Dedicated to Astrid4242. So this story has been on my mind for like a week and I thought about finally putting it on paper. Thanks for all the votes and I hope y'all enjoy this shot loves! :*
Tears cascaded down your blanched face like endless streams of running rivers, but it wasn't because of the insidious needles being pricked inside your wrists or the various drugs taking effect on your being; rather, it was because of a certain Frenchman you've caught getting all touchy with some woman throwing herself at him two days past.
"We're done ma'am," the nurse said softly through her mask, yet her tired, dark eyes remained indifferent to the wreck of a state you were in. After getting her equipment, she left briskly without another word and you realized that you were alone once more when the cold, plastic doors to your room clicked in place. The sound cut through the still air, and you sighed shakily, your hands fisting the blanket beside you.
I trusted him...
More tears sprung from your eyes and you closed your heavy lids, wanting to hide the pain through the wonderful mask of slumber. It seemed to work all the time, so it should work this time, right?
Shortly afterwards, you felt the warm, beckoning hands of drowsiness grabbing and dragging you into its amazing world, where everything was dark but anything was possible- healing was possible and it was finally within reach.
The door to your room burst open and the magic of sleepland shattered away; in its stead, the cruel head of reality reared itself out in the guise of the masked man whom you thought loved you faithfully.
It was the perfect wolf in sheep's clothing scenario and you knew you were stupid for ever believing he could change.
"(Y/N), I was so worried cherie," the Frenchman whispered quietly, his voice lined with a knowing tone.
"What are you doing here?" you spat lifelessly, staring at the valleys of creases that have littered your white blanket.
Spy could only tuck his thumbs under the neck of his faded crimson mask before he swiftly pulled it up and off his head, exposing the handsome face you've wished you've never fallen in love with. He then proceeded to part his lips, "I... I 'aven't 'eard from you for almost two days now," he whispered, "I was worried cherie."
"Wow, I'm glad you remembered me even if you've got that new chick," you sneered with a roll of the eyes, "tell me, what's her name this time?"
"(Y/N)," he croaked softly, "W-what are you talking about?" his voice was clearly laced with hurt and distress; two emotions people have suspected him of never having. His face was etched with confusion, but you knew better: It was just another one of his masks.
"Don't," you harshly clenched your teeth as beads of tears flung with a swift swipe of your head, "play dumb with me Spy; you may have fooled a lot of people but I know what I saw- I saw you with a woman and she was throwing herself at you, and you, being the womanizer you are, didn't even try to stop her!"
You hadn't realized that the tears had flown out or that you were being so loud until your vision blurred and the only sounds you heard were your strained vicious breathing.
"Did you really know what you saw, hm, (Y/N)?" Spy challenged with a lifted brow; his stance tall and straight, his jaw set tight. There was a fierce spark of emotion and confidence in his blue orbs that the Frenchman tried suppressing, almost as though he was holding himself back from firing at you.
His sudden burst of sureness somewhat fazed you and you swallowed the awful lump that had formed back down into your throat. Your tired eyes skated up and down his sophisticated form and your ears perked up once more the moment he freed his low, silky voice out in the cold atmosphere.
"You never believed I could change, did you now mon cher?" Spy pressed on, the heels of his dress shoes clacking on the cold tiled floor as he made his way towards you, "zhat is all you see me as: some skirt chaser- a womanizer."
"I have good reason to Spy," you cried fiercely, "look at your history and tell me you blame me."
"I don't blame you for doubting me," the Frenchman clarified firmly, "but zhe fact zhat I'm not capable of changing in your eyes 'urts me (Y/N)! You've never trusted me- not even once."
His control was slipping with each syllable that exploded from his lips, and he took deep breaths, hoping it'll help him regain his suave, calm composure again.
You, on the other hand, ripped your eyes off him and swiftly looked away, heartbroken and malcontented. In this time when you needed him the most, you felt as though your lover gave you an even greater burden to worry about other than your current condition. The dread settled in your gut and you cried silently, making sure not even a pathetic whimper came out of your quivering lips.
"I did Spy I did-" you sobbed, your walls crashing down as his sharp gaze seeped between your cracks, "but how would you explain what I saw?"
Straightening his tie, Spy cleared his throat and ignored the running tears. He must've seen plenty of those to have grown so apathetic to them.
"Zhat woman," he replied lowly, "was my ex- and I was trying to explain to 'er zhat she couldn't see me anymore- she didn't seem to take a 'int."
You bit your lip and rubbed up and down your chilly arms, still refusing eye contact. You were starting to feel sheepish, and the courage to even look at him dissipitated like thin air.
"H-how does that change anything?" you stammered, tongue tied, "you were laughing with her, and she hugged you, and she practically threw herself at you and you didn't even stop her!"
"I won't deny zhat cherie," he sighed patiently, "but it was upon our agreement: she never bothers me again if I let her flirt with me one last time. I 'ad to do it to have an honest relationship with you; I threw away my old loveless lifestyle because zhis is worth a million times more- and I come 'ere and learn my girlfriend never even gave 'erself a chance to trust me."
"How do I know you've really changed?" you said, not wanting to admit defeat, "how do I know you're not lying?"
"I can't make you believe in something if you really don't want to," Spy answered tersely and headed towards the exit as he kept his back painfully straight, "and if loving me supposedly brought you nothing but pain and misery, zhen you are zhe fool. I did everything to make you 'appy and yet it seems as zhough it was never enough. Now I know 'ow you really feel- I'm sorry you 'ad to be around me."
He ripped the silver handle open and briskly stormed off, not even sparing you a last glance to see the look of hurt and regret on your once proud face. You never meant for things to go that far, you never intended to hurt his feelings.
And for some reason, you had the awful impression that this time, your lover won't be coming back. There wasn't a more perfect time in your life when you hoped you were delusional and that your head was making up all of these horrid thoughts.
"S-Spy...?" you squeaked helplessly, intently staring at the door. It'll open any minute now, you told yourself. But it never did; minutes, hours, days passed and the Frenchman vanished from your world. Along with his disappearance, your health and vitality dwindled as moments passed slowly until such time that the repetitive ticking of the clock became maddening.
Is this payback? He knew how vulnerable you were to emotion, so did he leave on purpose? Making you suffer this long for being so wrong? You knew you deserved this, yet you just couldn't accept the pain this torment came along with.
You began to wonder if he knew just how much it hurt when he left.
You called for the nurse and pleaded that they make either a call or a message to your estranged lover. The tears, as well as the pale face and drooping eyes, managed to tug at their heartstrings that they've given in to your desires.
Fortunately, Spy picked up without hastle and there was an immediate connection between the two of you.
"Who is zhis?" he asked, pressing the telephone against his ear as he spoke with apathy.
Your lips trembled at the sound of his voice and the first thing the mercenary heard was the acute gasp of a lost, hopeless woman. Thankfully, there was no one present in the room to witness the wretched display of emotion.
"Spy, Spy I'm so sorry- I never meant to hurt your feelings," you sobbed hysterically, "please...I need you."
"Why would anybody need a womanizer, hm, (Y/N)?" he chided.
"Spy please," you hiccuped, "I know I was ignorant and presumptuous, and I know I deserve to be hated-"
You paused, feeling your hands shake. Nevertheless, you continued speaking to him.
"- but I was just afraid that you left me because you knew I had cancer... I was afraid you stopped loving me because I was sick and pale. I'm sorry, I really am- but I need you Spy. Please come back. I still love you."
You heard him inhaling amidst the static before a sharp click rang out.
"Spy...?"
But he only pressed the phone down and abruptly ended the call, as if a second thought wasn't needed at all.
"Spy!" you cried, "I'm sorry please- please don't go. I need you, I never wanted you to leave I'm so sorry...!"
All at once you broke down and you blindly groped for anything soft you could squeeze and hug, anything soft you could possibly replace him with. Rejection has never hurt so bad before, but you let him down and you knew you had no one else to blame.
"I was an idiot for letting you go..." you sobbed quietly, trying to calm yourself down.
"Well," a familiar voice came from the other side of the room, "I did tell you zhat you were a fool cherie."
"Spy?" you exclaimed hopefully, shifting your gaze from one corner of the room to another like a panicked, trapped animal. "Spy is that you?"
The familiar sound of a disguise uncloaking reached your ears and you watched as a cloud of thin smoke gave way and materialized into the tall lithesome build of the gorgeous Frenchman, sauntering his way towards you with a proud grin lighting his face.
"Zhe one and only cherie," he chuckled heartily before giving off a genuine smile of relief and joy at the sight of your aghast face.
"Oh Spy," you gasped, cupping your hands onto your gaping mouth, "I'm so sorry!"
He wrapped his long arms around your frail frame and soothingly rubbed at the expanse of your back.
"I'm sorry too cherie," he sighed, pressing his chin atop your soft head, "I also would've been angry if I saw you doing all zhat with another man- you were just confused, but remember zhat I'm not giving up on you even if you have all zhe cancers in zhe world."
"You make me happy," you admitted tearfully, "and I'm happy you came back."
"I never left cherie," he divulged with an amused glance, "I was just at zhe back of zhe room, watching you from zhat sofa bed."
He pointed at the orange couch adjacent to you with an amused gaze and your once ashen face warmed up into a beet red.
"So all this time- but, how did you get in, out- what!"
He laughed at your yapping and said, "Zhe nurse is in my service- I didn't trust zhe 'ospital enough to take care of you; and besides... 'ow could I afford being away when I know anything could happen to you at any moment?"
His voice turned sad as well as the way he bore his body. He looked away from the wires and tubes attached to your limbs and you nearly watered up again at the disheartened man whose blue eyes were vague and crestfallen.
"Spy?" you hoarsely whispered, "I need you. You're not leaving me right?"
The Frenchman brought a hand up and gingerly stroked your cheek, "I 'ave to mon amour," he sighed sadly. "Zhey need me for a very dangerous mission."
"But you'll come back right?" you said softly, feeling rather tired as you cherished the feel of his gloved hands on your skin. He laid you down gently and kissed the top of your brow and you felt the warmth of his breath there.
"After two days cherie," Spy sighed gladly, watching your eyelids droop, "I'll be back in two days."
***
You opened your eyes from a satisfying slumber and registered the repetitive, cordial caress that made your skin tingle: You knew exactly who the loving hand belonged to and to confirm it, you reached up with a smile and took it into your own.
"Hey there babe," you said raspily, your vision still in a haze from suddenly waking up.
"Mon amour," he answered lovingly, kissing your brow good morning, "I'm 'ere now, don't worry."
"I'm glad," you whispered, "you must be tired, sleep with me honey."
"I'll just watch over you cherie, and remember... Je t'aime."
"I love you too Spy," you looked up at him, though you found his sudden show of affection rather sudden and unexpected. "I love you very much."
"I'll always be with you (Y/N)..."
For a moment, the experienced seemed surreal and vague, as though it had all been a crazy dream, but you looked around anyway, hoping to find any trace or sign that your lover had been here. Alas, there was none.
The spot next to yours was cold and the cushion of the chair beside your bed looked untouched and made. You let off a sough of disappointment before hearing the door open and you perked up, hoping for nothing more than your Frenchman to walk in through those doors and hug you and kiss you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
But it was only the nurse; and her face was painted with some sharp, grave expression that sent your slow heart into a wild tremor. The black phone in her hand didn't go unnoticed by you.
"What's wrong nurse?" you asked the woman, sitting up from your lying position.
"Ma'am, it's," she stammered desperately, gazing to your face then back to the bed then to the lamp, "it's, uh-"
"Spit it out please!" you cried unexpectedly, shocking both you and her.
"Ma'am," she spoke quietly again, tucking the phone back into her pocket, "it's Mr. Laurent..."
"What happened to him?"
She took in a heavy breath, "Ma'am... he-he got into a shoot out and he- he didn't make it out alive."
"No..." you whispered helplessly, "NO! You take that BACK!"
"Ma'am please calm down-!"
"Spy!" you cried hysterically, "He was just here awhile ago- he was guarding me; you're lying, YOU'RE LYING!!"
"I'll need help sedating the patient in room 195!" the nurse yelled urgently out into the hallway.
Her words further agitated you; how dare she- making it seem as though you were a deranged rabid animal who needed to be tranquilized and put into quarantine. In retaliation, you haphazardly ripped the wires off your limbs and clambered to the back couch, where you knew he stayed to watch over you.
He's there- he's got to be there...!
He was always there!
"Spy!!" you wailed, despairingly clutching at the cushion of the seat, "This isn't funny show yourself! I know you're here-!"
You gasped at the little sharp pinch that twinged your shoulder and you fell limply into cold, unfamiliar arms. You managed to put up one last fight, weakly thrashing and resisting because everything hurt. You simply refused to accept reality even when blackness started consuming you.
"I'm the one with cancer..." you sobbed groggily, still jerking in the nurses' arms, "I should've been the one dead- not him."
In that moment of despair and despondency, you once more began to wonder if he knew just how much it hurt when he left.
Because it did a whole lot.
Hey guys! Thanks for reading and voting and commenting. Y'all keep me going and make me love this thing I do and next fic will be a little more light hearted: an Engie x reader lemon. Can I get a YEEEAAAH?!?!
Anyhow, thanks again for everything and don't forget to vote loves! :*
~