(For Tay. because some dunderhead hit her truck this afternoon.)
This had to have been the worst turn the afternoon could possibly take.
You had already been stressed; work seemed to suck royally today, even more so than usual. By the time the end of the day rolled around, you were just ready to go home and recharge. Unfortunately, it didn't look like the world was going to allow that to happen.
As soon as you had gotten situated in the driver's seat, -- seatbelt fastened, radio on and adjusted to your liking, AC going, -- you were startled forward by a horrible 'thud.' You let out a yelp of surprise.
Only after the shock of the impact had worn off did it occur to you what had happened: some jackass had backed directly into your car.
Trembling, you undid the seatbelt and pushed the door to the vehicle open. You had all intentions of checking if the other driver was alright, -- that is, until you heard the actual giggle as the offending driver left their seat, joining you in the middle of the parking lot.
With that, you felt your face seem to burst into flames. Never in your life had you wanted to punch someone so badly.
It really seemed that the afternoon couldn't get any worse.
That was what you were thinking as you sat on the curb like some dejected school kid, waiting for your boyfriend to come pick you up. The car had to be towed, much to your chagrin; luckily, the other driver had admitted their fault when confronted. If they hadn't, it surely would have been bad news for them.
You just hated that you had to drag one of your coworkers into it. And that you were yelling loudly enough to alert the entire city.
With all the legal, 'who-did-what' formalities out of the way, all that you could do now was go back home.
At this point, you weren't even sure you wanted to do that.
It didn't look like you had much of an option, however, as you saw Brad's car turn into the lot. Sighing, you stood up on shaking legs, brushing yourself off haphazardly as you headed towards the passenger's side.
Of course, you couldn't even get the door open before you heard shouting again.
"Holy mother of God!" You rolled your eyes upon hearing those drawl-tinged words from Brad's lips. As if they would help anything.
The frustration didn't last, however, once you heard the question that followed.
"Are you alright?" he asked. Though his voice was still slightly raised, the inflection of the words was obviously tender. He was showing his concern the only way he knew how. Bless him. "I was worried sick," he continued, drumming his fingers nervously against the steering wheel. "I about killed myself trying to get over here. Just... Jesus Christ..."
"Brad," you interrupted him.
He turned to look at you, dark eyes full of concern, and your heart sank a bit.
You sighed, lifting a hand to your aching temples. "I don't know if I can talk about what happened, -- or what could have happened, -- a whole lot right now without crying. So please..." You dropped your hand from your head to reach across the console, finding yourself grasping his hand. "...just take me home."
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him close his mouth, jaw set. Before you could say anything, looking for affirmation that he wasn't upset with you, you felt his fingers intertwine with yours.
After that fleeting moment of tenderness, both of his hands returned to the steering wheel. With more care than he did most things, he managed to get the two of you back home safely.
Of course, by the time that you got there, all you wanted was to collapse onto something soft and stay there. For a moment, that was exactly what you did. Arm slung over your face, you threw yourself onto the sofa with a groan. It didn't take any time at all for Brad to come disrupt your peace. Nudging you to get your attention, he chose to ignore the death glare you gave him once your eyes met his.
"Think you might wanna take a warm bath?" he asks. "Might make you feel better."
"Fine." You rose to your feet with a huff, heading towards the bathroom with heavy footsteps. "Just let me sleep afterwards."
He didn't say anything else as he trailed after you like a lost puppy. Once you made a move to bend over the bathtub and turn on the water, however, he dove to so for you.
You watched with a combination of love and bitter amusement as he worked slavishly over setting the perfect temperature for the water. Finally, he seemed to find it, pulling away after sticking his hand under the faucet. He motioned for you to come over, beckoning you to test it. "That good?"
You mimicked his actions before nodding wordlessly.
Pleased, he turned the water off before standing up. "Good."
You expected him to leave immediately afterwards, only to find that he lingered, eyes still fixed on you. Somewhat frustrated, you turned back to him. "Brad?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you, um--" Your eyes darted towards the door. "Wait outside? I don't know if... the car... messed me up... or anything like that."
As much as you felt like a total, blundering idiot, he didn't give you a second to worry about it before he nodded. "Yeah. Definitely."
With that, he left you alone to appraise the damage.
And there was a bit of that, as you soon found out. Nothing more than bruises, scrapes, and aching limbs, but still.
As he had told you, the warm water did help a bit to help you relax. Just before the water began to cool, the door swung open again. "Swear I'm not looking!" Brad exclaimed upon walking into the room. You turned to find that he did, indeed, have his eyes closed as he tossed a towel and set of clothes in your vague direction. "Just giving you these... for later."
You couldn't help but crack a grin then. "What would I do without you?"
He chuckled before turning his back to you, heading for the door. "Get your own pajamas, I guess."
A while after the door had clicked shut, you pulled the plug on the drain and reached for the towel. Once dry, you reached for the clothes, only to find that the T-shirt and sweatpants weren't yours; they were Brad's. You sighed slightly, cracking a smile once again. Somehow, he knew all the little things that made you feel better without you ever having to tell him.
Enveloped in the warmth of the outfit, you cracked open the door and headed towards your bedroom. Once there, you crawled into the bed, lazily pulling the covers over you before closing your eyes.
It didn't take long for you to feel the bed settle beneath you. You cracked your eyes open, only to find that Brad had settled beside you, eyeing you with great concern.
He smiled gently at you, reaching to brush away the hair that had fallen over your face. "Hey, you," he murmured. "Feelin' better?"
"A little."
"Good." He tilted his head slightly, chewing on his lip for a moment before awkwardly motioning towards you. "Can I, um--"
You rolled your eyes before lifting the blanket thrown over you. "C'mere."
Relieved, he joined you beneath the covers. As you buried your face in his chest, he wrapped his arms around your waist tentatively. "Are you sore?" he asked quietly.
"Mmm... a little," you replied, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. "Nothing too bad."
"Good." He tightened his grip on you then, -- just slightly.
After a moment of silence, you felt his lips brush your forehead. "I ordered dinner," he said quietly. "Made some sweet tea, too."
You smiled. Sweet tea. How very like him. "Southern comfort," you mumbled playfully.
"The very best," he replied.
Another pause followed, only to be interrupted by a sigh from Brad. Beneath you, his chest rose and fell, shallow. "Oh, God," he muttered. "I'm so glad I have you. I don't know what I would have done if--"
You shifted restlessly against him. "Brad... don't..."
"I mean it," he continued. "I don't know what I would do without you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." He kissed you again, so tender. "You take care of me. Who else would do that? Mark? Jesse?"
"Come on, babe," you replied, lazily tracing patterns on his chest. "You know they would."
"But you mother me," he replied quickly.
You couldn't help it, -- you giggled at that.
"Not in a weird way," he clarified. "Just... you keep me out of trouble. And healthy. And sane. I just...need you, and you're there. I wanna do the same for you, but I don't..."
"You're doing an amazing job," you interrupted. With that, you curled closer to him with a slight whimper. "Brad..."
He shifted slightly. "What is it, sugar?"
"Don't leave me. Ever." You threw an arm over his shoulder, your clumsy attempt to keep him there. "You're so comfy... and warm..."
He grinned. "Alright, alright. I'm here." He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. Where he could keep you safe. "At least until the food comes."
(Here you go, my dear! Hope it doesn't suck. xx)