One drink (YelenaxFemReader)

Chapter nine.

We never were.

I sip the alcoholic beverage and sigh, I'm sitting in the middle of the night on the step that leads to the backyard, the wind is hitting my face slightly, but it helps me calm down my anxiety.

Maybe I do have a drinking problem.

The door behind me opens, and Yelena sits next to me, offering me a cigarrete from her pack.

- I woke up and you weren't there. Are you okay? - She asks, lighting hers and passing the lighter to me.

- I'm sorry if I scared you. I'm just stressed. - I take a big puff of smoke, resting the heavy glass by my side.

- I don't blame you. You were there a whole week, I... I'm sorry. - I frown at her. - If I hadn't approached you that night you wouldn't be going through this. - She runs her hand through her now messy hair, she has deep dark eyebags. I wonder if she has been blaming herself through the whole time I was gone.

- I'm fine. I don't regret anything. - I lie.

- Y/N, who was that man? - She stares at me with a concerned expression. - He's the one on the photos but why did it look like you knew him?

- Yelena, - It's time, the more I try to hide this the worse it'll be. - that was my father. - Her eyes widen, and she starts making sense of everything.

- Was he there by coincidence?

- I don't know, he didn't seem susprised of seeing me but... He looked different somehow.

- Pieck talked to me about your situation when we were together. - She says, cautiously. - I know pretty much everything he did to you.

- Well, at least she spares me the agony of having to relive it all again, then. - I smile, trying to lighten up the mood.

- Still, when she started talking about it so carefree, I felt as if I was hearing something that I was not supposed to hear.

- Pretty much it's like that. - I chuckle. - Pieck is the only one that knows everything that went down with him, she and her father helped me pay a lawyer to sue him after I run away, I thought he was in jail, turns out he got clean and probably got released beforehand for being unproblematic.

- I'm sorry you had to go through that. - She makes a pause. - Can I hug you?

I smile and nod, throwing the butt of the cig on the grass.

I'm grateful that she asked, probably being considerated of how my PTSD might make me feel after encountering face to face with the one that caused me such trauma.

I lean in to her and one of her arms circles on my shoulders, her other hand coming to cup my face as my head rests on her shoulder. Her fingers brush over the bandages on my neck and arms, and as her calm breathing pulls me into a trance, I finally feel calm and safe.

I feel her pick me up into her arms and carry me inside, she lays me on the bed and cuddles me, and even though when we were on the steps I was dozing off, as soon as I touch the bed I'm wide awake again.

I don't know how much time passes, but I'm just staring at the wall in front of me, with her arms hugging my torso from behind. Suddenly she jerks her body and sits straight on the bed, panting.

I turn around to her, she looks horrified until she notices my presence.

- You're here. - She mutters. I open my arms to her with a comforting smile and she buries her face in the crook of my neck as she lies back down. - You're here.