[Henry Cavill] One Shots

no turning back

The clouds hang low, gray cottons looming over your head, a distant reminder you're still in this shitty town taking care of other's people shit.

It has been a long day. A long, tiring, eventful day. You wipe the blood from your hands onto your ruined clothes and you feel the heaviness around you. You walk to the bathroom and see your face smeared with dried blood. Wiping most of it, you walked out the bathroom and perused your cupboards for a drink. The Macallan 18 sits there, all alone and half empty, just waiting for you to guzzle on it. You didn't even bother to pour it in a glass, you just stood there, in the middle of your unkempt kitchen, drinking your tiredness away, nursing half bottle of a $250 drink.

You're about to walk into your bedroom and sink comfortably in your bed when you hear something. It stopped then it came back again. Sounds like things being knocked over. You go on defense mode, reaching for your glock, just to be safe. It might be a raccoon for Christ sake.

You reach for the garage door handle, hoping it's some animal just rummaging your food. The door flies open and you point your gun at the animal.

Wait, no.

This is no animal. This is the beast. Your stance changed, ready to fire at will when you hear August whimper, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Your house is invaded by none other than your arch nemesis, August Walker. Out of all the houses in this suburb, he chose yours. Coincidence? I think the fuck not. He deals with no coincidence.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Walker?" You point the gun at his head, ready to blow it off with just one wrong move.

"Love, help me first?" He looks at you, huffing, his hands smeared with his own blood. The irony isn't lost on you when your hands were covered in his men's blood just minutes ago.

"I'm not fucking playing this game!" Your gun is still pointed at him. August is good at manipulation and no way you're getting manipulated again.

"Sweetheart, put down the gun. If I'm here to kill you, I would've done it by now. I'm unarmed. Please. I have nowhere else to go." His eyes pleaded and August never pleaded. His heart is made of stone and his soul is already sold to the Devil. His eyes spoke of so much pain, so much anguish that you couldn't look away.

And of course, a sudden lapse of sanity, you fell for it. You pin your gun between your jeans and knelt down in front of him. You inspect his wound and thankfully the bullet did go through or you'll have to take it out yourself. Not that seeing August suffering feeds your joy but definitely seeing him this vulnerable, tugs at your heart.

You ask him if he can stand up but you assisted him either way, walking him to the living room, so you can get the first aid kit. It's a constant struggle of your brain and heart on what you're actually doing. Helping the enemy. But this same enemy is who you lost your virginity to. You shake your head from the memories. You were so naive back then. It won't happen again.

August lied down against your couch, looking so innocent, his eyes are closed and the pain is evident on his face.

You prepped some towels underneath his shoulder, you don't want any blood on your couch, how much more August's blood. The blood oozes from his wound and you started dabbing gauze to clean the area. Picking up the antiseptic, you look at him, your eyes talking but your lips aren't moving.

He nods and you pour the antiseptic, causing him to wince and groan. You can't deny his voice affected your body. It's always been like this with him.

You're already putting a bandage over his wound when he said something.

"I'm sorry. I have nowhere else to go."

His hard eyes before are now soft when they looked at you. You can't help but wonder if this is all a charade. A trap he set out for you, so he can devour you whole and feast on your soul. Just like what he did years ago, yet, here you are again, a hint of vulnerability spreading across your chest because of August fucking Walker.