"I don't see you like I should
You look so misunderstood
And I wish I could help
But it's hard when I hate myself
Pray to God with my arms open
If this is it, then I feel hopeless
And I wish I could help
But it's hard when I hate myself"
It's three days later when the doorbell rings. I get up from the couch to open the door.
"You look awful." James says after looking me up and down, deadly serious. Looking down at myself, I shrug, not caring about how unflattering my oversized sweater was.
"Thanks." I mutter, stepping aside to let him in.
"You haven't been answering your phone." He notes casually, walking over to sit down on the couch.
"I've been busy." I answer, moving to sit down next to him, keeping my distance for now.
"Busy doing what? Eating Ben&Jerry's and watching sappy romantic movies?" James answers, raising an eyebrow at me. Looking around the living room, I find lots of empty ice cream jars, along with a huge stack of romantic movies.
"In my defense, 'My Girl' is a wonderful movie. I cry every time I watch it." I answer, grabbing the jar of Ben&Jerry's I had currently been eating, sticking a spoonful in my mouth.
"Want some?" I add, offering the ice cream to him. After a moment of hesitation, he takes it from me.
"I have called you, you know. Mallory's asking for you." James says before shoving a spoon of ice cream in his mouth.
"To do what? Interrogate and distrust me even more? I'm not going anywhere near MI6 unless it's to start working again." I mutter, taking the ice cream from him for more comfort.
"Come here, you silly." James says after a moment, hands grabbing me, lifting me until I'm lying on my side, head resting on his chest as he's lying on his back, his arms wrapped around me comfortingly.I happily curl up against his side, burying my face against his neck, taking in his familiar, wonderful scent.
"I was worried, you know." He admits after he takes the ice cream from me, shoving a spoonful in his mouth.
"I'm sorry." I mutter, beaming up at him when he feeds me a spoon of it, making him chuckle.
"You can make it up, however." He muses, a mischievous look in his blue eyes when they meet mine.
"Oh, really? Enlighten me." I answer, smirking up at him.
"Let me stay here to watch 'My Girl' and eat ice cream?"
"Fine."
Slowly but surely, things begin to change for the better. There's less pity parties, less crying, less nights with me screaming my lungs out because of how hurt I am. M gives permission for me to begin training at MI6 again, although I'm not allowed to go on missions yet. I spend more time at work and less at home, which definitely helps. James has decided to go a bit more slowly with the missions, considering the whole ordeal had exhausted him as well, and I spent more time with him once more, both at and after work. I started thinking less of Raoul, although there still were nights where I'd wake up with tears streaming down my cheeks, and some things still were enough to send my mood spiraling down fast, because it reminded me of him so much it hurt. But I was doing better.
-three years later-
'BANG!'
'Click.'
'BANG!'
'Click.'
'BANG!'
Sighing, I put down the gun on the table besides me, rolling my shoulders in an attempt to get the tension out of them.
YOU ARE READING
Scars From The Past
Romance[Raoul Silva/OC] An MI6 trainee teams up with James Bond to chase an infamous hacker and former spy. But what will happen when she finds out they have much more in common than one would expect...? What happens when unexpectedly two paths cross?
