PEDRO PASCAL IMAGINES

Happy Anniversary (Javi x reader)

Warnings: angst, slight violence, mentions of domestic violence.

TRIGGER WARNING. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION.

You set the table with nervously shaking hands. Would you have the chance to watch yourself from above, you'd be sure to be observing a 16-year-old waiting for her crush to finally arrive for their first date.

But here you were, a grown woman living and working in the heart of Colombia, one oft he most dangerous Latin American countries at the time, organizing plates and cutlery for your one year anniversary with your boyfriend, partner, the love of your life.

Javier Peña.

He had been working a lot lately. A lot meaning from six to eight, every day, even weekends. Frankly, you weren't even sure when the last time was you two had been going to bed together, let alone sharing some intimacy. Tonight, however, would be different.

Just in case he would forget you had reminded Javier twice today, reminded him that this day was special for you and that he had to come home early by calling him at work. He had picked up the phone both times, reassuring you to oblige.

Now, at eight thirty, with your best dress on and the wine in the fridge, you waited. Waited excitedly for your man to come home. Waited to eventually share more than two words with him, to touch him, to smell him, taste him.

But your patience would be put to the test, along with something else you wouldn't have dreamt of.

Javier entered your shared apartment two hours late. Two hours of paperwork at the office for him. Two long, lonely, heart-breaking hours for you staring at the wall of the living room.

When you saw him, he looked horrible. Yet, it was the same condition he had been in for months now and you hated the fact that you had been getting used to it.

He spotted you sitting at the dining table with only two candles lighting up the space around you. In the gloomy light, he couldn't quite make sure your facial expression. Something inside him, crumbs of hope, pretended that you weren't mad, weren't hurt, but he prepared himself for the worst.

You rose from your chair with crossed arms and rose an eyebrow at him. Words were on your tongue, curses, allegations, aggressiveness, but you decided to hold your silence until he spoke.

He didn't. Instead, he hung up his leather jacket and grabbed a glass from the kitchen to pour himself some whiskey.

That man had nerves.

The emotions inside you were hard to define. Between anger and disappointment there was hurt. And, unfortunately, the feeling of doubt. Was this really the relationship you had been wanting, expecting?

Ultimately, you couldn't keep quiet anymore. With him standing there in silence, drinking his fucking whiskey, he had you more furious than ever.

"Well?" You snapped, examining his body language for any sign of reaction. His fingers seemed to grab the glass he was holding tighter, his knuckles turning white. He gingerly placed the glass back on the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath.

"What?" Javier returned, turning to face you. "I know I'm late. I know I fucked up. You don't have to tell me that. What do you want me to say?"

With these words, he mentally braced himself for what was about to come.

You bit your cheek so hard it hurt to not lose self control and throw your wine glass at him. You couldn't believe it, him, all of this.

"I want to know why it's so hard for you to come home in time ONE SINGLE NIGHT OF THE YEAR. To do the one thing I ask you for. To show this relationship, to show ME some respect and that it is important for you too. Is that too much to ask?"

At this point, things started to go wrong, really wrong. Javier decided to let his anger, his past, control his reaction. He decided not to pay any attention to you, the situation or anyone's feelings.

"Show you some respect?" He laughed. "Seriously? No, you can't be fucking serious, Y/N. This is ridiculous and I'm leaving."

You stood there with your mouth open and watched how he grabbed his jacket, ready to open the door. Rage took over and you stormed towards him, slamming the door shut before he cut escape.

"No!" You said firmly, "you're not leaving. That's what you always do. We will talk about this like adults now."

You looked him in the eye, trying to find something in them that you weren't certain still existed. Something to tell you that it wasn't all going down the drain.

"Move away from the door, Y/N," Javier said sternly, making it sound like a threat. He tried opening it again, but you wouldn't let him.

Then it all happened very fast. With more force, he pulled the door and simultaneously tried pushing you away from it, but it had the opposite effect. While you, on the contrary, still tried to keep him inside and close the door, his hand flew up in the air and hit you in the face. In shock, you let go of the door and Javier, still in the movement of opening it, slammed it open so you were pushed against the wall with your back and head.

Everything was a blur. Your vision was a blur from the tears dwelling up in your eyes. Sounds were muffled, you could only hear him say something that sounded like 'I'm sorry'.

When his hands touched your shoulders, you came back to the situation. You didn't want him touching you. So you pushed him away, tears now falling freely.

"Y/N, please, I didn't want that to happen. Please, I-" Javier's facial expression was now one full of softness and apology. But you were done for tonight. Done.

"Please leave," you sobbed, covering your bruised cheek with your cold hand.

Javier watched how you stepped away from him, looking so miserable and weak, scared even. This was bad, really really bad. His heart was breaking inside his chest seeing you like this. He wanted nothing more but hold you in his arms and whisper how much he loved you. But he had to accept your wishes now.

"I'm sorry, mi amor. I love you. I'm so sorry." His words only came out as a murmur as he turned away and opened the door. One last look at you before he left the apartment, left you behind.