LOVER || conrad fisher x reader

conrad.

Sitting with Susannah calms you, even though it's only for a little while. You still have lots to do back at the house, organising wedding things with Belly and the girls, and making sure Jere doesn't get cold feet before tomorrow.

As if that would happen.

You get yourself off the floor, sending Susannah one last kiss, before heading back towards the main road. The walk back is short lived; in fact, you don't even leave the graveyard, before you see the unmistakable red of Conrad's Jeep parked on the road.

He jumps out the car before you know what to do, so you just stand there, a few meters away from Susannah's grave and where you were sat just moments before. Conrad enters the compound, catching your eye as soon as his feet hit the gravel.

He stops abruptly, staring at you from down the road. You do the same, bowing your head sadly at him. He'd found you immediately, without knowing your location. You couldn't imagine Conrad driving around Cousins, head out the window, looking into store fronts and cafes and wondering the streets for you—yet here he was.

He'd found you.

You send a silent prayer to Susannah, before you start down the road to him.

"Are you okay?" he says first, when you approach him slowly.

"You didn't need to come find me," you let out, scuffing your shoes on the floor. "I wasn't lost,"

"I know," he says. "I knew you'd be here, though,"

You sigh gently. "How?"

"I come here to think, too," he says softly. You can't help but smile, even though his words still cut to your core from last night. But he's here, standing before you, worried expression on his face despite trying to cover it up, and you find yourself... okay with it.

Maybe even glad.

"She's a great listener," you say, and Conrad's the first to chuckle. He ducks his head to the ground, hands in pockets, hair covering his forehead and falling into his eyes. He flicks it out of the way, meeting your eye strongly.

"She sure is," his smile is golden. You wish it wasn't.

You want so desperately to stay mad at Conrad Fisher, but there's something about his face and eyes and jaw and neck—maybe just him—that makes it impossible. He was so vile to you, said horrible things and damaged your heart, just so he could protect his in return. He's kept you by his side for years, comforted you, listened to you, lead you on maybe, but you know deep down that you'll never fully hate him.

You can't find the strength within you to.

"Let's go home," he adds, softer this time. It's because of times like these, when he's only got eyes for you and his voice is so gentle that it's a whisper, but it still has a rasp that makes you shiver, that make you want to forgive him so easily.

You indulge him just this once, just because you're tired and you need to get back, for Belly.

"Okay," you whisper, before the two of you walk side by side, back to the car.

The ride is silent for the most part, apart from Conrad's erratic breathing. It's not often that he loses his cool, rare that his composure is so shot that his heart is about to beat out of his chest, but right now you can tell he's losing a handle on himself.

You turn to him secretively, not wanting a conversation out of this, but just wanting to know if he's alright. The same way he'd cared about you.

When you see how bad it is, you stir. "Conrad," you say gently.