Hold On To Love || Kirk Hammett

Part 23- Baby's Leaving

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Please tell me this is not photoshopped coz this is so funny.

I COULDN'T BREATHE. The hand tightened around my neck, and I thrashed my arms and legs, desperate to throw it off. "Stop," I tried to say. "Please stop." But I couldn't. The hand was too tight. Tears blurred my vision. My chest tightened as I thrashed around the bed. Deeper...deeper...deeper. 

"Shh. It's Ok, It's Ok." Kirk whispered, his arms clutching me tight, rocking me back and forth. 

Once I could breathe steadily, he grasped my chin and angled my face toward his.

 "Tell me who or what I need to kill." He growled.  

"I had a bad dream. It was just the lake." I eked out a wobbly smile. "You can't kill a lake." 

"I'll drain every fucking lake and ocean in the world if I have to." A tiny crystal tear slipped from my eye. 

"Kirk..."

 "I mean it. I'd do it for you." he kissed the spot where her tear had been. "I'd do anything for you. No matter how twisted or impossible." 

A shudder rolled through my body. "I know. I trust you. More than anyone else in this world. I would burn down the world with you."

"No, princess. I would hand you the match and stand right by you as you turn the world to ashes." He knew his way with words. His sweet voice made me forget about everything. It was just him and I, against everything.

"And I love you, more than anyone else in this world." His lips united with mine, as he pulled me down onto the bed, "We have a big day today. Get some rest."

Rest? Unlikely. Between the horrid dreams and the nightmare of telling his mom I was pregnant, sleep would be the last thing I would be getting.

~~~~~

I couldn't stop throwing up. I heaved into the toilet, my stomach roiling, my skin drenched with sweat as Kirk held my hair back and rubbed circles on my back. He was livid. Not at me, but at my father, my past, and the entire situation. I could feel it in the tenseness of his hands and the aura of barely leashed violence that'd swirled around him since I confessed my memories

I retched again, and again, and again.

Every single morning, this was my start to the day kicked off, and 8 months looked like decades away.

After I'd thrown up what must've been all the contents in my stomach, I sank onto the floor. Kirk handed me a glass of water, and I downed it with long, grateful gulps.

 "I'm sorry," I rasped. "This is so embarrassing. I'll clean up—" 

"Don't worry about it." He ran a gentle hand over my hair, but an inferno raged in his eyes. "We'll figure everything out. Leave it to me."

I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't focus. All I could do was count the dreadful minutes until we'd meet with his mother. I loved her, she was kind, soft-spoken- or to me anyways, and the mother I always envisioned in my dreams. But I doubt telling her that I married her sweet son after knowing him for 6 months and 1 and a half years later, I was pregnant would be a dream come true. 

"Right. Time to get off the couch." Kirk said, taking a sip of beer. 

Oh, the joys of alcohol. On the contrary to ex-drug addicts and suburban-Jesus-loving moms: Sobriety sucks. I missed the sweet taste of wine, or the confidence boosts of cocaine. Maybe I was just having withdrawal issues, but my cravings for marijuana were growing each day.

"To do what?" I asked, my gaze not leaving his beer. He licked his lips, his eyes darting around the room looking for an idea.

"Buy comics with me." he smiled. He better be joking, the past week I've been tagging along with him desperate to do something, but I was officially sick of it all.

 I huffed in annoyance, my head hitting the pillow, "Kirk if we had a dollar for each of your comics, toys, and movie collection; we'd be millionaires."

"Princess we are millionaires." he chuckled.

"Hmm. We'd be billionaires." 

"We will be, one day, but for now we got a dinner date to get to." 

My eyes darted to the clock, 6 pm sharp. I ran to the bedroom and opened my cupboard. It looked like a hurricane, tornado, and earthquake had waged in there all at once. If I had to choose one thing I hated the most, it would be folding clothes; Kirk's on the contrary looked neat tidy, and organized- something mine would never be. 

I couldn't wear any of my tight-fitting dresses because what was once my feint abs have been turned into a bump, not big but noticeable enough to see that I was pregnant. I rummaged through and out fell a red dress- my mother's. Still stained with alcohol that never got washed off, no matter what we tried. I couldn't bring myself to throw it out, I still remember sneaking out on dates wearing it. I stuffed it at the back of a shelf and brought out a floral dress that was loose enough so I looked decent.

"Aah." He covered his eyes with his hand looking away.

"What?" I asked, looking in the mirror but my worries turned to a smile when he replied with,

"Too pretty." He opened his fingers, peeking through them to look at me.

"Shut up, idiot." I smiled walking over to him. I pulled his hands down, and he looked at me with a smile before he leaned down and kissed me, intimate and fiery.

People think intimacy is about sex.
But intimacy is about truth.

When you realize you can tell someone your truth when you can show yourself to them when you stand in front of them bare and their response is 'you're safe with me'- that's intimacy. That was Kirk and me.

"You ready?"

I linked my arms with him, "Yes."

With Kirk I was always ready because with him by my side, all my fears melted away.

{Sorry for the short and shitty chapter, I'll try to make it up to ya next round. Hope you enjoyed it. Love ya! XOXO}

HALLELUJA MY SWEET LORD JAMES.

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