Then Came You { a pedro pascal fanfiction }

Chapter Twenty-Five

I woke up before the sun did, a tight knot in my gut that I knew had no real expiration.

I had to leave him. The thought alone, even the smallest inkling of it, made me sick, so ill that I was sure I was going to spend the majority of my morning bent over the toilet. But... I had to. Everything had gotten far too out of control, too close to him for comfort. They had showed up at his house, defaced his property because of something I'd said almost half a decade ago. I would not let him jeopardize his safety or his career-- the one he'd worked so hard for, dreamed of since he was a boy-- for me. That wasn't fair, it was preposterous and selfish and disgusting.

So... I was leaving. I'd bought a plane ticket back to New York while he'd been outside painting the garage the night prior. It departed at noon. I would go back and pack my things and begin to try to figure everything else out, but more than likely I would need to move back to San Francisco, deal with the vultures on my own.

I turned my head slightly so I could peer up at Pedro from my placement on his chest. Oh, I was going to miss him. That word wasn't enough, didn't carry the weight needed to properly describe what it was going to be like without him... like forcing myself to cut off an arm or a leg, or rip out a vital organ. I wasn't even sure I could do it, but I had to at least try, for him.

I committed his features to memory, gently tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his prominent nose, brushing my thumb across the soft, plush skin of his bottom lip. I'd never loved someone so much, so intensely, naturally, like we'd been made to find each other.

"Maybe in the next life, Pedge." I whispered to his sleeping form, a hot tear tracking down my cheek as I placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

I choked down the remainder of my tears, I didn't want to wake him up, and the knot in my gut was turning thick and wicked and I knew I was going to need to vomit before I started packing my things.

I held my breath as I gently, carefully, lifted the heavy weight of his arm from around my waist, placing it down on the mattress as I began slowly scooting toward the end of the bed.

I didn't even get halfway down when I heard him groan, my heart falling into my stomach as he reached down and dragged me back up the length of his body, burying his face in my hair and humming contently.

How, how, how could I fucking leave?

"Pedge," I whispered, trying to get out of the vise grip of his arms. Oh, fucking hell I was going to miss those arms. "I have to use the bathroom."

He groaned, his voice still low and heavy with sleep when he spoke, "No, stay here."

The knot twisted itself tighter, my throat thick and burning. If only he knew the double meaning behind his plea.

"I really have to go to the bathroom." I spat out, my voice high and tight and thick with tears that I was trying to avoid letting him see.

He groaned again, a bit louder this time as he loosened his grip enough for me to scramble off the bed.

"Hurry back." He called after me, his voice still groggy, his words pushing me over the edge as I stumbled into the bathroom, barely getting the door closed and the toilet lid open as I sobbed over the bowl, choking and coughing out the contents of my stomach.

I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this.

I loved him too much to leave, but I had to, I couldn't selfishly stay and risk something worse happening next time. What if they broke in next time, threatened him for standing up for me, for dating a lying bitch? If those assholes only knew who the real liar was. Fuck Tommy, goddammit fuck Tommy. I hated him, hated the past version of myself who pursued him so vehemently. If only she'd known, if only she could see me now... forced to leave the real love of my life because Tommy's psychotic fans just couldn't let it go.