Then Came You { a pedro pascal fanfiction }

Chapter Twenty-Six [Part One]

A.N. Sorry... (next chapter- a continuation of this one- will also be in Pedro's POV)

I watched her shove the last few items into her suitcase, an agonizing knot twisting itself tighter and tighter in the confines of my chest.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to the airport? I can still cancel the car." I said as she stood up, sweeping her fingers through the front of her hair.

"I don't want you to be late for filming." She exhaled, flashing me a weak smile that made the knot in my chest feel like it was about to fray and tear and snap, daring to send me into a crumbled mess in front of her.

She had been moments away from leaving me, leaving me... The thought alone was too much to harbor, but the fact that it had almost happened made it feel as though I'd been internally stripped. Like someone had used brute force to dig out all my internal organs with a shovel, the blunt edges ripping open holes inside my gut and my chest. Then filled my empty vessel with a thick, black, viscous liquid-- like lava or oil-- which sloshed away, ebbing, and flowing in waves of heavy dread.

I wasn't mad at her, how could I ever be mad at her, my precious girl. She'd only entertained the idea for my benefit, which was blasphemous, profane. As if I could ever live without her, as if I cared about anything-- my "image", my career, my fame-- more than I cared about her.

If I was mad at anyone it was the paparazzi, those vultures had nearly torn us apart. I was furious at Tommy, for everything he had done to her, for the turmoil she was still going through because of his lies. And whatever psychotic fans he had that continued to harp on the past, spread his deception like a plague. If I had the chance, I would take out my anger in a violent manner, without question. But I needed to be logical about this. I needed to actually remedy the problem. And I would. There wasn't a force on Earth that could stop me from fixing this, ensuring that it would never happen again. Lucy was mine; I wasn't going to let anyone drive her away from me.

"You promise me you're going to be alright." I whispered, gathering her perfect, little face in my hands after I'd walked her to the door.

She nodded, staring up at me with glossy gray eyes that, despite everything, made my stomach flutter madly. Would there ever be a moment where her eyes didn't make my chest feel light? I doubted it.

"I'm sorry... again... I--" She started, her hundredth apology since I'd found her little form curled over the toilet.

"Stop apologizing, sweet girl." I hummed, leaning forward, and placing a kiss on her forehead, holding my lips there for a moment to take in the scent of her skin, honey and citrus, a drug I never wanted to rehabilitate from. "I know... I'm not mad at you. And nothing-" I paused, locking my eyes on hers, "nothing is ever going to take you away from me, okay? I'm going to fix this; you just have to trust me."

She swallowed hard, nodding adamantly, her pretty eyes glistening with tears that made me fucking ache.

"I trust you." She mewled, her fingers digging into my arms, tight, the gesture displaying the uncertainty surrounding her departure. I didn't want her to leave, but it was for the best. The media wasn't letting up, and I needed her to be somewhere safe, somewhere she wasn't going to continue to get bombarded while I worked on fixing this. "It's going to be okay, mi amor." I assured her, taking her chin in between my first finger and my thumb, tugging her lips to mine in a heated embrace that I hoped she wouldn't forget the entire duration of her flight back to New York.

She whined, the noise vibrating against my lips as she hooked her arms around the back of my neck, getting on her toes and trying to get closer. My chest ached as I took her little waist in my hands, appeasing her request by lifting her up, then holding her tight against me while I rolled her soft, plump bottom lip between my teeth.