Ewan McGregor imagines and one-shots

Imagine #57 (Ewan McGregor)

I stomped into the living room and sat down harshly in the gray sofa nearby, holding my face in my hands. It had been an extremely rough day at work, and I was fed up with how my fellow seamstresses were treating me. They acted like I was not one of them, even though I had been working longer than they had. 

I guess it was an age-related thing. They thought that because I was older, I was less talented than them, so they had incredible amounts of arrogance. Lately, they had been verbally abusing me, trying to break me so that I wouldn't work with them anymore. But I wasn't going to let them win, no matter how hard it got.

Suddenly, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and I glanced over to find Ewan staring at me, a worried expression on his face. "My God," he muttered. "What have they done to you now?"

I tried to speak up and say something, but words failed me altogether, and I only let out a sob instead. He rushed over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest. His lips pressed soft kisses on the top of my head, and I buried my face in the crook of his warm neck.

"Shh," Ewan whispered in my hair. "It's okay. I've got you."

I let all of my tears fall until my eyes were completely dry, but my body was still shaking against his, so he held me tighter and didn't let go. Eventually, I looked up at him and croaked out, "Thank you, Ewan."

"Of course, my love," he replied, kissing my brow. "Tomorrow, I'll go with you and give those girls a serious talking-to."

"No," I waved him off. "I can handle this."

He sighed and said, "I'm not going to let them hurt you again. Let me help you."

I wanted to protest, but he leaned forward and captured my lips with his, kissing me softly. I melted in his touch and rested my forehead on his. "Fine, you win."

Ewan smiled slightly and rested his chin on my head, making me feel safe in his arms. He was the best husband ever.