the unforgiven | james hetfield [2]

seventeen

chapter seventeen: an invitation

Iris didn't even know when she fell asleep the night before. All she remembered was James rubbing her back and holding her while she cried in his arms.

James had remained by her side the whole night, providing a shoulder for her to cry on (literally). They didn't say a word to each other, and maybe it was better that they didn't.

He didn't think there was any right thing to say. Hell, the last person she probably wanted to get comfort from was the same person who put her in that position in the first place.

Iris had dealt with dark times before, but to break down that way in front of James was something else entirely. She didn't want him to see her so broken, she didn't need his pity.

When Iris woke up the next morning, her eyes felt a bit sore from all the crying she had done the night before. When she went to the bathroom and saw herself in the mirror, she groaned.

It was a new work week and she already knew it wouldn't be an easy day when everyone was going to see how red and puffy her eyes were. People didn't mind their business.

She didn't even want to look James in the eye. Now that he saw how weak and vulnerable she got, he knew it wouldn't take much to do it again and take advantage of it.

At least that's what her mind was trying to tell her, given all the trust issues she was dealing with when it came to him. She wanted all of this to be over already, it was stress she didn't need.

When she stepped out of her bedroom, she didn't look at James. She could spot him out of the corner of her eye, but was still too sensitive to talk or even look at him after what happened.

James was sitting on the couch, watching as she trudged through the room and went straight into the kitchen. Of course, he was going to be concerned about her almost immediately.

Iris didn't bother to say a word, but she could sense his gaze on her. She didn't want to deal with any of the pitying questions right now, especially when she had to get ready for work soon.

After some silence, James cleared his throat and decided to speak up anyway. "Morning," James mumbled. "Are you feeling alright?" He asked, his tone filled with concern. 

She poured herself a cup of coffee, her eyes glued to the cup in her hand. "Yeah, just feeling a bit tired." She mumbled before heading back into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

James felt horrible to see her that way. She clearly didn't want to talk about anything, so he didn't push her about it, as much as he wanted to help.

The coffee seemed to have done some justice in making her feel better. Just a few minutes after she had gone back to her bedroom, she was in her work clothes and running all over the house.

James watched her walk back and forth, whispering to herself as if she was trying to remind herself of the important things she had to take care of before she went to work at the art studio.

"Are you feeling alright, Iris?" James asked again in a moment of concern. He couldn't tell if she was busy trying to get her things together or having a moment of panic. 

"Yeah, I'm just trying to get all my things together for work," She explained as she packed a bag with her art materials. "I have a big show coming up."

Iris stopped when she realized what she had told him. She was planning to keep that to herself, not wanting to have him know about it in case he decided to come along and ruin that somehow too. 

But then she thought about James had been one of the first, if not, the only person who truly supported her art. She never forgot about the day she told him she wanted to be an artist.

In the years after their relationship, quiet nights were spent with him by her side while she had her focus in her sketchbook. The pages were filled with numerous doodles, some being of him.

In a moment of vulnerability, she hesitated for a moment, but managed to finally look at him for the first time this morning. "You know, it would be nice if you could come actually." 

James looked back at her, his eyes lighting up. "Really?"

"Yeah..." Iris cleared her throat. "It's going to be my first time showing my art during such a big event so...I would appreciate it if you were there. To keep me calm."

James smiled a bit, noticing that she was starting to put some sort of trust in him. "Sure, I'll come. When is it?" He asked her, already willing to start counting down the days.

"It's in two weeks, but I'm already feeling the pressure." She laughs nervously, looking back down at her bag to make sure she had everything. 

He laughs and shakes his head. "Don't worry about it, Iris." He reassures her. "You're going to get through this and you're going to do great. You always do."

Her smile widened at his words of praise. The sincerity in his voice was causing her to put her walls down again and have some faith in him. 

"Thanks, James," Iris muttered, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "I'll probably get home late today, so...Don't wait up for me."

James nodded and watched her walk towards the door, heading out to face the long two weeks she had ahead of her.

At least it was going to be worth it in the end.