Hozier Imagines - V

I love you

The liquor burned down your throat. The tour bus was crammed with equipment and clothes, humming with the bass of the concert outside. You toured with Andrew between filming, the benefits of your industry had you working from home half the year, but on sets the other half. Another benefit was your superstar fiance could schedule his tours around those dates. The set was almost over, the music slowing with the final two songs. You felt bad for missing the show but had a script to finish. Looking over your shoulder you saw the brand new bottle almost half gone. You cringed as the door slammed open.

"I don't want to do another interview," Andrew shouted at the person a few steps down. You sat up, eyeing the tired figure. His breath was fast, and he was covered in sweat. He sat on the couch and placed his hands over his face. Like a timid animal, you crept behind him and sat with your chest against his back. Carefully, you swept his sweat-matted hair from his temples, grabbed the rest of the fluffy mass, and did a quick bun to help him feel comfortable. He nodded slowly and you showed him your hand, he nodded yes, and you began to remove his jacket and rub his back.

"Tell me a tale," you said slowly

"I only have one of misery," he replied softly.

"I listen," you spoke.

A year ago after a huge fight, you both promised to try and speak poetically to diffuse further tension. It worked most of the time, but you both were very passionate people so sometimes screaming was the only choice, but it often led to a better "apology."

WINK

"The masses claim my words are their only chance of salvation at a time where I must rest my weary bones," he started to chuckle.

"Your words could be scripture for the broken."

"They only comfort the delusional," he gave you a side-eye.

You laughed, "Take me in chains, for I must be insane."

He turned and smiled, kissing your forehead, and replied, "criminally, but I would find you again woman, in every life, and straight jacket."

You smiled and he relaxed against you now, his head finding comfort on your shoulder. You played with his hair.

"Tell me something plain," he said, his frustration cooling.

"Well, I've been editing a script, adding my vision," you stuck out your tongue, "but I also have to replay to several emails, and watch a few hours of production meetings for this week."

"Sounds tedious," he replied his hand now interlaced with yours, the one unoccupied with his hair.

"It feels like it," you sighed, "but everyone works, and especially you, it's no different. I deserve no pity."

He sat up and turned to you, "I pity every human, that's forced to work to survive, a lucky few enjoy their work, and a greedy few don't know the meaning of the word. I fight myself daily because I can do something I love with someone I love, and throw a tantrum at the few outlying chores that come with the job." He turned away and took a deep breath.

"It hurts me to know you are so brilliant and passionate, but still feel burdened by the work. I want to see you excited again baby, like the woman I met, who had written a poetry novel out of boredom, and started a podcast for when she couldn't write fast enough-"

"Andrew," you started.

"When I met you, you still worked the odds and ends of other's projects, but you had time for your own and loved them so much."

"And they didn't pay the bills," you stated and rose from the couch.

"Baby," he started.

You opened the bottle and refreshed your class, taking the liquid in, fast, then slamming it down on the counter.

"I'm sorry," Andrew said from the couch, eyes fixed wholly on your figure.

"I know, I just feel the same, but I have it better than most just like you."

You crossed over to him and got on your knees.

"I have a home," you placed your hand on his chest, "I have more money than I grew up with, I have stable friendships, I know I can eat, sleep, and drink when I need, and I have you. That is what gives me passion, that is what keeps me going." He looked down at you with tears in his eyes.

"You have done great things in this life, who knows maybe I will too. Or maybe I will live, and write when I have time, clean after you cook, tend to my garden, and travel, unknown to 90% of the world. And still, I will be loved and feel it," you said.

Andrew began to sob. You took his face in your hands.

"It took me four years to graduate, start my career, and find you. I would do it again Andrew, all the pain and confusion, all the weary bones and migraines, all the debt. Just to find you and see that look in your eye when you first saw me. You are my passion."

He sighed and blinked back tears, "Everyone has said I invented longing, but I don't think I had ever longed for something so great then when I first saw you."

"Come here," you wrapped your arms around his head and held him, on your knees, while he remained on the couch.

"I love you."