Metallica one shots and headcannons

Where did you sleep last night, pt2 (James Hetfield one shot)

This is a bit sad/angst, mention of cheating.

________

The hours pass in a blur after I leave, but I find myself standing outside the apartment again, staring at the door as if I could get the answers I need into existence. The cold night air wraps around me like a shroud, but it feels empty, like everything else around me. The silence between us has become unbearable, and now it feels like a weight I can't shake off, pressing down on my chest with each breath I take.

Maybe I should leave.But something keeps me rooted to this spot. The questions I've been asking, the ones that have gnawed at me for weeks, refuse to let go. Where did you sleep last night, James?

And then, as though the world itself is pushing me toward the final confrontation, I hear footsteps. I turn, and there he is—James, looking lost, his face pale under the streetlights. He's come for me, and I don't know if I'm relieved or terrified.

"Y/n..." His voice cracks like ice, fragile and uncertain. "Please. We need to talk."

I can feel the ache in his words, but it doesn't warm me. It only reminds me of the coldness that has taken root in my heart. I've been here before, standing in this silence, waiting for him to come back to me. But now, maybe I could know the truth.

"Do you want to talk, James? " I reply, my voice quiet but firm. "Now, you're going to tell me everything."

He hesitates, his eyes flickering like he's not sure where to begin. He opens his mouth, but it's the silence between us that speaks louder than any of his words. Finally, he takes a shaky breath and blurts it out, "I've been seeing someone else. For months."

The air around us grows colder, as if the very world is drawing away from us. I can almost feel the chill deep in my bones, a numbness settling over me that isn't just from the cold night. I feel like I'm standing in a place where the sun will never shine, where warmth and comfort are nothing but distant memories.

"You've been seeing someone else," I repeat, the words tasting foreign in my mouth. I've been asking myself this question for so long, and now that I have the answer, it doesn't feel like relief. It feels like a weight too heavy to carry.

"I never meant for it to happen like this," he says, his voice hoarse. "I didn't want to hurt you. But I couldn't stop it. It wasn't just one night. It's been months, and I've been hiding it from you."

I can hear the apology in his voice, but it doesn't matter. The damage is already done. "You didn't think that you could hurt me? You thought you could keep lying to me, keep telling me you were out of town while you were with her?" "I was stupid to wait hours, alone, staying awake waiting for you to arrive!" I yelled, my throat was burning now, that knot of pain inside me was already burning with hurt, but by now, I didn't care anymore.

He flinches, guilt flooding his eyes, but he doesn't answer. He can't. There's nothing left to say.The coldness of the night presses in around us, sharp and biting. And somewhere, deep inside, the words I've been avoiding spill out before I can stop them. "Where did you sleep last night, James?" The question feels like an echo of something deeper, something that's been with me this whole time.

He looks at me, his face pale, a look of regret clouding his features. "I...wasn't out of town, I slept....I slept with her" His words fall away, the air thickening between us. I've been asking the same question over and over in my head—where did he sleep last night?—but now the answer doesn't bring peace. It only makes the emptiness inside me feel deeper. Like I've been walking in the dark, searching for warmth, but all I've found is the cold, a cold that chills me to the bone.

I blink, trying to force my mind to catch up with the reality that's settling into my bones. But my chest feels heavy, like a knot tightening in the pit of my stomach.I swallow hard, the burn in my throat spreading like fire. How could you? The thought rings in my head, louder than anything he's said. But I can't speak it. I can't bring myself to say anything. Not yet.

I stagger back, my legs unsteady, my hands shaking. The taste of betrayal lingers on my tongue, sour and bitter, but it's nothing compared to the physical ache in my chest. "Y/n?" His voice is full of uncertainty, like he's not even sure if I'm still there. But I don't answer him. I can't. The words get stuck in my throat, trapped by that knot that feels like it's going to choke me.

I try to focus on the cold air outside, on the way the wind cuts through me, but even that can't numb the pain inside. I look at him, his face twisted with regret, and something inside me cracks wide open. "How could you do this to me, James," I whisper, my voice trembling, "All this time, I've been waiting for you to come home. But now... now I know. "And you were in her arms, while I, like a fool, waited for you to come home

His eyes widen at my words, but I don't care anymore. The heat in my chest spreads, and the sting of it mixes with the numbness in my limbs. It's as though my body is betraying me, not knowing whether to burn with anger or freeze in shock.

The tears are coming now, but they don't feel like they belong to me. They belong to the girl I once was—before all of this. Before I ever thought I could trust him."I never thought... I never thought this would happen. Not with you, James," I whisper, as if the confession is a quiet exhale, escaping despite myself. "Not with you."

He takes a step forward, but I back away, shaking my head. "Don't come any closer. I can't—I can't—look at you anymore." I step back, the distance between us widening. The world outside feels like a frozen wasteland now, a place where the sun never shines, where I'm left to shiver through the cold night. I don't know where we go from here, or if there's even a way back from this. But the warmth I once felt for him has vanished, replaced by something much colder.

"Y/n...pleas-"

"You don't fool me anymore. Don't say you're sorry or something else because it's not true,you're only a good liar." I say, the words heavy on my tongue.

James stands there,his face a mix of regret and guilt, but the ache in my chest won't let me soften. I know I'll never be able to look at him the same way again. His words falter, but he doesn't reach out to me. The space between us feels like an ocean, vast and impassable. And as I turn away, I can almost hear the echo of those words—Where did he sleep last night?—the ones that have haunted me, the ones I should have asked sooner.

But it's too late now.

The cold wind blew, I turned around and I started walking, knowing that I'm walking away into a place where the sun doesn't shine. The warmth is gone. And I don't know if I'll ever find it again.