Doctor Strange: Hopeless Romantic

Doubt, Guilt, Love

"Christine? Christine?!" I heard.

I know this voice. That lovable yet strict voice. That melodic voice, that used to tease and flirt with me. 'Stephen?' I thought. 'No, that would be wrong, I never heard from him, since the day I left his house'

'Stephen?' I thought. 'No, that would be wrong, I never heard from him, since the day I left his house'

Yes. He sent thousands of emails. Saying I love you, I miss you, I am sorry, Are you reading this mail? But no. He wouldn't be here. He wouldn't come here, at least for his pride!

"Christine? Christine?" I heard again.

Nope. That's not a mistake. That is definitely real. But, why is he here? Did he come to apologize to me, in person? Did he come to tell me that he found a new girlfriend? Numerous thoughts filled my brain.

"Christine?" I heard the third time, yet louder.

Finally done with my thoughts, I followed the voice.

But the image I saw was totally different than what I expected.

He was bleeding, bruised, limping, his blood already soaked through his, oh god where did his fashion sense go? (clothes)

Honestly, I was surprised. It was strange seeing his face in such a long time. But his handsome face was bruised, already turning into various shades of color. And was bleeding, matching the color of his cape.

The first thing I said was, "Stephen!?"

He tried to explain, rambling and mumbling his excuse.

I stopped him. "First, let's go to my room."

I was frantic. My questions and thoughts started to come back. Why is he here? Why in all places, here? Why is he wearing that hideous clothes? Why? How? What?

Strange was already preparing for his shot. He tapped on the gigantic syringe.

He sat on the bed undoing his shirt, to put in the needle. I gasped. His body was bruised way more than his face. It was as if he was kicked and bullied somewhere.

"What happened to you?" I whispered.

I crouched down to help him. Pulling the belt and placing it beside me.

Tears started to fill up my eyes. "Why, why did you come here?" I asked, already emotional from seeing his unhealthy state.

"Chris, Chris, look at me," he said, trying to reassure me.

I shook my head and looked at the ground, holding his shirt, tightly.

He shook his head and touched my face, to make me face him.

I looked at him with my teary eyes.

"I came here because I trusted you. I knew that no matter what, you would help me," he said, smiling slightly.

My eyes widened. I wasn't actually expecting him to reply, so seriously. I thought he would make a excuse, like his old, usual self.

"Huh? Wait, what?" I replied, surprised.

"I said, I came here because of you. I knew I could trust you. I love you"

Now I was way more astonished. "You love me?" I whispered.

He nodded. "Yes, I do. I know you might hate me because of what I did in the past, I still love you."

I touched my lips with his. It was a sweet short kiss. Showing love and happiness.

"Now let's get finished with your wounds then, tell me what you did and explain that ugly clothes of yours"