Floral And Fading || Jonnor AU || EDITING

Part Fifteen - Secrets

I want you to be more honest and open with me, about everything, and I know that's hypocritical but I can feel you pushing me away, just to see how far you can get me before I reach the point where I don't spring right back to your side again, and it's scaring me half to death.

Like today, you came home after work and didn't even say hello to me before rushing upstairs, it was only because I knew you too well that I knew you were hurt in one way or another, but I would have never have guessed that you'd be coming home with a black eye, broken nose and bruised ribs. Never in a million years.

After about fifteen minutes of waiting for you to come downstairs I decided it'd be best to go and talk to you, try and talk you out of the pessimism that always follows a bad day at work.

Slowly, I made my way up the stairs, knocking gently at our bedroom door before opening it, seeing you laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling , tears rolling down your eyes, dried blood on your face, and a bruised eye.

You didn't say anything to me, so I just silently took you into my arms and let you cry it out on my shoulder, I gently held the back of your head, playing with your hair as you sobbed into me. It wasn't the kind of crying that happened on Christmas Day, it was so much more painful than that, your pain radiating into my soul and body and mind. And all I could do was hold you.

Eventually you had cried it all out, and sat up, apologising to me as you wiped your eyes.

"I'm sorry about crying on you." You sniffed "But thanks for letting me."

I shook my head and told you that you shouldn't have to apologise to me, before asking you what happened.

You told me everything, everything.

Even things that weren't related to te attack, things I needed to know. Things that have resulted in me being on the phone to the doctors surgery for an emergency appointment tomorrow morning.

You told me the attack had begun early this morning, you woke up to a text telling you to be careful at work today from your closest work friend, you ignored it, and went in as normal, the guy who you had been having problems with was more aggressive than normal to you as you sat at your desk after your meeting, you thought nothing of it and continued to work as normal. Around 5:30pm you left work, only to be ambushed on the alleyway you used as a shortcut to get home. You were attacked by five guys, four of them holding you down as your colleague kicked you until you were crying in agony, telling you that that's what you get for being a faggot, teasing you about the way you're going to run home to me and cry about this all.

Your story not only hurt me but it's put me on edge, I don't want you getting hurt again, so I made you agree to let me walk to work with you for a couple weeks.

I held you tight as we cuddled on the bed as you told me the story, I never wanted to let you go.

"I'm always gonna be here for you." I whispered.

I lied. I'm dying.

"You can tell me anything, is there anything you need to tell me baby?" I whispered.

This wasn't a lie. You can tell me anything.

You nodded, resting your head on my chest and not looking up at me.

"When we were trying on suits for the wedding. It really upset me that I didn't fit into the smaller sizes, it upset me so much, I don't know why, but it really got to me, and now every time I look in the mirror I just see fat I could lose and I hate myself so much, and I know it's stupid and I should've grown out of all this by now, but I can't shake it? And I'm scaring myself, I know I'm not eating enough, yet I'm making a conscious effort not to, I'm scared, and I'm so sorry Jamesy, I just want to look perfect for you on our wedding day." You explained, staring at the creamy white wall of our bedroom.

"...baby boy." I sighed quietly, kissing your forehead "You're going to look perfect, no matter what, I'm not just in love with your body, I'm in love with you, the way your hair looks in the morning when you haven't brushed it, the way your stubble tickles my face when you haven't shaved in a couple of days, the way your eyes crinkle up when you laugh, I'm in love with you, not the way you look, it's so so so much deeper than that, you're so gorgeous and perfect and you don't need to change a single thing."

"Thanks... but that doesn't change what I think about myself... I... I think...I honestly think I need help James, like proper help, professional help." You sighed quietly "Because I don't want to get really really sick, but I don't want to look back at our wedding photos and grimace at how awful and fat I looked in them."

"You aren't fat baby." I assured you "But if you think you need help, I'll get it for you, I'll make an appointment tomorrow morning."

You thanked me quietly before getting up slowly and saying you were going to run a bath, I let you go, watching as you got undressed into just your boxers, saddened by the way your ribs looked more visible than the way they should, how bruised and scratched your back was from the attack. It genuinely hurt me to see you so pained.

And that's why I decided not to tell you about me dying, I wouldn't be able to deal with being the reason you were crying on my shoulder, I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that I'm the reason you're letting out gut wrenching sobs, I wouldn't be able to console you, I'd fall apart with you, and I can just see the entire relationship becoming so quickly dysfunctional with both of us in pieces.

I love you, please remember that, always,

You'll be okay, I promise.

James x