James Hetfield one-shots

My Friend of Misery

The room was covered in darkness, everything was in silence except my mind. There was an evil voice in my head that kept feeding me with malicious thoughts. I tried to stop them by putting the pillow on my head hoping it'd help me. I kept telling myself reassuring things, reasons why not to feel so bad. After all, I'd just moved into our new house with my long-term boyfriend, James, who was sleeping calmly next to me while I was struggling with my growing depression. It was awful. I didn't know why I felt that way, there was no reason to be unhappy. However, I couldn't help, my chest was filled with emptiness and bitterness, and the worst was that I felt so useless: I was aware that I couldn't do anything against it, it was simply slowly taking over me. I sat up and embraced my pulled up legs as I let out a drawn-out sigh.

"Hey," I heard a drowsy voice coming from my right. "Is everything okay?" asked James as he slowly sat up in the bed, clumsily crawling closer to me.  "D'you feel sick?" His voice was husky as he'd just woken up. I really liked that—it made my dimples slightly visible—his voice sent a pleasant feeling down my stomach even in that vicious time.

"No, I'm fine," I said, shaking my head.

"There must be something wrong if you're sitting here at 2 am." His sentence shocked me; I had no idea I'd been tossing around for so long. "So tell me. What's wrong?" He insisted.

"I've had a nightmare," I lied while carefully avoiding looking into his sleepy blue eyes.

"C'mon, I know you," he said. "You haven't slept a bit, have you?" I remained in silence which was equal to admitting that he was right. I kept staring at my knees, never looking at him. "You know you can tell me anything, so spit it out." He put his large hands on my shoulders—his skin hot against mine—and I could feel his palms gently and reassuringly sliding down and then back up on them.

"I just..." I sighed, struggling to tell him the truth. "I feel so bad," I said finally, the words breaking out of my mouth. "I'm trying so hard to focus on the good things, and I know that I have nothing to be sad about..." I tried to explain myself to let him know that I was absolutely happy with him, and the fault was in me. "But I'm still weak."

"It's probably because of moving, don't you think?" He asked. "It was rather stressful and exhausting."

"No," I shook my head. "It's pumped me up, actually. I'm glad that we finally live together. It's just... it's so silly!" I anxiously ran my fingers through my hair, and for the first time I finally turned to look into his eyes. His long blond hair was messy, but his eyes were boring into mine looking for answers.

"It can't be silly if it keeps you awake in the dead of night, Sweetie." He kept on caressing my shoulders until he took away his right arm sneaking it around my waist and pulling me closer to him. The familiarity of his scent and his warm body helped me ease, and I felt the grip around my knees loosen.

"It's like there's a huge hole right in the middle of my chest." I lifted my left hand and put it on my chest where my heart should be, indicating where that hole was supposed to be. I laughed nervously because I felt so stupid telling him such things, but instead of laughing at me, he listened carefully. "And it... it is growing from time to time, and I can't stop it." I shook my head, both of my hands were away from my knees now. "I feel emptiness and bitterness," I went on trying to explain him what I was feeling. "And all I can do is sit here because I'm unable to do anything." My hands moved intensely as I was talking to him as if my gestures would help me make him understand me more. "And the funniest part is," I chuckled humorlessly, "that I can't even tell why I feel this way. It just happens." By the time I finished my little speech, even I was surprised to realize that my problems somehow seemed smaller as I'd shared them with him, as I'd been able to share them with him. I was pretty sure that his large, protective arm embracing me and the other one now resting on my thigh also made everything brighter. Safer.

"It... It must be hard to talk about this," he said. "But if you ever feel like this again," he continued, "I want you to talk to me, all right?" His hand wandered from my thigh to my chin, and he gently made me face him. His blue eyes gazed deep into mine waiting for the answer.

I slowly nodded.

"I hate that you feel this way," he said, "But I know it isn't something you've got control over." He spoke in a serious tone. "But, you know, I do believe if you talk about it, and I'll also distract you from the negative thoughts, it'll be easier. Just trust me, and don't carry this weight alone when I'm here by your side, and can help you."

My lips curled up, and I leaned close to him to give a kiss on his left cheek as I softly whispered a "thank you" into his ears. He looked at me and pulled me even closer to him. No words needed to be said, we spoke through the eyes. There was such connection between us that I couldn't explain, I could only feel it being present in my entire body: from my head to my toes. It was like an invisible, but very thick rope that was twisted around him and me.

He gently caressed my face with his thumb, which slowly wandered to my mouth. I could feel his warm breath as he got closer by every inch. He put his mouth onto mine, at first only covering it with small kisses, and then he delicately pushed his tongue into my mouth. I couldn't tell whose lips belonged to whom, they melted into one another while our tongues were moving lively and passionately.

"Now let's sleep." He told me as our mouths parted. "I don't want you to be tired," he said. "Tomorrow is ours."

He put his hands on my hips, and as he lay down, he also pulled me down with himself. We were lying next to each other—me on my back, and James had just turned to his side, gliding his arm over me, his hand ending up on my hip.

"Good night, Sweetie," he said giving me a goodnight kiss on my cheek, then put his head in the crook of my neck. I saw his eyes close, and—feeling his warm breath on my skin—I did the same way as a delicate smile appeared on my face.