8.
There were eight.
Why did there have to be eight.
One by one, you counted and traced each bullet wound, wishing away it's existence.
You had the power to heal, that's why you were with the Avengers, even after being held by Strucker, but bringing the already dead back to life? This was beyond even your capabilities.
Once again, if only to torture yourself, you counted again each of his bullet wounds, placing a soft kiss to each one in the hope that maybe there was something, something you could do.
To the one on his collarbone, for all the nights you had fallen asleep together under the stars.To the one above his heart, for however long he's had yours.To the one on his left arm, for all the times he had held you.To the one on his right shoulder, for all the times he was there when you needed a cry.To the one on his sternum, for every moment you ever had together.To the one on his stomach, for every meal you had cooked together on the run.To the one on his hand, for when he never let you go.
As your lips connected with the final wound, you heard a shuddering breath above you, as you let slip your last.
YOU ARE READING
one-shot collection [multi-fandom]
Short StoryA collection of one-shots and drabbles from my tumblr #816 in Drabble || #4 in drabblecollection