How would you feel? (if I told you I loved you) ((english version))

Just to make up with u

A week has gone since her accident and Lucie is peacefully recovering at the Massachusetts General. Some stitches are still pulling and some bruises are still aching but she feels better. Maybe it's because of the ever presence of Chris, she can't tell but he sure is of great help. She has just gotten out of surgery, for her knee. Her third fucking surgery,, and she's still groggy, everything around her looks so blurry and she can't make out one thing from another. That's fucking frustrating! The anesthesia makes her sleepy, her mouth is heavy and she can't even with all her efforts, utter a single word. Yeah, so very frustrating. She hears a chuckle from the far end of the room and she knows it's Chris. The bastard, he is literally laughing at her face and she can't do anything to stop him from doing so. Jerk. "Hey sleepyhead, you can rest now, everything went alright and the docs are positively hopping for a full recovery, so... That's good news, third time's a charm.". Yeah. That's fucking great! 'Cause her knee was the only thing that still kept her in this awful, sterilized room, and now, she can finally go home. Well, at Chris'. Fucking stairs... She hates them. On second thoughts, maybe not so much...

"Ok Lucie, everything looks good, you just have to keep taking your painkillers and change your bandages everyday. And especially, you need to continue resting, that's the only way to a full recovery". Doctor's order, and they are good to go. Chris pushes the wheelchair of a steaming Lucie until they joins the hospital's pharmacy to collect everything she'll need. He still has the urge to laugh, remembering when the doctor announced to her that crutches will not work with her broken arm and forced her into the wheelchair. After he left, she had left out a string of particularly nasty and colorful insults directed at the doctor as Chris had been laughing his ass out. She's still fuming when they retrieve their due and join his black sedan parked near the hospital entrance. With his help, they manage to sit her comfortably on the passenger seat, raising the height of her injured leg and careful with her ribs and arm. He buckles her too, grinning a little, when he sees her struggling with the seatbelt. Folding the wheelchair and grabbing her bags, he puts everything in the trunk and climbs on the car next to her. He glances at her and takes on her form, sprawled over the car door, head resting on the window. She looks so small and so tired, like a frail bird, and he is afraid to break her. Casting his eyes on the road, he turns the ignition on and reverses, speeding on the highway to his home. When he stops the car outside the house, he notices that Scott's still here, probably taking care of Dodger. Lucie has been quiet all the ride and he isn't surprised to find her sound asleep right there on his car. He goes out smoothly and opens carefully her door, bending and placing an arm under her unharmed knee and the other at the crook of her neck, he lifts her trying his best to not wake her up. Making his way across his driveway, he knocks at the door and waits for Scott to open it, carrying Lucie in and dropping her off on the couch. He drops her favorite blanket, yes she told him so when they still were a thing, on her body, keeping her warm and comfortable. He places a pillow under her knee like the doctors told them to do. He then approaches his brother, saluting him with a pat on the back and thanking him infinitely for his help. "With pleasure Bro, now you owe me one!" Scott replies, a smile across his face. After unloading the trunk, he makes them a cup of coffee and they sit on the stools at the bar, Dodger happily asleep at Chris's feet after a good cuddle session. "So, she's gonna be ok, right?". He nods despite the concern he still feels sometimes. "Yes, her arm and ribs are on the way of recovery, no sides effects due to her concussion, bruises and scratches are almost healed, only her knee is still concerning 'cause they are hopeful for a full recovery but you never know...". Yeah, he is still worried about that thing, 'cause she can loose the ability to use her left leg, and she can't afford that, not when she's so young and has a long life before her... "Stop worrying so much Evans, I'm gonna be aaaaalright!" Lucie slurs, drifting right back onto a deep sleep. He feels his lips stretch on a fucking idiotic smile and he's not sure how he's going to live daily by her side without having the right to act on his feelings. Because he had lost that right when he had lie to her... "Hey Chris, everything is going to settle down in the end, don't worry... And when I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING!". Oh, he hopes so because he doesn't know what he's going to do if it doesn't... Scott leaves shortly after that, promising to ask for news of them everyday and Chris doesn't really know how to occupy his time now that he had tidy every little corner of the house, prepared the guest room for Lucie and even played a bit with his dog. So he finally sits at the end of his couch, Lucie's feet thrown over his lap, remembering every little moments they had on this couch. Every little kisses, every little touches, some "I love you"s murmured in each other ears that fateful morning. How much he misses these little things... He still feels like he hasn't cherished these times enough, hasn't basked on it like he should have done. And now he feels so guilty about it, because look at them now... She'll never trust him like she did before, he's so fucking sure of it... He remembers it. Too vividly... They're cuddled on the couch, watching absently the third film of the Harry Potter Saga, not on his own will that's for sure, but he can't say no to her... She's one of his weakness. He feels her attention diverting from the TV, settling on him instead. "You know, I meant it when I said that I love you. I know that I can trust you with my heart Chris... Will you promise to never break it?". He looses himself on her warm eyes, the velvet of her voice enrapturing him... And he nods, 'cause he can't break her heart, he loves her too much to do so... But in the end, he did. He had broken that promise and now, she knows she can't trust him. A groan of pain pulls him out of his dark thoughts, gathering his focus on the fragile girl half asleep on his couch. "You're alright sweetheart?" he calls out, concern dripping from his every words. "Yeah, yeah. Just the stitches pulling a little on my leg". Moving swiftly, he reaches for a box of painkillers and the glass of water he had prepared earlier and passes it to her before helping her sitting a little straighter. She downs it, making a face and she relaxes a bit on her corner of the sofa. "Thanks, how long have I been out?" she asks, still sleepy and a little on edge. He can understand that, she's recovering from a nasty accident in the house of her ex boyfriend who appears to have broken her heart. He should write a book about that, "How to make people uncomfortable in ten lessons", it would be a bestseller... "For about three, maybe four hours. You looked like you could enjoy a good nap on something else than this cardboard they called a mattress". That earns him a little grin and raises his hopes a little higher, but he sees her gaze trailing to the French doors and frowning, seeing how dark it is out there. He knows that look, in three, two, one... "Shit, I'm so fucking useless!". Bingo. He stands and crouches next to where she's sitting, holding her face in his hands, looking directly through her. "No, no, no darling, you're not useless. Don't be so hard on yourself, you suffered multiple traumas, it's just fair to you that I let you rest, plus, if it wasn't for me, nothing of all this things would have happened... I'm so sorry Sweetheart, for everything fucking thing I let you endure...". He fucked her up like he fucked himself up. He had tainted her with the darkness of his world... How can he sort this out? He can't right? He can't.