#like hello yes i've been in the hospital since tuesday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blueskrugs · 3 years

Text

i wouldn't be here (if i didn't love you) | Tyson Jost

it's finally here! this is my fic for @antoineroussel summer fic exchange, written for the lovely @matbaerzal! I'm so, so sorry this is so late, but life kinda threw me for a loop this summer. and then I finally started writing it and it got...long. very long. like "one of the longest fics I've ever written" long. but, amalie (and everyone else) I hope you like it!

content warnings: mentions and description of major hockey-related injury and recovery, mentions of vomiting, brief hospital scenes

length: 10.5k words

Your phone rang at 8:36 on a Tuesday night in January. Scott Woodward, the screen told you. You read it again. That was one of the Avs’ athletic trainers.

You thought you’d deleted that number after Tyson broke up with you.

You swiped your thumb across the screen and held the phone up to your ear. “Hello?” you asked hesitantly.

There were muffled voices on the end of the line. They sounded urgent, and for the first time, worry began to sit heavy in your stomach.

“Oh, shit,” you heard, and then, “Thank God, I was worried you weren’t going to pick up.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked. You could still hear other voices on Scott’s end of the call.

“Are you in Denver?” Scott asked, instead of answering your question.

“Yes, why?”

“Can you come to The Can? Like, now?” Scott paused. “It’s Tyson.”

It wasn’t called The Can anymore, you thought, nonsensically, instead of letting yourself worry more. You had work in the morning. You had laundry you should be doing. You turned the TV off and went to find your shoes and car keys.

“I can be there in twenty minutes,” you told Scott.

You made it to the arena in eighteen minutes. (You’d only sped a little bit.) Except, as you made your way to the player’s parking garage, you realized your problem: you didn’t have clearance to be there. You hadn’t been to the arena since…last April. The season had ended, and then Tyson broke up with you before the new one started, and, suddenly, you didn’t have any reason to be parking there anymore.

Still, you carefully pulled into the parking garage. There was a security guard waiting, and so was Scott, looking harried and exhausted, all at once. They watched as you found Tyson’s car and parked in the open spot beside it. When you went to pull your key out of the ignition, you realized for the first time that your hands were shaking. Car off, you sat in the driver’s seat in silence, trying to even out your breathing, before you opened your door and climbed out.

Scott gave you a grim smile as you made your way over to them. You hurried to keep up as they made their way to the players’ entrance, and through the once-familiar tunnels towards the training rooms. Scott didn’t speak, and you didn’t ask any of the burning questions you had.

Eventually, you stopped in front of a closed door. The halls around you were hushed, though they should have been bustling. Distantly, you could hear the crowd, the noises of a game carrying on. You didn’t even know who the Avs were playing, didn’t know the last time you’d watched a game.

“Why am I here?” you asked finally.

Scott paused with his hand on the doorknob. “He keeps asking for you,” Scott admitted, which didn’t answer your question, and actually left you with more.

“What happened?”

Scott hesitated. “Don’t look up video, you don’t need to see it.”

“Scott,” you pressed. You were anxious again, chest tight with it. You leaned against the wall; you weren’t sure if you could do this.

“He has a pretty bad concussion and a broken collarbone,” Scott said. You squeezed your eyes shut and tilted your chin up to the ceiling. “They wanted to take him to UCHealth for an MRI, but he said he wouldn’t go anywhere until you got here.” You rolled your eyes. Tyson would be stubborn about this. “Look, he’s not in the best shape right now,” Scott told you. His hand was still on the doorknob.

“I can handle it,” you said confidently. Or, you hoped it sounded confident. You didn't know if you actually could handle it, honestly. You hadn’t seen or heard from Tyson in months, and the first time you were face to face with him was going to be in a dark room when he was injured and only capable of asking for you, apparently.

Scott turned the handle without another word and ushered you inside. The training room was dim, just enough light to see Tyson’s motionless body on the table, flat on his back. His right arm was in a sling, and his left was draped across his eyes. He didn’t react as you stepped farther inside and shut the door quietly behind you. Someone had left a chair up near Tyson’s head, and you settled into it. Up close, Tyson’s curls were disheveled, still damp with sweat. You wanted to run your fingers through them, like you used to.

You settled for placing your hand gently on his good shoulder and murmuring, “Tys.”

You could see Tyson wince at the noise, but he moved his arm and blinked up at you a few times, trying to find you in the dark. He reached for you, but his depth perception was off, and he nearly smacked you. You held back a laugh and took his hand.

“You came.” Tyson sounded surprised.

“Of course I did,” you whispered. You tried not to think too much about what it meant that you were dropping everything to drive across the city for your ex-boyfriend.

There was a soft knock on the door then, and a paramedic stuck her head in.

“Oh, good, you must be the girlfriend,” she said. It wasn’t worth correcting her. “We’re gonna go ahead and get Tyson out to the hospital now, because the sooner we get done there, the sooner we can get him home and comfortable,” she said.

Tyson made a face at you. He didn’t want to let go of your hand, either, which made it difficult for them to load him on a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance. He panicked when you finally extracted yourself and began to head for your car.

“Wait,” he called, then winced at the sound of his own voice. He was squinting against the harsh lights in the back of the ambulance. “You’re coming, too, right?”

You recognized the tone of Tyson’s voice. He was scared. You climbed back up into the ambulance.

“Yeah, bud, I’m not going anywhere,” you said softly.

“She’s gonna follow us in her car,” one of the paramedics said. “But she’ll be with you again as soon as we get to the hospital.”

Tyson settled back onto the stretcher, but his face still looked worried. You bent to press a kiss to his forehead before you could think better of it. Tyson’s face softened.

“I’ll see you soon, okay, Tys?” you said. Tyson nodded, and you left the ambulance.

JT had passed you a bag full of Tyson’s things before you left, and you dug out Tyson’s wallet and phone before you threw the bag in the backseat of your car. You tossed his things in the passenger seat; you weren't sure if you'd need them at the hospital. You numbly followed the ambulance to Aurora, radio off, left alone with your racing thoughts. Looking back, you couldn’t have repeated a single turn you took.

You met Tyson again in the ER, back in a quiet, private room. They’d already dimmed the lights, and a nurse was just finishing up setting an IV in Tyson’s left arm.

“How was it, bub?” you asked.

Tyson pouted at you, and this time you couldn’t resist running your fingers gently through his curls. He was sweaty again, and his curls were knotty and tangled.

“I threw up twice,” he whined. “And my head hurts.”

“Poor baby,” you said. Tyson wrinkled his nose at you, but he didn’t have time to retort before a doctor came into the room. You listened as the doctor explained the reason behind the MRI they would be doing, but it was still mostly a blur to you. “Are you good if I stay down here?” you asked Tyson.

He nodded, slowly. You squeezed his hand one last time and watched as they rolled him out of sight.

Despite what Scott told you at the Can, you pulled out your phone as soon as you sat down in the uncomfortable chair in the corner. It wasn’t hard to find the video. You watched, frozen in horror, as Tyson was crunched up against the boards by a defenseman twice his size. His visor bounced off the glass before Tyson crumpled, and his head hit the ice again as he went down. You let the video repeat, not really seeing your screen.

You were still staring, eyes unfocused, down at your phone, when a nurse poked her head in. “Need anything?” she asked. You startled, but managed a weak smile at her, shaking your head. “Well, Tyson should be back down soon, and then we can get you two home. I’m sure you’re both exhausted.”

You were exhausted, you realized suddenly, even though you hadn’t done much all day. It was later than you realized, too. It was almost 11 PM, and it would be a while still before you could get to bed, if you managed any sleep at all.

It was only a few more minutes before they wheeled Tyson back into the little room. He looked small and pale in his bed. His eyes were closed, but he reached for you as soon as they locked the wheels in place again. You squeezed his hand tightly. Tyson squeezed back, and when you glanced up at his face, he was smiling faintly.

The doctor had come back with Tyson, but thankfully they’d passed on most of the important information to the trainers. “The most important thing for these first few days is rest,” he was telling you. “Keep an eye on him tonight and tomorrow especially. After that, your trainers will help you work out a better recovery plan, for both the concussion and the clavicle.”

Tyson nodded; his eyes were still closed. You were handed Tyson’s discharge instructions and a bottle of pain meds for his collarbone, and, just like that, you were both free to go. A nurse bundled Tyson into a wheelchair and wheeled him outside, while you went to find your car and pull it around.

Tyson climbed into your passenger seat gingerly, and you didn’t miss his wince as the seatbelt settled across his shoulder. “Head hurts,” he mumbled, leaning back against the headrest.

“I’m sorry, Tys,” you said quietly as you pulled away from the curb.

The radio was still off, and you didn’t reach to turn it back on as you carefully navigated the dark streets of Denver. The drive to Tyson’s apartment was still familiar. You made the turns without thinking about them, and before long, you were pulling into Tyson’s spot in the parking garage. At some point during the drive, Tyson had dozed off, head leaned uncomfortably against the window.

You reached over to shake his left shoulder gently, and he startled. He blinked at you a few times. You were, annoyingly, still endeared by it all.

“We’re home,” you whispered. Tyson yawned. “C’mon, bud, let’s get you to bed.” You went to the backseat to drag Tyson’s bag out, digging through it to get to his keys. “Jesus, where did Comph leave your fucking keys?” you muttered. Tyson laughed sleepily at you from over near the elevator. You finally found the keys and held them up triumphantly.

The elevator was waiting, and Tyson reached for his bag as you stepped in. “Here, lemme,” he started.

“Uh-uh, no way,” you said. You held the bag farther away from Tyson for good measure. “You’re all broken, I’m carrying the fucking bag,” you told him.

Tyson shook his head at you but didn’t argue. He was leaning heavily against the elevator wall, already half-asleep again. He led the way down the hall to his apartment once you reached his floor, though, and waited impatiently while you fumbled with his keys. You dropped the bag just inside the doorway, watched Tyson lose his balance as he tried to kick off his shoes, then wince when he instinctively caught himself on the wall with his right arm.

The apartment was dark, but you didn’t turn any lights on, herding Tyson towards his bedroom on memory alone. Tyson tripped on a pile of dirty clothes near the foot of his bed, muttered, “Ow,” before collapsing in a heap on the bed. You poked him with your foot. He rolled over enough to glare at you.

“You should at least brush your teeth,” you said. Tyson groaned, but levered himself off the bed and stumbled towards his bathroom. He didn’t turn any lights on, either, you noticed.

While Tyson was in the bathroom, you busied yourself with stacking all his pillows so he could sleep sitting up and not roll over onto his injured side. You stole a T-shirt and sweats to sleep in, too. Tyson emerged as you pulled the T-shirt over your head. He’d stopped short just outside the doorway and was staring at you.

“What?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Tyson shook himself. “Nothing, nothing,” he said. He started over to the bed and climbed under the covers.

“Do you need anything?” you asked. “Water, pain meds?” You knew you were fussing, but you didn’t know what else to do.

Tyson shook his head, but you went into the kitchen and filled a glass of water, anyway. Tyson reached for you as you set it on his bedside table. “Stay,” he said, holding onto your wrist.

Reluctantly, you climbed into bed next to him. Tyson was asleep in minutes.

Lying next to Tyson in the dark, you tried to muster up some of the anger and hurt you’d felt when he’d first broken up with you. Tried to apply it to this situation you’d somehow found yourself in, lying in bed next to your ex at midnight, having to take care of him, when you could’ve been sound asleep in your own bed. It didn’t come.

Sleep didn’t come, either. You lay awake for what felt like hours, listening to the even breathing of Tyson’s breaths as he slept peacefully next to you. You must’ve dozed off at some point, because when you blinked awake again, the bed was empty. You sat up, panicked. Tyson couldn’t have gotten far, but he could easily have fallen and injured himself again.

You got tangled in the sheets as you rushed out of bed. Indeed, Tyson hadn’t gotten far. You found him curled up on the bathroom rug, leaned awkwardly against the shower door. He looked like he was asleep, but he opened his eyes and lifted his head as soon as you approached him.

“Tyson? What’s wrong, what happened?” you asked. You crouched down next to Tyson.

“Didn’t wanna wake you,” he mumbled. Again, you waited for the flash of anger, but instead, you felt your heart break. “Got dizzy, didn’t wanna throw up again,” he continued. “Stayed.”

You sighed. “Tyson.” Tyson looked up at you. He looked miserable. “C’mere, babe, let’s go back to bed, yeah?” You helped Tyson off the floor and let him lean on you as you walked slowly back to bed. You fussed over him some more as he settled under the sheets, tucking him in and making sure his pillows were still propped up enough. Tyson didn’t say anything, but you saw the way he hid his smile.

“‘M sorry,” he murmured, as you started to turn to go back to your side of the bed.

You paused. Tyson was already most of the way asleep again, slouching into his pillows. You pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, brushing his curls back.

Nothing to be sorry for, you didn’t say, because there were things to be sorry for. For the breakup. For asking for you when he got injured. For making you worry. But those were all conversations for another day.

Tyson woke up once more during the night, stared blankly at the ceiling for a few minutes before rousing himself enough to ask you for pain meds. You were already awake, had never really fallen back asleep after waking to an empty bed, nothing more than fitful dozes and restless dreams. It didn’t take Tyson long to fall asleep again, but you laid awake for a while, long enough that your eyes adjusted to the dark and you could see his face clearly next to yours. You traced the familiar lines of his face— his nose, the curve of his agape mouth, the way his too-long curls flopped over his forehead— for a long time, until your eyes fell closed.

You crawled out of bed early the next morning. Tyson was still snoring softly, sprawled haphazardly across his pillows. Your eyes burned, but the coffee maker in the kitchen was as familiar as your own. Soon, the apartment smelled like fresh coffee. You tutted to yourself as you rummaged through Tyson’s fridge and pantry for breakfast options. His shelves were as bare as ever; you’d have to go grocery shopping for him at some point.

Tyson stumbled out of the bedroom as you started on your second mug of coffee. You’d kept the apartment mostly dark, curtains partially drawn and only a few lights on, but Tyson still squinted against the brightness. His left hand rubbed across his forehead, and you wondered if he even realized he was doing it. You wondered, too, how much pain he was in, how much he would stubbornly take before he complained.

Out of habit, Tyson reached for the cabinet where he kept the coffee mugs with his right arm, the arm in the sling. He hissed and doubled over, resting his forehead on the counter until the pain subsided.

You stepped in before he could do something else. “Sorry, Tys, no coffee until the trainers say it’s allowed,” you said.

You’d woken up to dozens of texts—from other players, from Laura and Kacey, from Scott and Matt, the head trainer—that you hadn’t noticed the night before. You’d responded quickly to Kacey and Laura, sent an update to Gabe and told him to pass it on to the other guys, and told the trainers you’d drag Tyson in to see them after everyone else was finished with morning skate.

Tyson groaned and turned his best puppy eyes on you. Those had stopped working on you a long time ago.

“Go sit,” you told him. “I’m making you breakfast.”

Tyson didn’t try to argue, just went to sit on one of the barstools at the island and propped his chin up on his left fist to watch you. You moved through the kitchen with ease, making eggs and a piece of toast from bread that was definitely stale, stuff you were pretty sure wouldn’t make Tyson nauseous again. It was quiet, until Tyson gasped. You nearly dropped the spatula you were holding.

“What?”

“My mom,” was all Tyson said.

You laughed softly. “I texted her and told her you were okay this morning.” Across from you, Tyson relaxed. “If you feel up to it later, you can call her yourself.” You’d noticed Tyson hadn’t grabbed his phone when he woke up, and it was still sitting with his keys by the front door.

Tyson grinned at you, but it was weak, a shadow of his normal smile. You’d missed seeing his smile for months, but seeing this one, fake and unenthusiastic, made you miss it more than ever.

“Thank you,” he said as you slid a plate in front of him.

You no longer had clothes at Tyson’s apartment, so you were stuck wearing your clothes from the night before as you drove down to the Avs’ practice facility after breakfast. Tyson was quiet in the passenger seat of your car, though at some point he’d turned the radio on low, so soft music filled the silence between you. You couldn’t help but think about the last time you’d been in a car like this with Tyson, awkwardly reserved. It had ended with a breakup.

Tyson was driving. He’d picked you up almost as soon as he got off the plane to Denver and taken you to lunch. His hand rested on the gearshift, but he was fidgeting, absently rubbing his thumb along a seam, his fingernail click, click, clicking across it.

“Tys,” you said, reaching over to grab his hand. He didn’t wrap his fingers around yours like he normally did, hand stiff in yours. You let go, and Tyson’s hand dropped back to the gearshift.

“Sorry,” he said, not looking at you.

The radio was playing quietly, and you reached for the dial to turn it up, something to do with your hands, to fill the tense silence in the car. Tyson turned it back down. The light turned green, and he carefully pressed the gas pedal and started moving again. You frowned and turned to look out your window instead.

Tyson pulled up to your apartment building and put his car in park, but he made no move to turn it off, to get out of the car.

You unbuckled your seatbelt. “You coming up?” you asked, hand on the door.

Tyson rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Nah, I’m pretty tired, was thinking about going home and taking a nap.”

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in months, and you just wanted to spend some time with him. You were more than willing to take a nap—and just a nap—together, but you didn’t say that.

“Right, yeah, of course,” you said instead. You pulled on the door handle and started to push open the door.

“Hey, wait,” Tyson said. The door shut softly. “I’ve been thinking this summer, and,” Tyson paused and ran his hand through his hair again. “I think we should take a break. I really want to be able to focus on my game this season, I feel like I’m running out of chances to prove myself, and I just don’t need any extra distractions.” Tyson wouldn’t look at you, just stared blankly out the windshield.

You’d been frozen in your seat, but now you were angry. “A distraction? Is that all I ever was to you? All we ever were? A fucking distraction?”

Tyson winced. “That’s not what I meant,” he tried.

“No, I think that’s exactly what you meant.” You opened the door and got out of the car. You’d been hoping for at least a goodbye kiss before you went up to your apartment alone, not whatever this was. “Good luck this season, Tyson.” You slammed the car door behind you.

You itched to reach across the console and hold Tyson’s hand again, but you kept your hands to yourself and on the steering wheel.

Tyson led the way to the training rooms, where Matt and Scott were already waiting for you.

Scott intercepted you as Tyson stepped past you and into the room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked.

“Behave,” you told Tyson over his shoulder. He stuck his tongue out at you, and then Matt shut the door.

Scott led you a little ways down the hall. “Thanks again for coming in and taking care of Tyson last night,” he started. “I know you two aren’t exactly on the best of terms these days.” You scoffed. That was an understatement. (You were carefully trying not to think about how easy it still was to be around Tyson, a routine and intimacy that hadn’t faded in the months apart.)

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” you said. Except it was, kinda.

Scott looked relieved, and for the first time you realized that he’d looked nervous before. “Look, we want someone to stick around and keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid and isn’t struggling with concussion symptoms too much for another few days,” he said. What he didn’t say was that they wanted that someone to be you.

“Why can’t JT do it?” you asked. It came out whinier than you meant it to.

“We’re leaving on a road trip later this afternoon, and we won’t be back until after the game on Monday night.” Nearly a week. And JT and Tyson didn’t live together anymore, hadn’t since the Rookie House days with Kerfy, you knew that.

You sighed. You were starting to get a headache of your own. “Fine.”

Tyson trailed behind you as you strode back through the halls of the practice facility. In his hand, he clutched a list of PT exercises he’d be able to start to keep his shoulder from stiffening up, as well as a list of reminders. It seemed like Matt had also informed him of the plan for you to keep babysitting him, because he didn’t ask why you were in such a rush to get out of there.

He stayed quiet in the car, but he kept fucking with the radio, changing the stations with seemingly no rhyme or reason.

“Tyson,” you said, snapped.

Tyson shrank back in his seat. You sighed. “Sorry,” he murmured. “And sorry about...all of this.”

“Stop apologizing,” you said.

“Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Where are we going?” he asked. “My apartment is the other way.”

You had literally nothing of your own at Tyson’s apartment, you reminded him. If you were going to be stuck with him for a week you’d need clothes, a toothbrush, your laptop. Anything to help keep you sane. You pulled up to your apartment and threw the car in park. Once again, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of deja vu. You’d been here before with Tyson, many times, but that one time in particular would always be the one you could never forget.

“Stay,” you told him, “I won’t be long.”

Tyson pouted at you. “I’m not a dog,” he protested. “And I’ll just get bored down here.”

“And you’ll just be in my way up there,” you countered. You didn’t tell him that you just didn’t want him to see your apartment, didn’t think he had that right, not when you were already giving him so much of yourself to spend the week taking care of him. “Tys, I’ll be like, ten minutes, I promise. Please, just wait for me, okay?”

Something in your tone got your message across to Tyson. He nodded, settled back into the passenger seat. He looked small all of a sudden, hunched in on himself, arm in a sling and eyes tired. You felt bad, a little, and you got out of the car quickly, before you could do something you’d regret. Like apologize. Or kiss him.

Your apartment was silent and still, messy just the way you’d left it. You leaned against your closed door for a moment, relishing in your last moments of peace for the next six days. A few tears fell, but you stubbornly wiped them away and went to find your suitcase.

Tyson’s eyes were closed when you got back to your car. He might’ve been asleep, and you closed the trunk as quietly as you could before sliding back into the driver’s seat. Tyson stirred when you started the car, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“Home?” he murmured.

You let yourself look at him for a moment. “Yeah, Tys, we’re going home,” you said.

Tyson flopped in a heap on the couch the moment he made it through the front door, dragging a throw pillow over his face. You set your suitcase down carefully. Tyson had seemed okay in the morning, but all the activity had clearly worn him out again. You pulled the curtains in the living room shut fully before stepping over to Tyson.

“How you feelin’, bud?” you asked.

Tyson didn’t move the pillow away from his face. “Tired, head hurts,” he said, voice muffled.

“Let me get you something to take, and you can take a nap, okay?” Tyson nodded minutely. He still didn’t take the pillow off his face. “You’re gonna have to move the pillow if you want to take this,” you told him, standing over him with a few pills and a glass of water in your hand.

You thought you heard Tyson groan and grumble something, but he moved the pillow and sat up. He grimaced, though, and froze while he waited for a wave of dizziness to pass. He rubbed the heel of his hand across his forehead. You winced in sympathy.

“You should go to bed,” you told him.

Tyson heaved a sigh and pulled himself off the couch, leaning heavily on his left arm for balance. He started to walk down the hall towards the bedroom, but stopped after a few steps, looking back over his shoulder at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you coming, too?” he asked. “I know you didn’t sleep well last night,” he added.

“How would you know that, you slept like the dead,” you retorted automatically.

Tyson rolled his eyes. “C’mon,” he said. He reached a hand out for you.

The fact that it was Tyson lying in bed next to you last night had as much to do with your sleeplessness as your worry over him. It had been a long time since you’d shared a bed with him, but now that you had it again...you weren’t sure you wanted it anymore. Or you did want it, but not like this.

You wanted to ask what Tyson had been thinking, when he’d asked for you down on the ice. Of all the people in his life, why were you the first person he thought of, when you were no longer in his life? That had been his choice. But it had been your choice to get in your car and drive to him, your choice to stay.

Tyson was still waiting for your answer. You hesitated. “I think I’ll stay out here for a while,” you said.

Tyson frowned, but he headed for the bedroom and closed the door behind him. You collapsed on the couch with a sigh of your own. You had no idea how you were going to get through this week.

Tyson woke you later, standing over you and...wearing swim trunks? You reached for your phone to check the time; over an hour had passed. You hadn’t even realized you were falling asleep.

“I need your help,” Tyson said.

That got you from half-awake to fully awake real fast. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

Tyson looked sheepish, you realized. “I wanted to take a shower, but then I realized I can’t wash my hair with my shoulder all fucked, and I need your help,” he finished in a rush.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Are you saying you need me to wash your hair?” you asked him.

Tyson was definitely blushing now. He wouldn’t meet your eyes when he mumbled, “Yes.”

You reached a hand out to him, and he took it, though he couldn’t really do much to pull you off the couch. Neither of you let go as you led him back down the hall and into his bathroom. The fan was running already, but the shower wasn’t, and you reached in to turn the water on, adjust the temperature to where you knew Tyson liked it. Tyson was still standing awkwardly just inside the doorway.

“Do you need help getting the sling off?” you asked.

Tyson seemed to shake himself. “No, no, I can do it,” he said. He reached for the buckle, cautiously undid it and slid the sling off. He flexed his shoulder a little, but judging by the face he made, he wouldn’t be trying that again anytime soon. “Ow,” he said, almost too quiet for you to hear. It took him a minute to figure out how to pull off his T-shirt without moving his arm, but eventually he dropped that to the floor, too.

His collarbone was a mess of bruises, mottled dark purple and ugly. It was still a little swollen. You reached to run your fingers over it, gently, without realizing you were doing it. Tyson hissed a little, but he didn’t flinch away. You froze, fingertips still resting on the jut of bone. You hadn’t been this close to Tyson in a long time.

Tyson took a deep breath, to say something to or to lean in, you weren’t sure, but you stepped back hurriedly anyway. Tyson blinked at you a few times, but he didn’t speak. He stepped past you to get into the shower.

“Y’know, it’s not like I’ve never seen you naked before,” you commented casually, eyes on Tyson’s ridiculous swim trunks. And immediately regretted it, because Tyson stumbled, halfway into the shower. He was holding his right arm carefully, so as not to jostle it, and he had to flail to catch himself with his left arm, before he smacked face-first into the shower wall or landed flat on his ass. He glared at you over his shoulder. “Sorry,” you said in between giggles.

You took a minute to assess the shower situation fully for the first time. Tyson’s shower was definitely big enough for two people, but he was taller than you. There was a small bench in the corner, but it was cluttered with bottles of shower products. Tyson was looking expectantly at you.

“Alright, sit,” you told him.

Tyson carefully moved everything out of the way and perched on the edge of the bench. You carefully unhooked the showerhead, trying not to spray yourself or Tyson in the face as you stepped in and closed the door behind you. The warm water sprayed over your feet and legs. Tyson tilted his chin up and grinned at you as you wet his hair. You resisted the urge to duck down and press a kiss to his lips and reached behind him for the bottle of shampoo instead. (He still used the same brand you’d talked him into trying when you were still dating.) Tyson hummed happily as you worked it into a lather over his curls, digging your fingers in gently. You got lost in it for a few minutes, Tyson leaning into your touch, the quiet calmness of it.

He opened his eyes to pout at you when you stopped. You flicked the end of his nose, softly, and said, “Close your eyes, I don’t want to listen to you complain if I get shampoo in your eyes.”

Tyson rolled his eyes but closed them again. You rinsed the shampoo from his hair slowly, until his curls were plastered to his head. He stood when you let the showerhead drop again, crowding into your space. You rested your hand on his side, on the bare skin just above the waistband of his swim trunks, to steady him, though he probably didn’t need it. Neither of you said anything.

“I should-” you started.

“Thanks,” Tyson murmured at the same time.

You got out of there as fast as you could.

Later, after you’d changed into dry clothes and had scrounged up some chicken and rice to make for dinner, Tyson emerged from the bathroom, flushed and curls still dripping. He’d managed to get his sling back on, and he slid onto a seat at the island.

“I’m not hungry,” he complained.

“Too bad,” you told him. Neither of you had eaten since breakfast. “Just try and eat a little, please?” Tyson huffed. You were going to take it as agreement. “Do you want to call your mom now?” you asked.

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Tyson said. He stood up, spun in a circle. “Where’s my phone?”

You pointed without turning around. “Left it by the door last night.”

You listened as Tyson’s footsteps faded, then returned. He was quiet for a moment, probably scrolling through the endless notifications left from ignoring his phone for an entire day.

“Hi, Mom,” he said finally. You could hear Laura’s voice on the other end of the call, but you couldn’t hear her words. “Yeah, she’s still here.” You could hear Tyson’s smile. He almost sounded fond. “My mom says hi,” he said to you.

“Hi, Laura!” you called.

Tyson stood again and wandered into the living room, his voice fading as he kept chatting with his mom. You could hear him talking quietly to her as you finished cooking. Tyson strolled back in not long after you put everything on two plates, following his nose. He was still on the phone, smiling faintly as he listened to his mom talk. He hooked his chin over your shoulder where you were putting the dishes in the sink. He hummed in response to something Laura said. If he noticed how tense you were, he didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her,” he murmured. “Love you, too, Mom,” he said. Laura kept talking. “It’s dinnertime, gotta go, bye!”

Tyson stepped back finally, and you turned around to face him. “Thought you weren’t hungry,” you teased. He wrinkled his nose at you. You herded Tyson back towards the island, where your food was waiting.

“The boys say hi, too,” he said, mouth full of chicken. You didn’t want to know what the state of the group chat was, or what dumb shit the boys were getting up to in their hotel.

Despite his eagerness to dig in, Tyson mostly picked at his food. You weren’t too upset about it, but you couldn’t resist one more dig.

“I’m not that bad of a cook, am I?” you asked. “You’ve barely eaten anything.”

Tyson flushed and looked down at his plate. He was still pushing the food around with his fork.

“I’m sorry, I just- sorry,” Tyson said. He pushed his plate away.

You kicked his ankle gently. “Hey, it’s okay, I was just teasing, bud,” you told him. Tyson looked up at you, managed a weak smile. “Get outta here, I’ll clean up.”

“You sure?” Tyson asked, but he was already edging towards the living room.

You just shook your head and picked up his plate.

Tyson was on his phone when you walked into the living room a few minutes later, sprawled across half the couch, but he put it down when you pushed his feet out of your way. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, curls all messy from his shower earlier.

“Do you wanna watch something, or go to bed?” you asked him.

Tyson thought about it for a moment, but you had a feeling you knew what his answer would be. “My head hurts, I think I’m gonna go to bed.” He didn’t make any move to get up.

You waited for a minute. “Do you plan on getting up?”

“Hmm, in a minute,” he said. He closed his eyes for a few seconds but rolled off the couch.

You followed him down the hall to the bedroom, but as Tyson beelined for his side of the bed, you ducked into his closet.

“What’re you doing?” you heard him ask as you pulled the extra blankets down from the shelf.

He was frowning at you when you stepped out of his closet, arms crossed as best he could, staring you and your pile of blankets down from where he was propped up on his mound of pillows. His apartment didn’t have a second bedroom, and you’d planned on sleeping on the couch now that you didn’t have to keep a a close eye on Tyson during the night. You weren’t sure you could survive another sleepless night lying next to him.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” he said, like he could read your mind. You didn’t answer, but that was answer enough. He pushed the blankets back and strode over to you. “Give,” he said, holding out his good hand.

“Tyson, I can’t-“ you started to protest, watching Tyson take one of the blankets and toss it on the bed, the other thrown back towards the closet.

“You’re not gonna sleep any better out on the couch than you did last night,” he said. He was starting to lead you towards the bed, hand hovering over the small of your back. “Fuckin’- I’ll sleep on the couch if you really can’t share a bed with me again, but I will lock you in here if I have to.”

You scrubbed a hand across your face. You were tired, far too exhausted to try and explain all the thoughts racing through your head. You weren't sure they even made sense to you. You sighed and unfolded the blanket that had landed on your pillows. Tyson, satisfied, went back to his side of the bed and settled back in. Neither of you spoke, and you were still awake, once again, long after Tyson’s breathing evened out.

Recovery was slow, to say the least. Tyson was stubborn, and stupid, and he seemed determined to take as few painkillers as possible, even when his head or his collarbone, or both, was killing him. A good morning led to a bad afternoon of him hiding in a dark room, because he’d tried to do too much. He was able to take his sling off for short periods, but he’d forget and reach for something with his right arm, only to double over in pain for a minute. You and Tyson snapped at each other—over small things usually—no less than five times a day.

You hated it, a little. You hated yourself for not being able to say no to Tyson, even now.

On top of it all, Tyson was trying. He seemed to know how unhappy you were, and he’d do his best to give you space in his too-small apartment. He’d apologize and do his best to pick up after himself, or to clean up after a meal, even when you rolled your eyes and told him to get out of the way.

It almost frustrated you more. You could handle fighting, you’d come in anticipating it. You wanted nothing more than to yell, sometimes, to see if you could push Tyson to his breaking point, to hurt him like he’d hurt you.

And then he’d look up at you with those big brown eyes and messy curls, and you knew you could never do that.

You left Tyson alone on Thursday morning to get groceries and came back to the apartment to find him sprawled across the couch.

“I’m bored,” he whined. As dramatic as ever.

“I don’t know what you want me to do about that, Tys,” you told him, making your way to the kitchen with the grocery bags.

Tyson tipped his head over the back of the couch to watch you. “Can I help?” he asked.

You scoffed. “Bud, you can only use one of your arms right now.”

Tyson pouted at you, still upside down. “But I wanna help,” he said. “I hate not being able to do anything,” he added.

Tyson didn’t do well with sitting still. He always had too much energy, bouncing around, talking to (read: bothering) everyone within hearing distance. He meant well, though, and you did feel bad for him. It was going to be a long time before he was back to himself.

“Get in here,” you told him with a sigh.

Tyson cheered and bounded off the couch. You tasked him with putting away anything that wasn’t heavy or breakable, which mostly ended up being things that went into the pantry, while you restocked the fridge and freezer. It went quickly with his help, though you noticed that he didn’t put anything on shelves that were above shoulder height.

“Why’d you buy so much food?” he commented, watching you stack food in the freezer. “I don’t eat that much.”

You could feel your face getting hot. “I was gonna make extra of some things and freeze them so you won’t have to cook as much,” you admitted. You stared at the empty grocery bags stacked on the counter instead of looking at Tyson.

He nudged you with his elbow, and you glanced up. Tyson grinned at you. It was the first real smile you’d seen out of him.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

You knew that. “Yeah, but I want to,” you told him. “It’s not a big deal.” Except it was, and you both knew that, too.

It all fell apart on Sunday night. You and Tyson had been living in a careful truce, walking a narrow line between pretending everything was fine and addressing everything that had happened between you two. You knew it wouldn’t last, was only a matter of time before your little bubble of peace popped, but you’d hoped it would at least last until the team was back in town and you didn’t have to be Tyson’s keeper anymore. One day you could meet in neutral territory and talk, not somewhere filled with memories of the two of you, in the days before Tyson changed everything.

You should’ve known that was too much to ask for.

You and Tyson were watching TV, the sound on low and the brightness dimmed. Tyson had been having a good day, and he’d begged you to watch something, so you’d opened up Netflix and started an episode of Great British Bake-off. Neither of you were paying particularly close attention, but it was nice background noise. You were busy texting JT and Gabe, and Tyson was dozing next to you, eyes half-closed, though it wasn’t that late. He kept listing sideways, into your space, before waking up and sitting up straight. On the fourth time he did it, you nudged him.

“Ready for bed?” you asked.

Tyson gave up and rested his head on your shoulder. “Maybe,” he admitted.

You nudged his head with your shoulder, gently. “You can,” you told him. “I’ll be in soon.”

You wanted to finish the episode you were on, even though you’d seen it already. Tyson huffed, but he sat up again. He didn’t move off the couch. He was looking at you intently, though you couldn’t read his face.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You were already looking at him, TV momentarily forgotten, but you said, “What?” anyway.

Tyson blinked, once, twice, and bit his lip, thinking hard about something. You were about to make a joke, tell him not to hurt himself, literally, when his left hand came up to cup your cheek and turn your head towards him. You opened your mouth to speak, but then Tyson’s mouth was on yours. You leaned into it for a second, the familiar way Tyson’s lips moved on yours, his hand warm on your cheek, the calluses on his thumb as it rubbed across your skin. Then you remembered. You put your hand on Tyson’s chest and pushed, too hard, you realized too late, too close to his broken collarbone.

Tyson reeled back, hand leaving your face to curl protectively over your chest. You missed the warmth of it immediately. He looked confused and hurt, like he couldn’t understand.

“What are you doing?” you asked. On TV, Paul Hollywood was critiquing someone’s bake.

Tyson looked wary now. “I thought-”

You cut him off with a humorless laugh. “You thought what, Tyson? That everything was fine? That because I came running when you called that I had just forgotten you’d broken my heart? That you could just kiss me and fix everything?”

Tyson frowned. “No, just…yeah, I guess I did, actually, I don’t know.” He was running the fingers of his left hand absently over his collarbone still.

You wished you could storm out, grab your keys and slam the door and never see Tyson Jost again. You couldn’t, though, because you’d feel guilty for leaving him alone, and you’d come back again, even if you would hate yourself for it later. That was the problem. You did still care about Tyson, and everything wasn’t fine and nothing was forgotten, but you were sleeping in bed next to him and pretending, if even for a little while, that you could do this.

“I should never have answered the fucking phone when Scott called me,” you said. You turned the TV off, threw the remote onto the couch as you stood up, trying to put as much space between you and Tyson as possible. Tyson flinched.

“Then why did you?” Tyson was angry now, too.

“Because I still fucking love you, dumbass!” you yelled. Tyson closed his eyes. “Because I’m the idiot who can’t get over the boy who threw away over a year of dating like it was nothing, like my love was a distraction.” You were throwing Tyson’s own words back in his face.

“I didn’t think,” Tyson started.

“No, you didn’t, Tyson. You never do.”

Tyson stood up and squared you off. “And how about how I feel, huh? I wake up on the ice, everything hurts, and my first fucking thought is of you. Not my mom, not the game, you. Don’t say it was nothing for me.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that?” you asked. “You never called, didn’t text.”

“Neither did you!” Tyson retorted, which.

“You told me you wanted a break! I was leaving you alone like you wanted,” you said.

Tyson rolled his eyes. “I was hoping I could show you that I still cared about you.”

“You’re a big boy, Tyson, you can use your words.”

Tyson glared at you. “And when were you gonna say something?”

That was the second time he’d fallen back on that weak argument. “Oh, sure, lemme just tell my concussed ex that I still love him, I’m sure that would’ve gone well.” You crossed your arms and glared back at Tyson.

“Fuck this, I’m going to bed,” he said, turning and heading down the hall.

You watched him go, but before he could close the bedroom door, you called, “You’re a coward, Jost.”

He’d run from your relationship, he’d avoided ever trying to talk to you, and, now, he was refusing to even take blame for ruining it all. Tyson paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I know,” he said, so softly you barely heard it. The door closed with a quiet click.

You sat on the couch and cried. You didn’t sleep well that night.

The smell of coffee woke you in the morning. You laid still for a moment, listening to the sounds of Tyson bustling around his kitchen. He was whistling softly, off-tune. You stretched and sat up, looking over the back of the couch towards the kitchen. Tyson glanced up and smiled at you, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He had dark circles under his eyes that probably matched your own. You smiled weakly back at him.

“Mornin,’” he said. “I made coffee.”

Was this how it was going to be? Back to pretending nothing had happened, no breakup, no fight?

Tyson still remembered how you took your coffee, you noted, as you took the mug he offered you. Neither of you spoke for a few long minutes as you sipped your coffee. Tyson was scrolling through his phone, and you stared out the living room windows that overlooked Denver.

“Do you want breakfast?” you asked finally. You set your mug down. It sounded loud in the quiet apartment.

“Yeah, sure,” Tyson said, not looking up from his phone.

You went through the motions of making breakfast in silence. Tyson set his phone down and cleared his throat when you slid a plate of eggs in front of him, but he didn’t say anything. The only sound was the scraping of your forks. You pushed your plate away, food half-eaten.

“I think I’m gonna leave,” you said.

Tyson startled, but he didn’t look surprised. “I- I think that’s for the best,” he agreed.

You weren’t sure that was better or worse than him putting up a fight.

You left the kitchen to gather your things, scattered across the apartment in the days you’d been staying there. Tyson didn’t follow you, though you could feel his eyes on you every time you passed through. Before long, everything was tossed haphazardly back into your suitcase. You rolled it from the bedroom and into the entryway. Tyson was still sitting at the kitchen island.

“Bye, then,” you said awkwardly. You didn’t know what else there was to say.

Tyson sighed. “I’ll see you around?”

“I don’t know, Tyson,” you said honestly.

It was your turn to close the door on Tyson.

You texted JT and asked him to pick up Tyson to bring back to the trainers in the morning. He didn’t respond, but you knew he had a game later. You didn’t offer any explanation; this was Tyson’s mess to clean up.

You drove home. You did your laundry. You had been able to make do with work from your laptop and Tyson’s wifi, but you were looking forward to heading in in the morning, to seeing someone other than Tyson. You didn’t think about the hurt on Tyson’s face when you pushed him away, or the way his voice shook after you’d called him a coward.

You didn’t. Mostly.

Gabe called in the morning while you were getting ready for work. You wondered what he heard, what JT had said, or what Tyson had told him. You let it ring through to voicemail, but you didn’t listen to it. You weren’t sure you could handle Gabe’s concern.

When Tyson had broken up with you, no one on the team had reached out to you. You’d been close to some of the guys, but you’d been met with radio silence on all sides. You didn’t dare reach out yourself. You didn’t know what reasoning Tyson had given them for the breakup, if he was telling the truth, or if he was painting you as the bitch. Other than Gabe, your phone didn’t ring this time either. It almost hurt worse. You’d spent all week texting them with updates on Tyson, but they’d all seemed to be folding you back into the group, sending you stupid videos of Nate and Burky arguing over something, or a meme JT had seen at 1 AM and just had to show you.

It was Cale Makar who showed up at your apartment door first, over a week since the fight you’d had with Tyson. He knocked, and you could see him through your peephole, standing awkwardly with something in his hands.

You pulled the door open. “What are you doing here, Cale?” you asked. It came out more tired than harsh.

Cale looked sheepish, but then again, that seemed to be his default. “Tyson asked me to drop this off,” he said, holding out the thing in his hand. You raised an eyebrow at him. “He said you left it at his place when you, uh, stayed over.”

You took it from Cale. It was one of your T-shirts. You hadn’t even realized it was missing.

“Thanks, Cale,” you said. You forced a smile. He’d shoved his hands in his pockets, but he hadn’t made to leave. “What’s up?” you asked.

Cale shook his head. “It’s none of my business,” he said.

“You’re right, it’s not.” Cale winced. But you were curious. “What did he tell you?”

Cale shifted uncomfortably. “He won’t say much, usually claims he has a headache if anyone tries to push him,” he said. You both rolled your eyes. “He just says that he fucked up, mostly.”

You nodded. Cale turned to leave. “Hey, Cale,” you called. He turned. “Thanks.”

Cale’s brow furrowed. “You said that already.”

“I know,” you said. “I’m saying it again.”

“Goodnight,” Cale told you. You watched him head down the stairs before you closed your door again.

You unfolded the T-shirt and held it up to your face, taking a deep breath. Tyson had washed it, and it smelled like his detergent, like him. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor, covered in Tyson’s familiar chicken scratch. You picked it up.

I understand if you don’t want to see me again. I want to talk, if I haven’t fucked things up too badly. Give me a third chance? Cherry Creek Park on Friday? 2 PM. You know where I’ll be.

Cherry Creek Park had always been your favorite place to go for walks together when the weather wasn’t terrible. You didn’t think you’d been since Tyson had broken up with you. Friday was still two days away, which left you plenty of time to decide if you were going to meet Tyson. (You were, but you could at least pretend to debate with yourself about it.)

On Friday, you found Tyson at the trailhead across the street from the shopping center, right where he said he would be. He was still wearing his sling, jacket draped over his right arm and his left arm shoved deep in the pocket. He didn��t see you as you approached, because he was gazing out towards the water.

“Hey,” you said once you got closer. The wind stole your words, but Tyson turned to look at you.

He broke into a grin. “Hey,” he echoed.

“How’s the head?” you asked, carefully neutral.

“Still concussed,” Tyson said. He looked better, though, eyes brighter than they’d been the last time you’d seen him. “The trainers still won’t clear me to drive, and I can’t really work out that much because of this fucking thing,” he gestured with the arm in the sling, “so I’m mostly just fucking bored.”

“Tyson,” you said.

“Hm?”

“How did you get here if you can’t drive?” His apartment wasn’t terribly far, but it wasn’t exactly close enough to walk, either.

“Oh, I made Cale drive me,” he said. You wondered if Cale was regretting living in the same building as Tyson yet. “I’m gonna owe him so many favors,” he added. You laughed, and for a moment, you could forget about everything. Tyson’s face got serious. “Wanna walk?”

“Yeah,” you said.

Tyson turned and started down the trail, and you fell into step beside him. In the spring and fall, walking along the creek was pretty, but now in the dead of winter, everything was dry and brown. There was old snow melting on the banks still, and the water was frozen in places. Muddy and bleak.

You hoped, stupidly, that your future with Tyson wasn’t as dreary as your view.

“I really wasn’t sure you’d come,” Tyson said after a few minutes.

You lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Yeah, well,” you said, “I’m here.”

You didn’t want to admit how little hesitation you’d had in coming today. You both fell silent again. The trail was mostly empty besides you two, even though the late January was clear and blue.

“I’m sorry,” Tyson blurted.

You raised an eyebrow at him, looked at him sidelong. He was staring resolutely at the sidewalk in front of you.

“What exactly are you apologizing for, Tyson?” you asked.

“I don’t know, all of it?” he said. “Breaking up with you, not calling, making you take care of me, being an idiot, do I have to keep going?”

“Sure, why not,” you laughed. “You can probably come up with more.”

Tyson pouted at you. “Hey, I’m really trying here, be nice to me.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said. “And I am sorry, too. I said some cruel things that night.” The word coward still rang in your ears at night, and Tyson’s I know before he closed the door.

“Nah, you were right,” Tyson said. “I was dumb, and scared, and it wasn’t fair to blame you for not calling when you couldn’t know I was missing you.”

That was more of an apology than you’d been expecting out of Tyson, to be honest. Hockey players had never really been known for being articulate.

You walked a few more steps before you responded. “Tyson, I don’t know if this is something that can be fixed with one little apology,” you said. “A breakup is hard enough when you can convince yourself that you just weren’t good enough, but being told that being in love with you is nothing more than a distraction? I don’t know how I’m supposed to get over that.”

Tyson swallowed hard next to you. “I know,” he said softly. “I know, but I just couldn’t handle not telling you the truth anymore. You could block my phone number after today for all I care, but at least I got to talk to you.”

Tyson was walking on your right, his free arm swinging between you. You carefully took his hand and laced your fingers together. Tyson froze for a moment, his hand tense in yours, as his eyes searched your face. For what, you didn’t know, but he must have found what he was looking for, because he relaxed.

“So, what next?” you asked.

Tyson laughed. You missed hearing his laugh. “I think that’s up to you,” he said.

“Dinner?”

Tyson shook his head. “We have a game tonight, they’re letting me sit up in the press box for it.” You made a face at him. “Tomorrow?”

“Hmm, I guess,” you teased. It was cold out, and Tyson’s fingers were like ice in yours. “Wanna head back?” you asked.

“Yeah, lemme just text Cale,” Tyson said.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tys,” you told him.

“How do I know you’re not gonna, like, drive me out to the mountains and leave me or something?” Tyson asked.

“Oh my god,” you said, “get in the fucking car, Jost.”

Tyson was still laughing when you closed the passenger door on him.

You picked Tyson up the next night for dinner. You didn’t go anywhere fancy, and the casualness of the restaurant definitely helped diffuse the tension and awkwardness that still lingered between you. You caught Tyson up on all the months he’d missed, your work, your family, and he did the same. He admitted that Kacey hadn’t spoken to him for two weeks after she found out he’d broken up with you. You made him laugh so hard at one point he nearly made water come out of his nose.

“Can I kiss you?” Tyson asked when you dropped him off at his apartment. He had invited you in, but you hadn’t made it far, standing awkwardly in the entryway.

“Come here,” you said, hooking a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in.

It was May. You were hanging around Tyson’s apartment killing time while he packed up. The season was over, and Tyson had been stalling his return to Alberta for as long as possible, but his family wouldn’t stop bugging him about coming home. The apartment felt empty already, even though most of Tyson’s stuff would be staying.

“Hey, Tys,” you said.

Tyson dropped a suitcase full of clothes by the front door. “What’s up?”

“I love you,” you said. It was the first time you’d said it since you and Tyson had gotten back together.

“Oh, thank God,” Tyson said. He launched himself at the couch and jumped on it, narrowly avoiding landing on you.

“Tyson!”

“I mean, I love you, too, obviously,” he said. He was leaning over you, braced on the back of the couch. He brushed his nose against yours, then your cheek, before pressing a kiss there. “I thought I would never hear you say it again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

“I can do that,” Tyson said, and then he was, letting you tangle your hand in his curls. “I love you,” he murmured against your lips.

“Good,” you whispered back.

#cait writes things #tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #colorado avalanche fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

715 notes · View notes

apixrl · 3 years

Text

DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.

#katsuki bakugō #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #anime x reader #anime #x reader #angst #katsuki bakugou x female reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugou

160 notes · View notes

kyunsies · 3 years

Note

Hello Mädch ahsdjaksdh <3 !!

how is college going? dw, I hope you are settling in super well and feeling optimistic about school and all the amazing things I know you are going to achieve this year! I am excited that you are starting your rotations now! you are going to do awesome, I know it! I'm sorry that you didn't get that ICU first like you wanted but hopefully it's all part of the plan so that you get it at the right time for you <3 let me know how they go, of course. I hope they go super well.

the week has been a bit weird to be honest, in my team I had a semi argument that was properly tense for the first time with someone and it was just so unpleasant. you know those people where they aren't horrible but you know that you'll never completely see eye to eye with them? i think it's just one of those things, where we'll never just completely read each other or get each other? and it's not, like, a massive issue or anything that we can't deal with, but I feel like usually I get on really well with people or not at all (all or nothing person I guess haha) but with this person I've just got to admit that we're always going to be a bit in the middle? like, we talked it over, and I've still found sometimes we misunderstand one another? so things are still good in work and clients, but with workpeople it has been the more difficult battle? hopefully we should get some more cool media stuff with the K-pop people soon, so that's an up?

OMGsh your coworkers are so much older than you! [lease do post a picture of your room, I am 100% confident that you have made it so dreamy and pretty. Thank you sm for telling me more about these operations though! I feel like everywhere is on red alert at the moment when it comes to health and care and making sure that people look after themselves and not put others at risk, you know? the doctors that to talk to me about my potential surgeries too have said the same but it's nice hearing it from a friend, you know? so thank youuuu <3 <3

I was the same as you, I would get so so so anxious and stressed if I wasn't studying or working or anything like that? but my mum is like your mum and grandma, where she gets up early too! but I feel like I need to do the late night thing instead? but then once I got into this crazy spiral where I would wake up really early and go to bed really late and like nap in between so I ended up like having two hours of sleep either side? that was peak wth at the time haha XD so now I try and let myself wake up a bit later really XD ha ha I'm in barely adulting! like I work so much but I don't earn a lot ha ha – I don't think that's very effective adulting? or like, I don't know I guess for a lot of people my age there's a work hard and hope it pays off thing in certain industries? so you're definitely more effectively adulting than me right now! like, you're going to do stuff that's gonna actively help people and you'll see that right in front of you, you know!!? sometimes my work gets out there but I rarely see directly if it gets to make peoples lives better you know? so the path you're on is so so admirable <3 <3 <3

I get you though, do you find that you thrive under the pressure even though it's sometimes a lot? I find that sometimes it does help me, but sometimes I forget to identify the times when it isn't helping me? or, sometimes I take it too far? so please look out for yourself and take care of yourself <3 and when you're worried if you're on the edge know that it's enough for you to take a rest and not be super perfect. i sometimes tell myself to except that I'm probably gonna make two or three stupid mistakes a day? It sounds kind of silly but it means that it makes it easier for me to accept when I mess up, idk, I think it helps me balance the pressure sometimes? i 100% understand what you're saying - at school do they have people that can directly help? or like peer supporters so it's not as stressful or official feeling as a therapist? if you ever want me to come off anon to help lemme know <3 i'm always here for you <3

oh my gosh your grandparents have been able to live long too! all my grandparents lived close to 100 before passing, and one of my grandmothers had the same as your grandfather. he sounds so sweet and so kind though! i love that he knows how to FaceTime you! Some of my aunts and uncles still don't properly haha. it sounds like he knows that he's super loved though, he's very lucky <3 <3 i've been thinking about all this really lovely stuff and how it grounds you when stuff like careers can stress you out and feel like the most important thing when it shouldn't be? what are the personality differences between the different areas of the US? my East Coast friends seem to straight talk a lot more than my West Coast friends? like they're a lot more realistic as opposed to being, I don't know laid-back or if not laid-back sometimes just more comfortable with superficial stuff? Not like my West Coast friends are superficial people, but I think they accept it as part of the world a bit better? my friends on the east coast will rail against that stuff a lot more, like they buy into the influencer bullshit less? but I guess these are all sweeping generalisations anyway... I might have to travel a bit in europe soon... I got asked to go to otaly for some work today, and to holland next month. Idk if it will end up happening though, things change all the time? I have to keep checking quarantine rules all the time with countries! but YAY and YES Europe tour trip one day :D !!!!!!!

you know what? when I first saw you compare bowling and golf I was like, wait, what? but now I totally get it! i know a golfer and they talk about how physical and strenuous it is on the arms and stuff all the time which I don't think always comes across when you watch it and it makes a lot of sense with how you describe how you trained for bowling! i used to cox in rowing and I always used to find it really funny that I said that was the sport I did because honestly I just sat in the boat all the time and steered XD

obligatory YES WTF ARE COTTON SCENTS! quite a few shops in the city where I live have been closing down because of Covid but our Jo Malone is still going strong! I love that lots of already classic clothing shops have now gone out of business but for some reason the people where I live cannot live without their perfume XD I think I'm gonna go in later this week or next week to take a look! with all this travelling I kind of want to buy something new? also, my hands have been acting up with injury so I have to rest my hands more anyway – so might as well look for perfume right? do you have any recommendations or would the blueberry one you've just gotten be at the top of your list?

the exciting thing is that I'm doing a bit less this week! I need to wait and see if that job wants me to fly out to Italy within the next 48 hours, if not next week, but if not I think I'm gonna figure out how to rehabilitate my joints a bit and get my brain okay? It's been existential Covid crisis week haha - I think a lot of me and my friends have been feeling like we've lost so much of our lives and potential during this time and I've really tried to hold in and ignore it for the past 18 months? i'm not one to ever feel lonely or to really really want to be in a relationship like some of my friends, but I've just been feeling it this week? like, I love my independence, but I wouldn't say no to a boyfriend right now you know? I feel silly saying that sometimes because I'm so against feeling like you have to have someone in your life to be okay, but I guess that's just a result of how the world is has been recently?? but I think all my feelings exploded around this stuff now so, I am trying to get back into a better place? so it's not as exciting as some of the stuff I've told you about before, but it's what's up I guess?

how are your mum and grandmother doing? are they doing good? [lease send all my love to them too. I'm glad these help you reflect on your week! they do with me too and I'm always happy to hear from you, no matter how long you might need <3 <3 hope you manage to reward yourself for working so hard these past days and that you remember you're always doing 110% so you deserve the best!

love you lots and lots - 💥

ANGEL HELLO !!!!!!!!! i told myself i would stay on top of this and swear in a timely manner but ;_____; a full week + 2 clinical rotations later here i am on a sunday, it seems this is always the case :( maybe my get back to you day will only be on sundays LOL i will try my best in the future babe, but ofc thank you so much for being patient with me <3

uni is going fine so far hun !!!! i've started clinical rotations as i've said on thursday and friday, and then my first exam is on tuesday so i read some chapters yesterday so i'm not squished for time lol :) and ,,,, what you said "hope it's all part of the plan" is very much my way of thinking lol wha is your sign? i'm a sagittarius and that's like, a philosophy i go by like everything is how it's supposed to be even if it's not what u want like everything will work itself out :') i'm wondering if we are one in the same !!!!! <3

and omg ;_____; conflict within the workplace is NEVER easy bc all everyone wants is to reach the goal you all are reaching and bc there's some bumps in the road it makes everything that much more stressful :( and i know exactly the type of person you are talking about LOL i've had to work with some of my peers in the hospital who really didn't treat me all that nicely , but i still have to partner up with them anyways bc we had to move a patient lol ; like they never do anything terrible to you but you just cannot come to a proper agreement with them? i know the feeling :( but i can tell you are doing ur absolute best ;_____; it's a tough situation ,,,,,,,,, but may i propose something ??? maybe since things are high stress in the workplace, would u be willing to meet them outside the workplace, like a quick coffee meet up and then discuss those issues? maybe talking about it in the work environment is way too stressful for both of u and it is hard to come to an agreement, but maybe in a calmer, more informal setting do u think maybe the both of u could be like "hey, what u were talking about i'm not really head over heels for but this is what i think and do u think we can do something where both of us will be happy?" im thinking maybe will opening up a means for more civilized discussion?? just a thought LOL :') let me know how it goes :( i hope u are all able to figure everything out !!!!!

about the surgeries !!!!! like i said i know it's super stressful to think about bc this is one of the very few times in life where things are absolutely out of our control and that scares us, and we as medical providers aren't supposed to give u a false sense of security, but i promise u everything will be just fine as long as u correctly follow up with care post-op :) we wouldn't want an infection !!!! >;( i remember last year i had a patient and she was going in for a routine colonoscopy and she was scared shitless ,,,,,,, but i was like "listen ma'am i know it can seem scary but i was just in there with the doctors and everything is super relaxed and they know what they're doing in there, you'll be out in no time and i'll be here waiting !!" and that seemed to help her a lot, after the surgery she was on me like flies on shit LOL she was like "THANK U HONEY" (but i think most of it was bc she was still drugged up hhh)

LOL us with our family members waking up early <3 literally this morning i decided to do my laundry at 8am (its only 10 right right now lol) but idk it just make u feel a little bit better doesn't it? but oh my gosh no i don't see u in this way at all ;_____; babe like you're already THERE in the world working and to me like ,,,,,, being an effective functioning person in society is like all i ever want i just want to be COMPETENT and the fact that u manage ppl ???? it's already a lot of responsibility but you do it everyday like you go to work u make food for yourself u pay bills like yes this all kinda sucks but you're there doing it and idk ,,,,,,,, like u being in this position is like yeah their surviving in the world and doing okay !!!! so that’s how i see u hun ;_____;

and i don’t think i necessarily thrive under pressure but i just kinda ,,,,,,, handle it?? like i think i handle my stress quite well !!! i think the reason why making mistakes scares me so much in my field is bc if i make a mistake i can like, kill someone or seriously harm them if i do something wrong SLKDFJ but i have to remember i’m still just a student and a lot of the things that i’ll learn won’t even be in these last few months of nursing school, but rather during my months of orientation on the floor i’ll be working on when i finally land a job ,,,,,, i know i just have to be patient and kind to myself, but it’s hard not having these high expectations for myself bc everyone else pushes themselves super hard (nurses i mean) so i feel like i should be too , ya know? ;_____; it’s a hard balance that i’ve yet to find but hopefully once i graduate i’ll have just a little bit more confidence in myself :’)

and omg your grandparents lived a long life as well !!!!!!!! a lot of my friends’ grandparents are really young still, so it’s hard for others to relate i think LOL but :(((( i’m really lucky to have them around still and like, i feel like my grandparents are the cornerstone of our whole entire family; once they pass i’m not quite sure what will happen ;_____; so i’m just trying to cherish every moment that i have with them even tho sometimes it’s stressful lol ; also BOUT THE DIFFERENCES FROM EAST TO WEST COAST LOL ; i think u described it really well actually :) like among the friends u have the are from different parts of the states, it’s very accurate in my opinion !! and again after all it is just a very broad assumption, in general east coasters have this “workaholic” attitude, they tend to be very realistic which i actually appreciate a lot lol, i’m hoping to live near the east coast when i move out <3 now where i am from it is considered the midwest even tho it’s more east than west if u look at it on the map LMAO and like, it’s really funny bc if u say to someone you’re from the midwest they’ll tell u our reputation is being “too nice” LSKDLFJSKLD and like that’s our thing, a happy medium between coasts with big cities but small towns too and generally just very chill and nice ,,,,,,,, the south of the US is also known for having that “southern hospitality” overall very cheerful ppl with personality and super kind attitude on life :) now the west of the US i’m not saying there aren’t nice ppl out there bc there are LOL but esp near lost angeles or hollywood ofc you’re going to have ppl very stuck up bc ya know they made it to big bad LA and they want to be trendy with all of the fake health shit (celery juice does NOTHING FOR U sorry lol) generally my view of the west is just very fake and i would never want to have my family grow up there LMAO but that generally like, california and washington but like, utah or wyoming or colorado are just absolutely gorgeous and they have small town ppl there bc there are a lot of ranches there ,,,,,,,, does any of this make sense to u ??? KLASFJ

i’m going to skip a few paragraphs bc this is so long already LMAO but trust me i’ve read everything so far lol ; it seems like you’re doing a lot of traveling !!!!!! <3 i’m so jealous !!!!!!!! italy sounds so beautiful i would love love to go some day :( ALSO U SMELLED THE BLUEBELL PERFUME RIGHT ???? U LIKED IT ?????? doesn’t it smell absolutely divine??? no matter how many scents i smelled after that i knew it was the right one for me ldkfsdlkfj <3 i’m still so in love with it ;____; also about ur lil rant about feeling lonesome :( bub i can really relate to this and i feel the same way like my mom and the rest of my family never pushed me to meet anyone and i’ve always never had a problem making friends, but like, as i’m older and i realize i’ll be alone a lot more of my time once i graduate like i really do want to share my life with someone :( i have a lot of love and i want to be able to show it to someone i care about a lot but i just never really take the initiative to do that bc quite honestly i’m not confident in myself lMAO so ,,,,,,, i know we never feel like we need to be dependent on someone but sharing experiences with someone who feels very strongly for u seems nice, doesn’t it? i wish this for both of us really soon okay?? <3 i tell my friends i would LOVE to be engaged right now lskdjfslfjs :’)

but anyways !!!!!!!! my mom and the rest of my family is doing well <3 and i’m doing okay too !!!!!! i don’t want to bore u with how clinicals are going but if u want me to tell u just let me know LOL and angel i know i say it all the time but always thank u so much for being patient with me okay? u are the absolute best !!!!!! also as promised, here are a few pics of my dorm room LOL it’s a shoebox but it’s my shoebox :) enjoy !!!!!!

#asks #💥 anon #my dorm is the oldest one on campus so :’) it looks a little ugly but I try my best MXJDJD #ignore the popcorn bag on the side :)#also peep the jo malone perfume LOL

0 notes