Chapter Text
“As usual?”
“Thanks darling.”
By now you got it perfectly trained. That smile you put up for your customers, especially the ones that come to your little coffee shop as regulars.
Sweet. Innocent. Charming.
A smile paired with a voice pitched like it was made to sing lullabies or take the weight of a man’s shoulders with ease.
Maybe that’s why they liked you so much.
But what none of them knew, was that it was just a mask you had to put up to hide the truth that waited for you every time you ended your shift and needed to go back. Needed to go to the place you once called a home.
A place that was once filled with love, until your so called boyfriend decided that he needed to share your bed with another woman. Your best friend, to be precise.
The fact that you packed his bags for him and changed the locks didn’t stop him from texting you almost constantly and calling you every night. At the beginning, you replied and answered his calls, thinking that one day, he might just stop.
But at the end, it only made things worse. Apologies quickly turned into insults. “Love” quickly turned into “whore”. “I want you back” quickly turned into “You’re not even worth the dirt you’re walking on”. Calls turned into late night visits.
Your work became your safe space. Always surrounded by others, you knew he would keep his distance and just blow your phone up while you kept yourself distracted until you finally arrived at home and he could return to his usual schedule of creating nightmares.
Nightmares that would stop one day, just like they usually do. “One day, it will stop.” You kept telling yourself over and over again. For days. For weeks. For months. But it didn’t stop.
It became a routine by now. Walking through the streets at night to clear his mind before he needed to be focused again the next day, just after he picked up his coffee from the shop around the corner each morning. It was more convenient to pick one up on the way to the base rather than brewing one every day by himself. That smile of yours just gave him one more reason to keep doing it. You were younger, he suggested somewhere in your late 20’s. But it didn’t stop him from coming over and over again, just to see your pretty face each morning.
“Morning John. As usual?”
“Yes, doll. Thank you.” Fuck, the way you spoke his name. The way your lips curled up into that beautiful smile the second he stepped into the small shop. He wondered if it was just the way you talked to customers or if it was only for him. It made him wonder what his name sounded like from your lips when you moaned it. Made him wonder what else this pretty little mouth would be capable of.
Focus, John.
He chose a different path today. Not the one through the park, making it possible for him to take a moment on that small hill and see the base in the distance, his duty almost already calling for him again. He chose to walk the same path he would in the morning to open that door and get his coffee out of your delicate fingers.
It was late, so it surprised him to see anyone in the streets. But what surprised him even more, was that it was someone crying. Crouching down next to the entrance to the coffee shop on all fours, quietly sobbing while your beautiful face looked like it took some punches not long ago.
Focus, John.
His pace quickened until he reached you, coming down on one knee to your level, carefully, slowly placing his hand on your back, making sure not to scare you. “Y/N, right?” Two words, all it took to wipe away the fear that consumed your mind just seconds ago. Two words to let you know that it was him who approached you in your darkest moment.
Quickly wiping your tears away you just waved your hand, keeping your eyes locked on the concrete. “I’m fine. Thank you.” You didn’t even looked at him when your shaking voice betrayed you, told him that you were not fine at all.
“Come on, you shouldn’t be crying on the floor like that.” Carefully he took your arm and lifted you up on your feet, turning your body towards him. His hand touched your chin, lifting it up and forcing you to look into his eyes as his thumb almost brushed over your lips. “Let me take a look at that.”
He wasn’t wearing his uniform but you immediately recognized that stupid hat that made him look like he was about to go fishing, but always managed to make you smile. “John, if I remember correctly.” he was older, that’s for sure. But that only gave him more of that protective aura, the one that made you believe that, at the end of the day, there would be real men out there who knew how to treat a woman right.
A simple nod was the only answer he gave you. No questions about what got you in this miserable situation, too mesmerized by the way you looked at him with those eyes, your cheeks covered with that pink hue and your lips full and plump.
“This needs to be cleaned.” his voice was soft, caring. The kind of voice you would choose for someone you really cared for. “Let me take care of this.”
You reached out for his wrist, gently curling your delicate fingers around it as you took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” he could hear the pain in your voice, though it was nothing more than a whisper.
Focus, John.
“Y/N…” the way he said your name made your skin crawl. Shit, was he always that attractive or was is just the way the street light was hitting his face just in the right spots? Or was it just because it felt like he saved you? I didn’t matter at this point. The way he held you, cared about you, despite only knowing your name and where you worked made you trust him enough to follow him towards his apartment.
Tossing the keys into a small bowl and his hat right besides it next to the door, he stepped inside, holding the door open for you to enter the apartment before he softly closed it behind you. He walked behind you, his movements slow and calculated to keep you calm, his hand gently searching for your back again and slowly pushing you into the living room. “Sit down, I’ll be right back.”
You watched him leaving the living room down the small hallway and into another room that looked like the bathroom as you sat down on the couch. Giving you a second to take a look at your surroundings, you felt save, safer than you felt at home, despite the lack of personal belongings that could tell you more about the man who took you home.
You remembered the first day he came into the shop, ordering a black coffee. Her looked tired, exhausted to be more precisely. Yet he managed to smile at you as he placed his order and called you doll. After he didn’t came back for a while, you thought he was just one of the other strangers, coincidentally stumbling over the coffee shop, suddenly craving some caffeine to keep them awake. To keep them focused.
But after a few weeks he came back and became a regular, greeting you every day with a friendly smile.
His jaw clenched and his knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip around the sink.
Focus John.
She needs your help.
He could see it in the reflection of his own eyes. The need. The hunger.
Focus John.
You need her.
He could feel it in his lower body. The ache to treat you the way you deserved it.
Focus. John.
She needs you.
You heard the bathroom door being closed behind him as he slowly walked back towards you, a small pouch in his hands. As soon as he reached the couch, he got down on one knee again, placing the pouch with some medical supplies right next to you.
He looked at your face, his left hand carefully cupping your cheek as his thumb brushed over the small cut on your skin. “This could hurt a bit.” Without leaving your eyes with his, he reached over, poured some clear liquid over a cotton cloth and gently cleaned your face.
Your eyes locked with his, captivating you with those blue irises that acted as a shield against everything that was happening outside of those four walls. “Been through worse.” you whispered, aware that nothing could compare to the pain you’ve gone trough the last weeks. But the second he touched your skin you flinched, your hand reaching out for his thigh.
“Sorry.” Your cheeks flushed red again, but you kept your hand on his thigh, slightly loosening your grip. “Don’t worry.” he placed his hand on yours, his left hand still not leaving your face. “I’m glad I found you.”
Focus, John.
“John…” Fuck. The way you whispered his name. The way you looked at him. The way you brushed your hand over his thigh.
Foc… fuck that!