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You closed your eyes shut the moment you heard the door open. After so many sleepless hours he had finally arrived back home. Your body went stiff when the footsteps stopped next to you and it took all of your strength to not look up and see him eye to eye.
It had been days since he went off to one of his missions. One that took longer than you thought would take. You waited each night for him despite how mad you were with him for not telling you a single detail about his leave. You’d sit by the fire and watch the snow fall through the window, reading, knitting- doing the smallest of tasks in attempt to get your mind off him. Of course, that never worked. And even if there were people wandering around the homestead, you couldn’t feel lonelier. Achilles had tried to distract you with small talk, scolded you for not having a proper meal or rest. Your response was either a dismissive smile or tired sigh. He didn't try with you anymore after the fourth day.
You questioned yourself so many times, was this the life you’d grown used to? Falling in love with a man who couldn’t take the time to be with you and leave whenever he wished? He had warned you that his work in the brotherhood was top priority. But never did you stop to think it would be this bad.
Your friends no longer spoke or wrote to you after moving in with him. Not after they found out who your lover was. And they begged you to rethink your decision.
He’s a murderer.
He’ll hurt you.
Is this what he calls love?
In the end, however, you would just shake your head.
You silently opened your eyes and looked down to his wet boots. Bits of snow were melting on the wooden floorboards, small puddles trailing behind him. There was a sting to your eyes when all you could hear was his breathing. It felt like an eternity laying there, averting your vision from his face. It was as if he was waiting for you to speak.
You couldn’t stop the tear that streamed down your cheek. You thought you’d be ready to talk to him, yet you were too busy choking back the sobs. You had nothing to say to him.
As soon as you saw him getting down to his knees you silently turned the other way.
“(y/n)?”
When the tears wouldn’t stop, you shut your eyes once more. You wanted to be in his arms so bad and just forget everything and everyone. The only thing that would matter was that he was holding you near him.
“(y/n),” he called again, this time louder. “Talk to me.”
But why bother, you thought. Why hold me when you’ll be gone the very next day?
You sniffed and slowly wiped your tears before laying on your back. You knew he was looking at you with those scared and worried eyes. Brown orbs that would be pleading for your forgiveness. Yet his silence was enough to shatter both soul and heart.
All you could do was whisper. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”
When it was said and done you turned to look at him, a final tear escaping your tired eyes. After years together, his answer never changed. Pure, agonizing silence.