paring: Hendrick Easterman x Irene Easterman (or possible self insert since her name isn’t mentioned)
warnings: angst, suggested drug usage, slight mentions of Hendrick’s mother
announcements: hey guys guess who couldn’t wait to post this 🦭
the strong oak front door closed softly at 10:03 PM. nights were always late now he was slowly losing himself or finding the true version of who he was striving to become. his tired bones ached, his head slightly throbbed from the drugs he started taking. just please don’t let her notice.
a soft calling of his name pulled him from his cloudy mind space.
she called again gently. that kind of tone he relished in the rare occasions she used it these days. did she ever really mean it? was their marriage ever really loving and kind? his brow furrowed as she sat up from the couch her nightgown was of a silky texture and looked like water rippling off her body. he met her eyes silently praying his pupils were somewhat of a normal size and not blown out in ecstasy. her manicured hands found his face. they were not frigid but almost a delightful kind of cold that slowed his heart rate and breathing on the days he felt her loving touch instead of her ice cold hatred.
her voice was almost a coo, something gentle like he was an innocent infant once more. his eyes closed he felt like crying. his brain was fried with the drugs he snorted earlier, he was becoming less stable. his brain and body moved in unison on autopilot when he snapped back to reality he was standing in the bathroom with his love, staring at himself in the mirror as the tub ran. her gentle fingertips found his shoulders as she undressed him. almost savoring her husband in a way she had not in so long. hendrick let this happen he helped her slowly take his suit off. her hands trailed over his boney chest. hes always been a lanky man but he’s lost weight recently and now she’s noticed. however, her mouth remained free of lectures for tonight.
he slowly sunk into the tub filled with warm water. he felt young again. he felt like he was being cared for by his mother once more. part of him felt empty in that moment, an ache that hasn’t left since he was a child.
her voice was soft, a subtle emphasis on poor. her hands ran over his pale boney shoulders with a washcloth. he stared blankly at the wall. the soap smelt like her and his head spun slightly. he hasn’t been close enough to his wife lately to smell her soap. he looked over at her as she ran the warm rag down his back feeling the bumps in his spine. she was so pretty. out of his league and he knew that, he’s known that since they were in their puppy love stage. he yearned for that once more. his lip quivered but she didn’t notice.
“you’re never home anymore, henry”
her voice was almost exasperated but her tone was still impossibly gentle, like a mother scolding a child she knew deep down she couldn’t stay mad at. the difference is, she was mad at him. lately, deep down, she’s always been mad at him. maybe she never loved him. maybe the marriage was rushed. she thought about these things when it was 1 AM and he still wasn’t home. she didn’t care if he was seeing another woman.
his brow furrowed slightly as he was brought back to reality once more.
was all he could manage. his brain was too fuzzy all the feelings were too complicated and deep right now.
the words were empty. he knew deep down he didn’t feel that way but he needed to put up a front. he needed to feel like he was capable of loving the woman he married. all she could do was hum in response as she brushed his thin, wet hair back with her hand.
she said softly as she continued to wash him. she did, right now she did have him. right now the hatred wasn’t so strong. right now he could pretend to be sober, normal.
