HOLIDAYS WERE THE HARDEST. You had learned that by now — that although living and being in a relationship with Frank Castle was never all that simple and unambiguous, there were times when the hardships peaked and he fell back into being a shell of a man. Of course, your entwined lives had moments of peace and serenity, whether it was the two of you sitting in the very back of an empty movie theater — a habit you had gotten him into — or just cuddling on his squeaky mattress, but when you were in love with a wanted man, a vigilante, you were bound to deal with danger. You could accept all that, but when it came to his emotions, you were lost, because as much as you wanted to help, you couldn't exactly relate to what he had been through. And as stated, holidays were the worst, not only for him but for you too — definitely for him, though.
You understood. If he didn't talk to you for a while, if he didn't drape his arm around your waist in the night, if he didn't join you in the shower — you understood. How could you ever blame him? He had been to hell and back, and you had no intentions to become yet another person to turn away from him, although you had been able to tell his attempts to drive you away in the beginning. By now, he had just submitted to the truth, and that was your undying loyalty to him. You stood by his side through each struggle, whether he wanted you literally next to him, or a little bit further away.
That was why you hadn't flinched when Thanksgiving was making its arrival, and Frank came to you with his eyes avoiding yours, his fingers twitching and his teeth gnawing on the inner side of his lip. "'M gonna go for a while", he had told you quietly, "I'll come back, but I just—I can't, y'know?" carefully sharing his unwillingness to deal with everything that Thanksgiving was definitely going to bring up, but against his expectations, you hadn't reacted in a negative way at all.
Instead, you had placed a hand on his cheek, your thumb running across the shaved side of his head. "I understand. You take all the time you need. I'll be here for you, as long as you want me, okay?", you had reassured, and breaking into the smallest, faintest of smiles, he had nodded softly.
"I will. You hear me? I always will", his gruffly spoken words had sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned over to you, his scarred hands gently cupping your face before he pressed a ginger kiss against your forehead. With that, he had walked out of your apartment, leaving you alone in the middle of the delicious smell of food, your apron covered in flour and a sad smile on your lips. You loved that man, including his flaws, through his downhills, even if it pained you to know that the dinner you were preparing wouldn't include him.
And Frank loved you too. He had known that for a while, but he had been truly convinced later that day, when he was sitting alone in some quiet diner in a peaceful part of the city — because surprisingly, those still existed — with a plate of cold eggs in front of him, a hot mug of coffee warming up his large hands. As always, there had been a cap resting on top of his dark hair, drawn low to hide his eyes and the scars around them as he sat in silence, surrounded by no people but too many thoughts. All of them. Yelling inside his head at the same time, tearing his calm demeanor apart from within. And then, suddenly, a hand had landed on top of Frank's, and he couldn't stop his head from snapping up only to find himself staring into your warm, kind eyes.
You had slid down onto the opposite seat, with his eyes following each of your movements keenly. "What are ya doing here? Thought you had that dinner", he had knitted his eyebrows together, his voice quiet and low as he eyed you. It was true — you had had a dinner to attend to, hell, you had been the one to prepare everything, but at last minute, you had made the decision to bail on your family.
"I did", you had licked your lips briefly, unsure how to put your thoughts and feelings into words. "Listen, I know this is hard, and I get it. I really do. I just don't want you to be alone. We don't have to talk, we can just sit here all night, but I want you to know that you don't have to go through all this alone. I can't understand how you're feeling, and I can't even begin to fathom what it's like, but I do know that you shouldn't be on your own on a night like this, so here I am. I got you, Frank. I'm here, okay?", your words had stabbed at his heart in the most bittersweet way, but immediately, warmth spread out in his chest. God, he was so lucky to have you.
For a moment, he had been silent, enough to make you worry that you had crossed a line, but eventually he took your hand gently and squeezed it softly — he said nothing, but you could hear everything.
And right there and then, as you sat with him all night without pushing too hard, just supporting and drawing comforting circles on his skin, he had known you were someone to hold onto. For good, hopefully.
After Thanksgiving, the two of you got to be happy and content for a while again. Perhaps it wasn't carefree, but you got to see Frank's heartwrenchingly beautiful smile more now, hear more of his stupid jokes, have more long nights with your lips meeting in the middle and your bodies melting together. Everything was fine — but indeed, only for a while. Because Christmas wasn't that far away, and whereas it was one of your favorite holidays — if not the one — with the cozy atmosphere, the cheerful music, the delicious food, the beautiful decorations, for Frank it was yet another painful reminder that his family was gone and the times when he'd wrap presents for his children and then help them assemble the toys, were over. The perfect setting that was often seen on TV, it had been ruined for him, and he couldn't really enjoy all the things that you did.
So once again, he was taking a step back. It was just another normal night for you and him, as you sat on the couch with his arm resting over your shoulders, both of you watching some Christmas movie while it snowed outside, when his gravelly words broke the silence in the room with, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm ready for all... that", his hand gesturing towards the screen in front of you, where a happy family was enjoying the Christmas spirit.
When you faced him with wide eyes, he was just slightly afraid that you had finally had enough, but that was most certainly not the case. "Frank, you don't have to be sorry for that, ever. It's okay. I understand", you offered a soft smile, and as his heart melted in his chest, he pulled you closer to leave a kiss on the top of your head. He didn't always say it out loud, but he was immensely grateful for your presence, your understanding, your loyalty, your kindness. You never stopped supporting him and that meant more to him than words could describe.
You didn't decorate much that year, although you certainly wanted to, but in the belief that Frank would be more comfortable if the holiday spirit wasn't suffocating your apartment, you left your box of ornaments untouched and didn't bother looking for a Christmas tree. Sure, it felt somewhat wrong to not listen to Christmas music or put your colorful lights on the windows, but as long as you got to be with Frank, it was better than okay. He was more important than some silly decorations.
However, eventually the day arrived when he walked out of that door without a certain date to his return — but even if he wasn't sure when he'd be ready to come back to the city, he did promise you that he would. This wasn't goodbye, just a temporary departure, and that did cheer you up, although it wasn't easy hugging him when you knew it was for the last time in a while.
But you elected to spend your holidays in a different way than brooding and crying over the absence of your loved one. Now, you could put up some decorations, so even though it was already too late to find a good tree on Christmas Eve, there was a festive mood lingering in your heart and home as you took out your old stuff. Not to mention the hunger that you suddenly grew for some mince pies, and before you could hesitate, you had already dug up a classic recipe and bought some ingredients. And that was how you spent the next day, Christmas — listening to some iconic Christmas songs with your apron wrapped around your waist, your face covered in flour as warmth and a delicious smell took over the kitchen.
For a second, you almost forgot that you were all alone. For a second, it felt almost normal.
When the pies were finally in the oven, you danced your way to the bathroom to wash your hands and face, your feet moving along the tune of White Christmas and your lips silently following the familiar lyrics. But when you heard clatter over the running, warm water that was rinsing your hands from the dough, your heart rose to your throat and you froze immediately at the unmistakable sound — no doubt one of the many pots or bowls had been knocked to the floor, but the question was, who did it? You were all alone, weren't you?
As the silky smooth voice of Michael Bublé was further interjected by more noise, you turned off the faucet quietly and tried to make the pounding of your heart the only sound in the bathroom while you tiptoed to the doorway, peeking through the small crack to see who had broken their way into your home. You were terrified, and you felt violated, but all that vanished when a familiar, broad frame caught your eye, the hood pulled over his short hair as per usual.
"Shit", his gruff voice broke the peaceful music, and you couldn't help but snort as you poked the door open and stepped out of the bathroom, only to see what had caused the noise — Frank was dragging a Christmas tree inside, fairly small but quite enough for your quaint little apartment. He shook the snow off of it, before picking up the bowls and knives he had accidentally shoved onto the floor during his struggle — frankly, it was quite amusing to see such a big, muscular man fight against a small tree like that. But soon enough, a wave of gratitude and happiness washed over you.
"I thought you were leaving the city for Christmas", you spoke from behind him, and as Frank quickly turned to face you, the hood dropped from his head and his dark eyes darted over to you — at first, he appeared just as serious and gloomy as he always did, but eventually, at the sight of you, his lips began twitching and his stern expression softened into something warmer. "How did you find that?", you quickly added, gesturing towards the tree he had successfully set up in your living room without destroying the lamp and the TV.
Chuckling quietly, he shrugged. "I have my ways", he offered mischievously, before stepping over to you and letting a content smile spread over his lips while his hands snaked around your waist, which gave him the opportunity to pull you closer until your hips were pinned together, his face looming over yours as he eyed you. "This means a lot to you, so I couldn't leave my girl alone on Christmas. 'Sides, you've done so much for me, I gotta do something in return. It ain't easy, but I figured if I wanna get back into all this...", he inhaled while gesturing around him, before his soft eyes landed back on yours, "you're my best option to do it with."
You could feel your heart racing in your chest, and it was obvious in your fond gaze and the adorable smile that tugged on the corners of your mouth, which made Frank chuckle quietly.
"Too much?", he wondered with the small smile still on his lips, his gaze dropping down to the floor for a second before he peeked back up at you, only to find you shaking your head and throwing your arms over his large shoulders — it was a struggle, but you were determined to give him a hug. His body quickly wrapped you in a gentle but tight embrace as well, closing you in the perfect scent that always lingered on his clothes, warming you up as he rested his jaw atop your head.
"You could never be too much for me to handle", you muttered into Frank's shoulder, and in response, he snorted before teasingly looking down at you and dropping his lips to your neck.
"Never?"
A giggle escaped from between your lips, although you couldn't stop your head from rolling to the other side in response to the feeling of his mouth attached to your skin, but before things could escalate, you softly pushed him away but not enough to stop you from looking into his endlessly deep eyes. "Hey, I gotta keep an eye on the oven, so you're going to have to wait", you wiggled your finger in the air, and while his tongue dragged across his bottom lip briefly, he lifted his hands in defeat, but made sure to give you a smirk.
"Fine, fine. After that—", Frank began, but you had cut him off quickly, already walking back to the kitchen to check on your pies.
"—We're going to decorate the tree you so kindly brought with you", you pointed out, but before you had stepped away from him, you stood on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss against his cheek, utterly grateful for the effort he was putting into all of this. "I really appreciate it", you whispered softly, and as he nodded as if to assure it was no big deal — which it was, actually — you grabbed your oven mittens and glanced at the mince pies, the sight of a perfect color with an ideal texture earning a satisfied sigh from you.
Once the pies were cooling off on the counter, you turned around to Frank, but the man was way ahead of you — his hands had already reached your hips and he was pulling you closer and resting his forehead against yours while subconsciously swaying to the beat of the classic Mariah Carey song.
And for a moment, you just stood there in silence, and you knew that even if he didn't say a word, it was his way of announcing his love to you, making you smile while you held him equally tight.
—————
LATER THAT NIGHT, you and Frank were seated on your small couch, you in his arms and the both of you watching the old Christmas movie that was playing on TV — a moment of relaxation, which you both had most definitely earned. You had spent hours putting up and decorating the tree, and although it looked beyond beautiful now, it had exhausted the both of you, not to mention the absurd amount of last-minute baking and cooking you did. But together, you and Frank prepared everything you only wanted, and to you, it was merely more proof what a good team you were. Even with some distance between the two of you sometimes, you were, in the end, inseparable.
The silence in the apartment was broken when Frank suddenly shuffled up from the relaxed position he had been lying in for the most of an hour by now, and in an instant, you looked over to him in confusion — almost worried that this was pushing him over the edge, beyond a point of no return. But instead of finding his gentle eyes guilt-ridden and pained, his sharp jawline clenched in frustration, his lips quivering sadly, you came face to face with a smile that threatened to break from fond to mischievous and teasing.
"What are you doing?", you laughed a little, but Frank simply pressed a kiss onto your lips before jumping up from the couch and striding into the bedroom, his frame moving from one side to another like it always did with each confident step. Your eyes followed his every movement, and when he disappeared from sight for a second, you continued to eye the doorway until he returned to you, one hand sneakily behind his back while the other reached for yours as he sat back down.
"Got something for you", he muttered, almost shyly as he showed you the neatly wrapped present, small and adorable with an almost perfect bow on top of it — truthfully, you were rather surprised by Frank's wrapping skills. If anything, the way he had battled with the lights on the tree only hours earlier and kept dropping the baubles from his calloused hands, you could have been so sure doing this would have caused an equal struggle. But instead, it was quite pretty, with your name scribbled on the wrapping paper, a little heart drawn next to it, which only widened your happy smile as you accepted the gift from him.
You were silent as you tore it open, but the sight that awaited earned a shaky gasp from you while you clasped your hand against the mouth. At the bottom of the small box, was a shiny, simple but beautiful ring — not an engagement ring, you knew and accepted that, but it was still beyond stunning and causing your eyes to water no matter how much you tried to fight it.
"A promise ring", Frank's low voice earned your attention as he carefully gestured towards the ring you had picked up to adore closer. "To promise that I'll always come back to you. Even when I—I need my distance, you gotta know I'd never walk out on you. And I know I don't say it a lot, because it ain't really me anymore, but I love you, yeah? I want you to never forget that. I promise I love you", he explained, his fingers twitching slightly as he stared the golden circle, almost avoiding your gaze in the fear that you didn't like it.
But you did. In fact, you loved it.
You leaped into his arms, crying out softly as your lips met his jawline, cheek, corner of his eye, forehead, nose, lips, all the while your arms rested around his neck. "I love you too", you whispered, "so much", before leaning in for one more kiss on the lips, your hand dropping from his shoulders to cup his bruised cheek gently.
The way he held you in his arms was nothing short of loving, tight but never hurting, his eyes stuck on your incomparable beauty, his lips twitching upwards with unconditional love, his rough hands gingerly taking yours so he could slip the ring on your finger. Perhaps you couldn't have the most public relationship with him, but in a way, now everyone could know you were his and he was yours.
Shaking your head, you sighed. "I can't believe I didn't get you anything", your palm covered your face in shame once you realized that whereas Frank had really brought his best, you had been living in a busy bubble, believing that you'd be alone for Christmas. But there he was — this flawed yet perfect man, staring into your eyes while his finger kept running over the ring he had placed onto yours, filling your heart with joy and love, instead of letting you drink the night away all by yourself.
In response, Frank snorted and you instantly looked at him through your fingers, finding an amused smile resting on his plump lips as he shook his head. "You're too good for me, y'know that? For this whole shitty world. You've given me all I need, and more, okay? I don't need some— some pointless shit, all I need is you, sweetheart. It sounds like a hell of a cliche, but you pull me back from the edge, you're always there for me and you never stop looking at me with this... this look of love, as if I deserve it. And that means the world to me, you hear me? You've done enough, baby girl", he reassured, and the affectionate words encouraged you to smile again. Frank wasn't usually a man of many words, but it seemed the Christmas cheer was finally entering his heart as well, causing him to pour it all out. You weren't complaining though — not at all.
”You do deserve it”, you argued, and not giving him a chance to fight back, you reeled him in for yet another kiss, and when your lips crashed together in the middle, the both of you closed your eyes and Frank's hand caressed your cheek ever so tenderly. He was used to being scared of closing his eyes — he wasn't a man of many fears, but for the longest time, the darkness that awaited had been tainted with nightmares, real ones too. But with you, he felt safe and okay.
"And if I'm being real honest here...", he breathed out when your lips disconnected, his breath hot on your mouth as he swallowed, "I don't think I've ever gotten a sweeter gift than this right here", before kissing you again, stronger and deeper than earlier but all the more filled with love and appreciation for you.
Running your fingers through his hair, you shrugged. "Well, I'm only following the rules", was your reply, returned with a smirk dancing your lips as you looked up at the ceiling, causing Frank to do the same. And indeed, over your heads, hung a small, adorable mistletoe, making it your responsibility to kiss — as if you needed convincing.
With an enchanting smile twitching at the corners of Frank's lips, he pushed you to your back, his hands riding up your sides and lifting your Christmas sweater, but not before he had looked into your eyes with the most serious, loving of gazes. And in the late night, with a mistletoe above your heads, a promise ring on your finger, Frank's large hands on your warm skin, your heart beating with love and his eyes full of adoration, he parted his lips once more.
"Merry Christmas."