Assassin's Creed X Reader One-shots

That's Not What I Meant and You know It [PROMPT] (Malik x Reader)

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

If feels as though those were the only words in your vocabulary lately.

The atmosphere within the small confines of the car was charged and intolerable, every dip and bump in the road only adding to the pressure, threatening to overflow and create a gratuitous havoc.

You risk a glance at the driver and nearly recoil at the sight of a large vein pulsing in a most aggressive manner, almost as though it were screaming all the things the man himself wished to give voice to. You had witnessed his fury many times during your marriage, but not once had you ever been on the receiving end. It frightened you; he would never lay a finger on you, that much was certain, but his words could be cruel and condescending.

One thick, dark brow twitches in tandem with the windscreen wipers. “Next time I tell you I don’t want to go somewhere, don’t force me.”

Ah, and there was the tone now, complete with a tight jaw and gritted teeth – you weren’t particularly fond of being spoken to like a disobedient child.

“You never want to go anywhere.” You fix him with a stern stare. “If it were up to you, I’d be stuck at home all day waiting for you to finish work.”

The car swerves a bit when Malik’s gaze detracts from the road and you cling to the dashboard with the naive belief it will protect you were there to be an accident. However, Malik is swift enough to rectify the vehicle, now bearing a touch more caution when stealing glances in your direction.

“Don’t say that as though I’m a dictator; I’ve always encouraged your every endeavour, but when I come home after a long day, I’d like the option to relax without having you constantly nagging.”

“Nagging?” You repeat with a disparaging snort. “Maybe I wouldn’t nag if you gave me even just five minutes of attention, but no, that would be asking far too much.” You cross your arms huffily and stare at the rain drops racing down the passenger windows. “I don’t exist to you – I haven’t for a long time.”

“And so you seek out attention from other men?” Came the man’s snotty retort.

A weary sigh slips effortlessly from your lips. You were tired of his attitude, frustrated by his lack of trust in you, and agitated from being stuck in a car for the past hour. “Do these accusations make you feel better, Malik? Hm? You deliberately set out to hurt me and for what? So I’ll be left focusing on the pain rather than the devastating knowledge that I’m wasting my life in a loveless marriage?”

The car screeches as all four wheels skid atop the wet asphalt, coming to a crooked stop a few seconds later. The steering wheel appears close to being ripped off as Malik’s grip tightens, his eyes burning as they settle on you.

“Loveless marriage?” He chokes out, anger radiating from him in waves. “I’ve spent my life giving you everything, and you have the audacity to say you’re in a loveless marriage?”

You scoff, making a show of your exasperation. The man was unwilling to admit his faults and you had finally grown tired of him constantly redirecting blame and refusing to take responsibility for his own actions.

“Do you even hear yourself? Everything you’ve given me are things you thought I wanted.”

“Financial security? A home? You’re saying you don’t want those things?”

“No, I do, but...”

You realised this was not an argument which could be won, and the longer this insanity was allowed to persist, the more damage would be inflicted upon your already frail heart.

“Never mind,” you conclude. “Wake me when we get home.”

Turning on the heater, you incline the seat and get comfortable – might as well make at least one bit of this trip beneficial. At least if you’re asleep you won’t have to deal with the pain, and right now, you were in agony; thirteen years of marriage and what has it amounted to? Nothing but misery and broken dreams.

Where did it all go wrong, you wonder. When did love turn to resentment? When did two lovesick teenagers unable to keep their hands to themselves become cynical adults no longer capable of sharing the same bed?

A hand lays itself upon your leg and your eyes pop open, startled. Malik casts a quick glance your way, and for the first time in years, there’s a spark of love within those dark pools – a faint shadow of his younger self.

It comes as quite a surprise when he utters the phrase ‘I’m sorry’.

You ask that he repeat himself in case you had somehow misheard.
There’s silence on his end for a minute or so and you knew him well enough to know that he was carefully contemplating the best course of action before opening his mouth again, mulling over every word, every possible outcome which will keep from earning a slap.

“Listen, I'm...sorry. I shouldn't have been that hard on you.”

Raising a questioning brow in his direction, Malik struggles on, voice uncertain.

“It was wrong of me to have said those things; when I saw you at the party, surrounded by other men, you looked so happy. You were enjoying their company.”

That sounded shockingly like an accusation.

You cross your arms and look away, unable to look him in the eye. Truthfully, you had been enjoying their attention. They were giving you what you so desperately craved without you even having to ask for it.

“I hadn’t seen you smile like that in years and it made me...upset.”

“Upset?”

“Because I haven’t been able to do that – make you smile. And...that’s what attracted me to you in the first place.”

He has the look of a kicked puppy which inevitably causes a wave of guilt to overcome and drown you. Damn it. You shouldn’t be the one burdened by guilt. Hell, it was his attitude which caused this trouble.

He continues, tentatively taking your hand in his, gaze flickering frantically over your face, searching for any sign of rejection. “You were right; our relationship hasn’t been healthy in a very long time. I’ve put my work before you and I haven’t been the least bit attentive."

You search his face to find nothing but sincerity and compassion – it was like you had travelled to the past and he had fallen in love with you all over again.

“Why...?” You find it difficult to speak. “Why are you...saying all this? Why now?”

The car is suddenly pulled over and parked so Malik could focus all attention on you. His eyes were glossy, brimming with unshed tears. “I don’t want to lose you. I know it’s unfair of me to ask this of you, but I want another chance. You were my first love. My only love. And I want you to stay that way.”

“Malik...”

“I’m not going to pretend we don’t need help.” He rushes out, desperately clinging to whatever hope there may be left for the pair of you. “We can go to counselling, and I can learn to be a better husband. Just, please...don’t give up on me.”

Every word wriggles deep into your heart and embeds within your core. He was serious. And after all this time, he still loved you.

And that’s all you wanted.

“Okay.”