20 Years
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader (Non-Descriptive Reader, no use of Y/N)
Word Count: 1.1k
TW: So much angst, no comfort, sucidial ideation
Summary: You’ve loved Bradley for 20 years, and he never noticed.
Authors note: sorry ya’ll. I like to torture myself and you🤷🏻♀️
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“Until you have experienced the pain of falling in love with someone who doesn’t love you, you have not come across true hurt and despair.”
Year 1
You’ll always remember the first time you saw him. You accidentally bumped into him your first day in the Navy. You murmured a sorry, and he just smiled down at you before walking away. He was only 20 at the time, his hair darker and his face clean shaven.
He didn’t remember you after that, so you just admired him from afar. He was the guy all the girls wanted. When he walked into the room everyone noticed. When you walked into the room no one batted an eye.
You tried to tell yourself you didn’t care about him, until the day he finally spoke to you. He was tall, and his god damn eyes were even more beautiful up close.
“Hey I’m Bradley.” He’d said to you, with a big grin on his face.
As if you didn’t already know who he was.
“You’re Amy’s friend, right? I was wondering if I could grab her number from you?”
You smiled and gave him her number, no questions asked.
You tried to pretend the ache in your chest wasn’t because of him.
Year 2
You became flying partners. You were his back seater, and now he had to notice you. But somehow, he still didn’t see you. At least he didn’t see you how you saw him.
When you looked at him you saw oceans and valleys, galaxies and planets. When he looked at you, he saw- nothing important.
You grew close to him being his WSO. You told eachother everything when you were in the sky. Secrets that would never be revealed.
Each time you were flying with him you were falling deeper into the hole you’d dug for yourself.
You pretended you weren’t falling in love.
Year 5
He met someone, and he loved her. It was killing you to watch him with someone else.
You wanted to tell him that you were miserably in love with him. You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t sleep at night knowing he was happy kissing someone else.
You had to stop going out when she was there. The worst part is he didn’t notice you were gone.
Year 7
You cried alone most nights. Your friends told you to start putting yourself out there, go on some dates. But you’d tried that for years, nothing ever panned out.
“Why haven’t I met any of the guys you go out with. I know you’ve got one!” he’d say, a big grin on his face. He would always wrap his arm around your shoulder while he talked to you.
“You know that’s not true Bradshaw.” You’d say back. You wanted to tell him – I can’t seem to find someone as good as you, you fucking idiot.
“No guy is good enough for you anyway.”
You wanted to laugh at the irony.
But instead, you spent hours wondering if you should have told him you loved him. The pain of loving him when you couldn’t have him was consuming you.
Year 10
When he told you he proposed you smiled and told him congratulations. You told him you’d be there, whatever he needed.
You went home and sobbed until your throat was raw and mind was numb.
You had to distance yourself from him after that. He asked where you’d been once. You told him you met someone, and he believed you.
Year 12
You saw him and his wife at a friend’s wedding. He had aged like fine wine, he looked more handsome than he did the first day you met him.
He was so god damn happy so you tried to be happy too. But you swore you could see pity in his eyes. You were 32 after all- single, no kids.
“How are you doing? It’s been a while.” He’d say, his eyes trying to hide their concern.
“Great, just going where the Navy tells me.” Drowning yourself in your career helped to distract from the loneliness.
You couldn’t talk to him like you used to. It hurt too much.
He played the piano that night, just like old times. You left early so he wouldn’t see the tears streaming down your face.
Year 15
You had worked so hard to move on. You met someone, someone who noticed you. He loved you, treated you well. You were happy, really. But he wasn’t Bradley.
Year 20
Bradley called you to wish you a happy 20 years in the Navy. You thanked him and told him the same- you tried to hide that you were tipsy from the whiskey bottle in your hand .
He asked how you were, and you told him you were great- that everything was going well for you.
You lied to him - because how could you tell him the truth?
You were completley and uttery alone, with nothing but the Navy as your companion. You’d never been able to find someone that could keep up with the moving parts of being in the Navy.
You’d gotten used to it.
“I miss you.” He said. And you shook your head in disbelief.
“Don’t say that.” You said back, your voice filled with sadness.
“Why? It’s true.”
But he didn’t miss you how you missed him. He didn’t think of you that way- he never had.
The antidepressants on your kitchen counter looked tempting. You knew you could take a handful – go to sleep for a while. No one would notice- just like how he never cared enough to notice you.
“Bradley I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you.” The alcohol was getting to you, and the recklessness and sadness you felt were a dangerous mix.
“And you never noticed.” You bit out. “Not even once.” Your voice was laced with anger. You were trying so fucking hard not to cry.
All you could hear was Bradley’s quiet breaths through the phone.
“I’m so fucking happy that you’re happy.” You took another sip of the whiskey.
“But I hate you for it. I hate that I can’t blame you for not loving me. I hate that you found someone, and that I’m still here wishing it had been me.”
You were breathing heavily now with tears streaming down your face. You set the bottle down on the ground and looked up at the ceiling.
“I’m so sorry.” He said. His voice cracked with sadness. You wondered if pity was what he truly felt.
Before he could speak again you hung up the phone.
He had a wife, kids- family. He didn’t need your love confessions or drama. You were both 40 years old for fucks sake.
You imagined that first day you saw him. How happy and naïve you both had been. You closed your eyes and leaned up against the wall, sliding down to the hardwood floor.
You could hear the vibrations of your cellphone through your muted hearing. You ignored them and settled deeper into the darkness.
You dreamt of another life where you were with him. Where he noticed you- where he thought you were special, something more than a friend.
He kissed you so sweet in your dreams – something you’d always craved but would never have.
Soon the alcohol would be gone, sleep would leave you – and you’d be back to wishing you could have done more.
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