It was sad, really it was. But during this whole fiasco between you, Jensen and Misha, you had never been to his house. You watched as the lights passed by your window, the city leaving you behind for more of a secluded neighborhood with lots of trees, and houses that would fit into the living room of your old house.

Glancing over to where Misha sat, his concentration on the road, you could tell he was nervous and unsure. His shoulders were tight, his hands fisted around the steering wheel. He had a slight frown on his face, and you were worried he was already regretting his decision, and yours, to stay together.

"Is everything okay?" You asked quietly as he made a turn onto a secluded street. He glanced over at you, before looking back at the road. However he took his hand off the steering wheel, lacing his fingers with yours.

"Yes, no." He stuttered and your heart plummeted. "It's just. You've never been to my house before, and it's completely different than what you and Jensen had. It's half the size of your house, and I built it with my own hands." He explained.

"I'm sure I will love it. I was never used to big and fancy until Jensen bought that house. As long as you have a backyard that I can lounge in occasionally, we should be fine." You assured him, watching as some of the tension eased from his shoulders.

Your fingers stayed laced together as he made a couple more turns before stopping in front of a simple, two story house. It was hard to see much through the darkness, but you loved the big bay window in the front.

Stepping out, you waited as Misha grabbed your bags, before following him to the door. There was a porch on the front, with a couple of wicker chairs off to the side. The front door opened, and Misha stepped inside, flicking on a light. You stepped inside, immediately falling in love with the open and airy space in front of you. 

"It's beautiful!" You told him, turning as you took it all in. It was nowhere near as fancy as the house you and Jensen had shared, but you were grateful for that. The living room had a tan couch and chair, facing a fireplace. A wooden coffee table was placed in between, full of papers and coffee cups. Across the room was a large, dining room table, made out of a slab of wood. You could see the kitchen off to the other end, but not enough to get a sense of it. 

Misha grabbed your bags, climbing up the stairs that were off to the side. "Come on, it's late and we need to get you settled in." He told you. Following him up the stairs, you came to a small landing that overlooked the main part of the house.

"Misha, I can't believe you built this! How long did it take you? It's spectacular!" You babbled on, loving the place.

"A couple of years. I had some friends help, but it was mainly me." He said, acting a little bashful at your praise. "Here, you can sleep in the guest room tonight."

You turned to face him, a little surprised at his words. "The guest room?"

He had dropped your bags and was standing there, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, it's not like I don't want you in my bed. But you just left your husband, and I was thinking we could take it slow for a couple of days." He explained.

"Yeah, because this entire relationship has been slow." You smarted back, a little frustrated but understanding where he was coming from.

"Listen, I promise. Just for a day or two. I know I started things off wrong, and now I want to make it up to you." He said, before pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Goodnight. I'm the next door if you need anything."

You watched him walk to his room, before you entered yours. It was nice, though sparsely decorated, with a green and tan quilt on the iron bed frame, and a landscape picture hanging above. There was an antique dresser across from you, with a picture frame on top. Picking it up, you smiled at the younger version of Misha.

A door led off to the bathroom, and you slipped inside, changing into your pajamas before washing your face. Turning the light off, you slid into bed, trying to get comfortable in the strange bed. You tossed and turned, trying to find a soft spot. But you weren't used to sleeping alone, and this bed was a lot harder than your old one.

After over an hour, you had given up. Slipping on your robe, you opened your door, tip toeing your way to Misha's door. It was cracked open slightly, and you pushed it open. It was hard to see, but you saw a king sized bed in the middle of the large room, and a figure spread out on their stomach. "Misha?" You whispered, wondering if he was awake.

When he didn't stir, you considered turning around. But the prospect of spending the rest of the night by yourself sent you further into his room. "Misha?" You tried again, this time a little louder, and you watched as he struggled to wake up. 

"Y/N?" He muttered, his voice extra deep with sleep. "Is everything okay?"

"I couldn't sleep." You explained, standing next to his bed. "After everything, I just hated being by myself."

He rubbed his eyes, before sitting up in bed. "I understand. Why don't you crawl into the other side." He said, not even fighting you. You raced around the other side, stubbing your toe on the edge of the bed. Muttering under your breath, you hobbled on one foot until you slid into bed.

At first it was a little awkward, both of you laying on your backs, afraid to move. But then Misha moved his arm, pulling you to him until you were curled up against his side, your head resting on his chest. His arm came to rest on yours, and you instantly felt better.  "Thanks." You whispered, already feeling sleepy.

"Anything for you." He told you, kissing your forehead as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.