How had his life come to this?

Nathan Drake sat before a small flat-screen in the living area of his and Elena's quaint apartment. He sat on the couch watching some terrible soap-opera with vampires. It was Elena's favorite show of late. Nate leaned over the back of the couch and watched her as she moved about the kitchen, attempting to cook up something. Nate just hoped she didn't burn the whole kitchen down in the process. She wasn't exactly known for being a great cook.

"Hey, Elena, do we really have to watch this?" Nate whined. He heard an annoyed sigh come from behind him.

"C'mon, Nate, this show's only on once a week. It's not like you have to watch it every day," she said as she made her way over to the couch with a bowl. She stirred the contents of the silver bowl with a wooden spoon as she intently watched the television screen. A man-apparently he was a vampire- was attempting to seduce a young girl into following him into a dark alleyway. Of course, the dumb girl followed him because of the fact that he was a vampire.

"Of course she follows him. Who wouldn't?" Nate asked sarcastically.

"Shhh. I'm trying to listen."

"You'd follow him, wouldn't you? Just because he's attractive, huh?" He asked.

"Nate, shut up!"

"Oh, and because he's a vampire. Forgot about that aspect. That's important."

"Nate, clearly you don't get it, okay? But can you please just let me watch my show?" She pleaded. She had obviously grown sick of him lately. She had been spending more time watching her stupid shows then spending time with him. Nate sighed, and turned to peek what was in Elena's bowl.

"What on earth is that?" he asked, scowling. She sighed.

"Pancake batter. I wanted to make something that I couldn't mess up on for once," she said. Nate made a disgusted face, and she stomped back to the kitchen and dropped the bowl in the sink. Nate turned around. "You know, you could at least try to appreciate me sometimes. Do you know where you'd be without me? Nowhere!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

Nate stood up and walked over to her. "Elena, c'mon, you know I appreciate you, it's just that-"

"What, let me guess, I'm too boring for you? This isn't exciting or dangerous enough for you?"

"No, Elena, it's not that, I just-" but he struggled to find the words. She stood there with her hands on her hips, waiting for him to give her some excuse. She laughed bitterly and shook her head.

"You just want to go on another 'adventure.' Do you think it's a joke? Is it like some kind of sick and twisting game for you? I mean, Nate, really, what is it that makes you want to jump out of the apartment window every five minutes? So you can go find some silly little treasure and nearly get killed?"

"Elena, c'mon, you know that's not what I care about right now."

"Oh, ohhhh, okay, not right now? So what do you care about right now? Because it certainly isn't me."

"Elena, of course I care about you! Why on earth would I have gone to the trouble of saving you so many times if I didn't even care about you?" He exclaimed, agitated. She scoffed at him.

"Save me? You didn't save me, you threw me in with you into your mess of a life!" She yelled. "I never wanted to be tied into all of your shit! I thought you were different, Nathan," she said, letting the words sink in before speaking again. "I guess I was dumb enough to believe that after your last little adventure, you'd be happy with just...me. But I guess that's not the case," she said, and went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Nate was left standing in the kitchen alone, with the sounds of the TV behind him. Angry, he stalked over to the TV and punched in the power button to turn it off. He then stood there for a moment and took a deep breath. He had to talk to Elena. He had to save their marriage. He didn't know how, but he needed to.

He walked up to the bedroom door and knocked. "Elena? Elena, c'mon, you know I love you. Why wouldn't I be happy?" He heard footsteps and she creaked the door open so only her face was visible.

"I know you're not happy, Nate. I can see it. I'm not that oblivious."

"But Elena, I lo-''

"I'm not doubting that you love me, Nate," she said more softly, opening the door wider. "I just know you're not happy with this life. You can't sit couped up in an apartment, or work a normal job. I know that. And it kills me to watch you try and pretend like you can."

He looked into her eyes, and noticed they were tearing up. "Elena, I am happy," he said, trying to sound reassuring. She simply shook her head.

"But you're not." He watched as she then walked over to the nightstand, grabbed her Iphone and purse, and pushed past him to go back into the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" He asked, and she stopped and looked back at him.

"You know I have work," she said. He made a face.

"Yeah, but not on a Saturday night." She then walked up to him, unsmiling.

"Nate, I think we both know this isn't working. We both want different things, and-and we can't live together like this. We're too different. I just wished we could have figured that out sooner."

"Wait, Elena, c'mon, don't you think you're being a little...melodramatic?" Nate suggested. She gave a bitter laugh.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about. I don't think we can live together, Nate," she said. "Our marriage didn't exactly work out the first time, so I think we're just kidding with ourselves trying to make it work again."

"But Elena, that was my fault! I had cold feet after the wedding! Every guy has that! Look, we can make it work."

"I don't think you can force a marriage, Nate," she stated, and with that, she was gone. Nate stood by the small kitchen island, scratching his head in thought. Her words had stung. He had to admit, though, she had a point. Although he truly did love Elena, he wasn't happy with this life. It drove him crazy living in the same, cramped place, doing the same things every day: waking up and making coffee, going to work at various odd and low-paying jobs, only to come home to an attempted-and failed-home-cooked meal. Him and Elena rarely even made love. They hadn't had sex for weeks, and even when they had, it didn't feel like how it used to. There was nothing there. He couldn't explain it, but both of them had felt unsatisfied afterwards as of late, and thus had apparently decided to stop doing it at all. Nate missed the point of living with Elena if they barely even got along anymore.

He trudged into the bedroom and searched through his sock drawer for something he had been hiding. When he pulled it out, he couldn't help but feel his heart rate increasing with excitement. He held the familiar brown leather journal for a moment, reminiscing upon all of the places it had been, all of the things it had gone through with him. He scowled as he remembered when Elena had found it on the nightstand the other day and had tried to throw it out. Why in the world would she do that? Did she really think that in throwing the thing out, his ever-present desire for adventure would go away with it?

He sighed, and then sat down on the edge of the bed, flipping through its pages. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he wondered what other coming ventures would fill the blank ones.