Everything You've Come To Regret

43 | the look of love

warnings: mentions of death, alcohol use

February 19, 2016

And if we guess who I'm pretending to be
Do we win a prize?
Having attempted twice, both incorrectly
Do we get a third try?

⋆ ˚ ° ° ˚⋆

"I'm here because... I, uh, I've realised that I don't want to say goodbye to you. We've just begun. So please... give us another chance."

There was a long drawn out pause. My stuttering had sounded quite pathetic, but at least he could see that I was honest. My throat tightened once more, but I kept going. If I stopped, it would be officially over. I had to hold onto that small spark of hope I'd created and ignore the people gawking at us, the cars passing behind me and the overstimulating street lights at every corner.

All my attention zeroed in on Alex, who was still staring at me as though testing how far I would go for us. To the moon, I wanted to scream.

"I lied to you, and I know there's not a single goddamn apology that could change your mind. All this time, I tried to protect you, or... or," I swallowed, losing a little bit of courage when he frowned, "or that's what I thought. But all I did was hurt you, and... I'm sorry. After everything we told each other, you deserved better than this."

I mentally cheered myself; I wasn't crying yet. That was promising.

Alex's eyes fell to the ground as he kicked a small pebble around.

"Now you always told me to try out and have no regret. So... here I am. I'm probably making a fool of myself, but I–I just miss you so much, Alex. You helped me grow, and you made me become a better person. I guess I... I mean, I'm sorry for betraying you like that."

Trying hard not to wince at the nonsense that had just come out of my mouth, I shut up and observed him. The bitter wind still nipped at my cheeks. He flicked the ashes off of the tip of his cigarette, watching the grey powder cascading down and down.

"The other day at the museum..." I added, "I wasn't myself. I know that's not an excuse, but I feel like I haven't begged you enough to stay. You're... you're my person, y'know? Until the end."

Alex's eyes landed on my hands.

"You're frozen. Come inside."

I had to blink a couple of times to realise he'd actually spoken to me without yelling.

Okay, he might have been plotting how to yell at me already, but I still breathed a small sigh of relief. That was a good start.

Nodding and suddenly timid, I followed him behind the building where a single door stood. Where he'd come from.

I trailed behind while he walked up a couple of stairs and past people from the staff. Heat replaced the cold, and I suddenly shivered as he opened another door to let me inside first. I let the warmth seeping into my chilled skin, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

The space was intimate and comfy. I supposed the artists were welcomed here before going on stage.

I slipped in, making sure he wasn't closing the door behind me. That was when I met Miles' gaze, walking past the room as if he had somewhere important to go. He tried to suppress a smile, but it failed miserably. I almost smiled too.

"Why did you come here?" Alex broke the silence, sitting on the small grey couch in the middle of the room.

The bottle of vodka standing on the floor nearly fell flat as Alex accidentally kicked it. He bent forward, catching it with a hand.