Hey everyone, long time no see, as always, haha! Anyway, not much of an excuse on why this one took so long, basically same as last time, with added sickness. My doctor thinks I have a "mono-like" virus... Anyway. Let's not dwell on the negative, yeah? Straight to the good things.
I'm going to do some shameless self promotion, like always, and say that you guys should totally check out my website (www.contentsofmymess.webs.com,) follow me on twitter (@capillarystatic,) and leave me some stuff in my ask.fm (ask.fm/capillarystatic... This is actually the best place to reach me about anything involving a question, haha. Leave a question here, and you are guaranteed an answer, no matter what it's about.)
One more thing before you read, though- yes, Ashlee Simpson does appear in this chapter, and no, I do not have anything against her and that is not why she appears in the story as she does. It's all just part of the plot...
Anyway, I hope you all are still stickin' around to read!
Enjoy! xxee.
P.S. Editing for this is SO sloppy. I'm sorry.
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Pete was fifteen minutes late. I probably wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been staring at the clock from the moment noon rolled around, but I couldn't help myself. I needed a friend and I most certainly was not going downstairs to Henry (my mother was out buying milk or something, I hadn't really been paying attention when she told me,) for comfort, nor could I bring myself to pick up my phone and call Gerard back, because I knew for a fact that his voice would upset me all over again.
I told him I would wait until he could say "I love you," back, I know I did, but it felt like a lie. I didn't want to wait for him to say it back. I'd waited for a really long time for something to actually happen with this relationship, and when I tried to take it somewhere, he suddenly wasn't sure?
I just felt so betrayed.
When the front door's bell rung, I was practically tripping over my own feet all the way down the stairs.
I vaguely noticed Henry sitting in the living room, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper, staring at me as I ran by, but I didn't bother saying hello. I didn't blame him for staring; I'd locked myself in my room after Gerard left last night and basically did nothing except sleep and slam things around. He was probably assuming that I had anger management issues. I'd been told that a lot, when I was younger; as a kid I dealt with everything by screaming and throwing things. Luckily, as I got older, I'd kind of grown out of it, but recently the anger was starting to come back, and it was coming back way too often. It was like, instead of getting depressed like I had for the past few years, I was suddenly really mad at everyone and anything that I could be mad at.
When I finally got to the door, I wasn't exactly prepared for the wave of relief that flooded me when I saw Pete standing there. He looked like a puppy, or something, standing timidly outside of my house, bits of hair falling in his face. He stood there gazing around with his hands in his jacket pockets, until he noticed I'd opened the door, because then he met my eyes and smiled like I was the best part of his day (and fuck, it felt like forever since Gerard had looked at me like that, smiling honest and happy and fucking loving,) and dropped his hands from his pockets.
I practically flung myself at him, needing a hug more than anything else in the world right then, and he stumbled a bit, but hugged me back. I pressed my face against his neck and held onto him like my life depended on it, because right then, I felt like it kind of did.
