Preacher Man // ross lynch + driver era

108

I sat on my knees the floor with my suitcase in front of me as I sorted my clothes into neat piles. Ross laid on his stomach on the bed with his head near mine as he watched me patiently reorganize several times.

"Don't go," he whispers, the same conversation we've had every time we separated from one another.

I glance over my shoulder at him. "Soon enough we won't have to," I remind him, picking up my shirts and placing them down into the container.

"I wish it was now," he confesses. "I get so lonely without you. I'm glad you and Liv can fly home together."

I nod. "Me too."

I'm still not confident with flying. It still makes me nervous, but that's probably because I've never gone on a plane with someone. I haven't even gone on a plane until this year and every time, it's been desperate getaways.

"You look sad."

I laugh - a simple breath of air escaping my mouth quickly. "It's not fun to leave you. I hate Colorado right now. I'm so sad being there. I want to be with you."

His hand darts out from underneath him so he can slide it down my hair in an attempt to comfort me. "I know you do, baby. Were you able to figure everything completely out with my dad?"

I nod. "Yeah, I think so." I place another shirt on top. "Fuck, I hope so," I mumble, placing the stack of clothes inside.

"Want to tell me about it?"

I lean back down and swivel my body slightly so I can meet his eyes. "Cremation for both of them. It's happening at a place that's about forty minutes from my apartment because it's the cheapest one near us. The place will call me and I can go pick up their ashes. I was able to open up a credit card and it's all on there so I'll be able to pay some off weekly. I think that's all that's important. Liv said she'd take the drive with me whenever it's ready... they're ready? I don't know."

Ross sighs and leans his hand out to grasp my cheek. I immediately lean into it. "You're so strong, you know that?"

"I just want life to relax for a bit. I'm tired."

My body just feels exhausted. I hoped this little getaway would help, but I still feel like I need to lay in my bed and go to sleep for a few weeks.

"Let me pay off that credit card," he whispers which automatically earns a groan from me. "I'm serious."

I shake my head, leaning myself up off his hand. He shifts his body so he slides off the bed and joins me on his hardwood floor.

"No."

"Why not? It would help you so much and I can afford it. Don't make this hard," he says, moving his hands back up to grasp my cheeks and make me look at him.

Talking about money makes me so uncomfortable. I was raised where we didn't speak about it because it was a touchy subject. We didn't have much. So when we did have a bit, I wasn't allowed to question. I couldn't know where it came from.

I don't like taking people's money. I could never ask for money.

It all makes me so uncomfortable so this conversation makes me squeamish.

"I don't want to use your money. It's your money, you earned it. You use it on yourself," I say, refusing to look into his eyes.

He grasps my chin and tugs so I'm facing him. "I'm not allowed to use any of my money on my girlfriend? It's my money, why can't I choose what to do with it?"

"I don't want you wasting it on me."

Ross raises his eyebrows. "It's not wasting it on you. I want to make your life easier, let me help you. Please. You don't owe me anything, I promise," he rants.