[AustinCarlile] Burning Brighter Than The Fire [Sequel|LiveForever]

Three.

By now, everyone is gone, everyone but Austin, even Bailey left, something about giving me the apartment, our privacy, but now we’re along and I don’t want to be alone with him, it’s too awkward, I have nothing to say to him. He read the article, and I saw his jaw clenching throughout it, like I did something wrong, like I was making him angry, when in reality, I did nothing wrong, I said something I shouldn’t have, he was with people he shouldn’t have been with, that’s two completely different things.

Placing the last dish into the dishwasher, sighing softly as I stand up, my back beginning to ache from the constant bending and standing, it’s a tiring process, I hate it, I hate doing dishes, I just want to lay down in bed and sleep for days. I told the guys that they could sleep here, I have enough room, but they all said that they were going to split up and stay with the guys, I don’t know who is staying with who, but they're all within a five minute drive of here, and I kind of wish Austin went with one of them.

He’s waiting, I know he is, he’s waiting for his opportunity to start something, to yell at me for what was said, to completely ignore the fact that what he did was real and what I said was out of anger and a complete myth. The guys I used to date, none of them are worth my time, they never were, they were horrible guys, I wouldn’t even acknowledge their existence if I saw them in the supermarket, it just wouldn’t happen, I hate all of them, they’re all jerks who only care about themselves.

That’s why I love Austin, why I was drawn to him in the first place, he doesn’t live his life just for himself, he doesn’t always put himself before others, he does when he has to, and other times all he wants to do is help everyone he can. Like I knew it was going to happen, the magazine drops down on the counter, and I spin around, raising an eyebrow as I lean my lower back against the edge of the granite countertop. “What?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I bite down on my lower lip, suddenly feeling the butterflies in my stomach, I'm nervous, he’s really angry, and he’s never been angry at me before.

“What is this?” His voice, it’s stern, serious, laced with anger and hatred, and I honestly don’t know what he’s talking about, what in the article he’s mad at, whether he’s mad at the fact that I entertained the mention of the tweets or my response or how I said I would never create a tour around his schedule, I don’t know, so I shrug my shoulders. He doesn’t like my response, he runs his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly, exhaling slowly and elongating the process, like he has the right to be so dramatic. “You hang out with your fucking ex-boyfriends? Are you sleeping with them again or something?”

My, the people I chose to date, they weren’t necessarily horrible people like I tell people they were, it’s just easier that way, then having to tell them how I always wound up in some sort of abusive relationship – verbal, mental, the occasional shove here and there. "You're probably the biggest asshole ever right now. I care, that's why you're mad? I care that you're constantly with girls who will do anything sexual and who are gorgeous and fake and want to sleep with you? Let me jump for fucking joy that you spend time with those girls and make sure to tweet about it." Shrugging my shoulders, I shake my head, feeling the water form in my eyes, I hate this, I hate that he’s freaking out like this over nothing, over a stupid comment I made when I was mad, because he did something wrong, I didn’t do anything wrong.

Combing my fingers through my hair, I roll my eyes as he opens his mouth to say something, anything, but he closes it immediately, presses his lips together in a tight line. Taking a step towards me, he wraps his arms around my torso, pressing my body up against his, but I don’t want to touch him, I don’t want to be near him. He’s so dirty, such a hypocrite, all of those girls, they were gorgeous, I don’t even know how he knows all of them, all the models and whatnot.

Placing my hands on his chest, I push against him, trying to get him off of me, I don’t want to touch him, I don’t even know how those girls touched him, I don’t want him near me right now. “Get out, Austin.” My voice cracks, it’s weak, he can hear the tears in my voice, and I don’t know how long I can hold them back, keep them hidden in my eyes, because everything about this is horrible. It took me a while to accept the fact that he spent time with these girls, but I can never accept the fact that all of those girls are prettier than I am, that they’re the type of girls that Austin would date in the past, history repeats itself, and I don’t think I can deal with him just walking out of this relationship.

I need space, time, I want to think, I can’t do it with him here, not with him yelling, not with him watching me, I can’t, I, I don’t want him to leave forever, just for now, I want him gone. “Austin, I'm serious, get out of my house.” Shoving his chest, trying to desperately to separate myself from him, I bite down on my lower lip, covering my face with my hands as soon as the first sob wracks through my body.

Clasping his fingers behind my back, he holds me to his chest, and I know that he feels guilty for what he said, that he isn't going to leave, but I have nothing to say to him, I don’t know what to say to him, I don’t want to talk about the other girls, but I want to know. “Devon, I'm sorry. I don’t know what I would do if you were wasting your time with those assholes. And I know, I know what I did hurt you. I didn’t realize. And, honestly, Devon, you were the only girl that was on my mind. I love you, okay?”

“You’re ruining all of this with your talking. Shut up and let me cry in your arms.” I choke out behind the tears, causing him to let out a nervous laugh, but I don’t want a laugh, I just want all of this to stop, I want him to be Austin again, my Austin, and all of this paranoia is getting in the way.