How it Ended

How to endure Hell

Hopefully this makes up for me not updating in awhile? 

Though, you should know, this is the best POV of a male I have ever written. Well, in my opinion anyways. There is just something about Tucker and his heat break that just ... UMFH. 

Yeah, I love him(;

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TUCKER 

I have an idea on what Hell may look like.

Everyday when I wake up I get a glimpse of it in the things I do, the way I live, the past I was. Hell is the bed I sleep in and the world I’m surrounded by.

For the past three years I have been living with the idea on what would happen when I saw Brooke again. For me, she was my hell. Everyday I knew she fucked me up more than I would like to admit.

She took my heart and my dreams away without a second thought and I would never forgive her for that.

Could never forgive her for that.

But, fuck, if Hell is staring into those brown eyes I know so well, then I don’t want to know what Heaven looks like.

I lean against the pole behind me and stare at her through narrowed eyes. My shoulders tense up when her teeth come out and bite into her pink lips. Lips that use to be mine. Lips that use to whisper things to me in the middle of the night.

Lips that would never be mine again.

My eyes move slowly from her lips and I meet her eager gaze. In them I see a million things working in her mind. Her face goes from happy, to sad, to pissed all in the span of three seconds.

If my heart wasn’t half way out of my chest I might have laughed at the look. But now, standing here looking at all that crazy hair and bright eyes, I realize I need a drink.

I said as much not even five seconds ago, but she seems to be in a state of shock. Realizing it was going to have to be to do all the talking, I nod my head toward the bar where I knew Pete was working.

Brooke follows where I just nodded too and when her eye flick back to me, I raise an eyebrow.

“What about that drink?” The words sound weird coming out of my mouth but I don’t dwell too much on them.

Brooke must realize that too because she opens her mouth, like she is about to say something, but decides differently. She shakes her head and tells Pete an order I can’t hear.

I go back to looking at her while she fills the orders. Her pants stick to her tanned skin and the shirt that was hanging off one shoulder was making my mind think crazy things.

I don’t know how this girl was able to do it, but by just sitting here in front of me, she was able to make every single fucked up thing I thought about her vanish.

She was able to make every emotion I didn’t allow myself to think come rushing back like a fucked up tidal wave.

My hearts beats faster, my hands start to shake again. Shit, I can’t do this.

I can’t sit here and act like all those years away didn’t do something to me. I can’t pretend that what she did didn’t rip my heart out and send it into a million little pieces.

I scrub a hand over my face and I let the song from the speakers above me drown out the roaring in my ears. All this time picturing her in front of me and when it finally happens, I’m nothing more but chicken shit.