CHAINED UP

Chapter 8 | Blame Me

"What do you mean 'it wouldn't matter'?" I frown at him, and he looks back into my eyes. "You'd be focused on your work and him, so you wouldn't know about what I did."

"So you'd do it behind my back, hm?" I try my best not to frame my sentences in a wrong way which could hurt or offend him. "That's not what I said...If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even try to hold back from smoking, drinking, or avoiding my pills."

"You're doing really good, and even if you can't resist sometimes, I'm still proud of you," I give him my sincere opinion that I hope will encourage him to keep fighting against his addictions. "And for your information, I thought about you the whole time last night, so it does matter. It always does when it's about you."

He stares deep into my eyes without letting a sound out, but his lips slightly curve up, and he glances down at his food as if he did not want to let me see the reaction I sparked, and I uncontrollably smile.

"What? You don't believe me?" I force him to tell me something, and he shakes his head. "I do. I know you're honest when you say those things."

"Am I that obvious?" I chuckle and put my fork down to drink some flavored water. "To me, you are because I learnt how your body or eyes react when you lie or tell the truth."

This is probably insignificant to him, but it makes me feel some type of way, and that feels very good.

"Well, let's see if you're right then," I swallow some more water before bringing my glass down, and he locks eyes with me. "Ask me something, then after I answered, tell me if I'm honest or not."

"Fine," he plays along and clears his throat. "Do you like Matt as more than a friend?" he stares into mine, scanning every little detail about my body language for sure. "I don't."

He smiles but takes a few seconds to tell whether I was honest or not, and he peeks down at my lips. "I think you're honest."

"I am," I confirm, not hiding anything, but he goes for a second try. "Let me ask another one," he crosses his arms on the table without breaking our intense eye contact, making me feel like a serious question is about to leave his chest. "Do you like it when...I...No wait," he does not finish it but changes his mind, but I ask for the end. "When you what?"

"Nothing," he disregards it. "Did something make you uncomfortable last night?" he unsettles me with a matter I thought I could avoid as much as possible. "Why do you ask me that?"

"Just answer the question," he intensifies the nervousness inside of me, and I gulp down. "No. Nothing did."

"No? Are you sure?" he lowers his chin as to ask me to affirm my statement, and I nod. For a short moment full of tension, he keeps his blue eyes fixed on mine then brings them down to my mouth. "You're lying, and I really hate when you do."

"I'm not lying," I claim, not taking my words back. "Yes, you are, Leana," he insists as if he knew, and I cannot remain calm anymore. "There's been a camera in my room since Wednesday because I need to monitor what I do during my sleep, so I saw and heard what happened last night," he reveals something I would never have expected, and no matter what this put me in, I defend myself. "Nothing made me uncomfortable, I just tried to find the best way to stop you."

"It still doesn't change the fact that you tried to hide it from me," he points out, and once again, I explain myself. "I didn't try. I planned on telling you about it later, but I was scared."

"Scared? Why?" he frowns, not understanding why I would be. "Because...I didn't want you to know. I knew you'd be upset or try to use this as a perfect example to explain why you want me not to come when you call me. I don't want to hear that again."

"I'm not upset," he clarifies, despite what I feel and can perceive in his eyes. "But I can't believe that you still don't understand how much it fucking-"

"I don't want to talk about it now. I don't want us to fight again," I cut him off out of apprehension, feeling emotionally too sensitive for this. "We're not fighting, and we won't. I just want you to truly understand I'm terrified of who I am when I'm drunk. I don't want you around me when I am for that exact reason. Even when I was in a relationship and that I'd get drunk, I'd never do it with her around because I've always been scared, and even more now that you're here. Do you get that?"

"I do," I lean back on my chair but direct my eyes to the table to hide my teary eyes. "Then listen to me please. And I'm not blaming you or scolding you right now, I'm the one in the wrong, and I apologize for what happened, and how I made you feel, but if you keep doing that and refusing to listen, one day, something worse will happen, and I'll never be able to forgive myself."

"But I'd rather deal with that than knowing something wrong happened to you because I wasn't there for you," I lose control of my emotions and cry in front of him. "You don't, Leana. Don't say that type of shit. You don't have to be there for me. I'm not a kid anymore. I don't care what happens to me as long as you're safe-"

"But I do, and you don't understand that either," I wipe my tears away from my face. "I do understand that, but you're too blinded by what you feel to even realize the consequences this could have, and no matter how much I repeat myself over and over again, you still wanna risk us losing each other in one of the worst ways ever because of the fucking piece of shit I am."

"You're not that," I correct his horrible words I can never stand to hear. "Stop crying, Leana," he ignores what I said. "Why? You think I can control it?" I snivel and glance up at him but discern some excessive shine in his eyes. "Because I fucking hate it when you do-" his voice becomes unsteady right when he pronounces the last words, and a sharp sigh runs out of his mouth, and he leaves the table and walks up to the front door.

"You always tell me to stay close to you, to hold you because nothing else helps you, but yet, when you're sober, you tell me the opposite and think it's gonna be easy to ignore you?" I do not hold it within me anymore, but instead of talking to me, he walks out of the house.

"For fuck's sake," I mumble through my teeth but stay where I am, and I try to calm down and stop the tears.