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seventeen.

‹ 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 ›

My heart pounded, propelling me upright in bed—a familiar onslaught of sweat–soaked clothes, stifling heat, and an inescapable tightness in my chest. It was the same dream as always.

It always was.

Pushing myself out of bed, my body ached, and I stumbled in the fog of my still-drunken state. Blinking, I fought the haze as it gradually dissipated before stepping out of my sweaty clothes, opting for a fresh pair of sweatpants.

The return of Max and the boys brought an indulgence in drinks—lots of drinks. Afterward, they retreated to their rooms, leaving me alone with a half-full bottle of whiskey.

My eyes flicked to the now–empty whiskey bottle on my desk.

A soft groan escaped my lips as I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyelids, attempting to curb the growing headache. The night before replayed in my mind—an endless loop of my hands trailing Piper's waist as I circled her on my bike, her hands wrapped around me as I drove her home.

Give the girl a chance.

Cyrus' words were a mantra, an echo that followed me.

You can't punish yourself forever.

Inhaling deeply, I let the comforting burning sensation of a cigarette wash away lingering thoughts, leaving just me, the smoke, and the buzzing haze in my head.

Half–aware of my actions, I stepped into the hallway, taking lazy drags from my cigarette as I made my way through the dark house. A figure emerging from the garage had me stopping in my tracks, watching her carefully.

The light in the kitchen flicked on, illuminating Piper, absolutely covered in paint as she poured herself a cup of coffee before settling into one of the island chairs. She looked radiant, her eyes shining despite the early hour, her fingers tapping against the counter as she nodded along to whatever song played in her headphones.

I watched as she wrinkled her nose, disgust marring her previously peaceful features as she turned her head, meeting my gaze. Her eyes widened slightly, and despite her best efforts to quell her expression, the distaste lingered in her gaze.

She pulled her headphones off, the slow song faintly audible as she sent me a smile.

"Sorry," I couldn't stop the words as they escaped me, and I made quick work of snubbing the cigarette before crossing the room, and stepping into the kitchen. "I forgot."

Piper nodded slowly, a surprised glint in her eyes as she studied me. "Did you just apologize to me?"

"Don't let it go to your head," I mumbled, leaning against the counter. "I'm drunk."

Her lips twitched, and she brought her mug to her lips, taking a small sip before speaking. "Right."

"Right." She didn't speak again, her eyes roaming over me carefully. "How's the painting?"

"The painting?" She repeated, raising a brow.

I motioned towards the paint that covered her. "Looks like a fucking mess if you ask me."

"No one did." She retorted, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

I couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at my lips. "Fair."

She took another sip of her coffee, and the room fell into a mostly comfortable silence, one filled with tension and unsaid words, but a silence nonetheless.