stone blue

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The soft sounds of Christmas music fills the building behind me as snow starts to cover the ground. Thick snowflakes, dampning my hair, covering my eyelashes.

From ahead of me the ocean gleams blue, frozen from all elements, and from beside me I take in baby blue eyes. His head held down, almost like he's cowering, but from me I can't understand why.

"What's wrong?" I ask, placing my hand to his cheeks, frigid from winter air. Pulling his chin up to look at me, I try to hold back any tears while I caress his swollen lips and tattered face, all because of Tyson.

He broke him, destroyed the innocence in someone I would have never thought it could be taken from.

"It's all over. Tonight's the end of all this, right?" He tells me and I look away, ashamed of everything I have put him through and continue to put him through. He grabs my face, angrily and pulls me around to face him. His face is not harsh like I would have assumed, but soft and I think I might be dreaming.

"I can't just say no to him, Tyson's not someone you can say no to."

"This is unhealthy for the both of us and if we want this," he gestures between the two of us, " to work, then we have to go, now, today."

I know everything he's telling me is true but I can never find the strength to get up and go, even after I found out everything about him, even when I felt his fist on my skin. I could not go.

I look back at the house party ensuing behind me, the house a beacon of drugs and sex, everything wrong with my life and yet I find myself gravitating towards it all, but Louis pulls me back.

"Let's go, Pipes. This will be the only time we can. You know that."

"I know that, I do." I say, grabbing a hold of his hand and squeezing.

I wish I had listened to him, if only we had run off together that night, leaving our toxicity behind. He would be with me, in this room besides Tyson.

I would be lying in bed next to him, our legs finding eachother, our breathing sycronized, eyes finding unchartered territory, loving each other like we always had but physically couldn't.

My life would be perfect.

Instead I'm here, with my head shoved between my legs as the sun creeps through the window of our motel room.

Tyson, sound asleep, his chest exposed and hair, splayed over the pillow.

I want to cry, but nothing comes, no tears or dry sobs, only anger and fear and I find myself slipping from bed, grabbing my shoes. I cringe at the sound of the keys in my coat pocket jingling and turn to see if I have woken him up.

He tosses around in bed but stays sleeping and I pull the sleeves up my arm, opening the door and stepping out into the crisp air, my breath hitching immediately.

Pulling the coat around my body, I start to descend the metal stairs, my shoes clinking on every step.

I reach for my phone, sitting the pocket of my coat but come up empty handed.

I walk to the office, pushing the door open with my back, and slipping inside. A man wearing an old vintage bowling shirt stares back at me, couting bills in his hand.

"Can I help you?" He groans, sliding the till to the side. I step forward, looking back at my hotel room.

"There's a man in my room." I tell him in a hushed voice, "he killed my boyfriend."

He eyes me, cocking his head to the side, " Didn't you turn in here with some guy? You don't need to be starting any trouble, alright?"

I toss my head back, looking back at the room, the door still closed.

"I know, I'm not trying to do anything. You have to listen to me, he shot my boyfriend and threw the gun away, and he's holding me hostage. You have to call 911."

"And why didn't you?" He questions ne, and I can tell by the look on his face he thinks I've lost it. How couldn't he? My face is smeared with mascarra, my hair is an unruly sight and I can garuntee you my eyes are bloodshot from crying and over-exhaustion.

"I couldnt. Not in there."

"You need to go back to your room." He tells me.

"Listen!" I yell, slamming my hand down on the counter top. "You're not listening to me!"

From behind me I can hear the gutrenching jingle of the door opening and before he can speak I turn to him.

"What are you doing in here?" He asks. His legs have found themselves in new jeans and his torso is naked.

"Looking for the ice machine." I lie.

"You shouldn't leave the room, Piper." He tells me and holds out his hand for me to grab it. "Let's go back." I look back at the man, his eyes now set on his money again and finally take Tyson's hand.

"We have to go, now, today," Louis words ring through my skull, deafening me.