You that I couldn't lose

head ready to end it -5

It was late, and I was high. The smoke from my joint was spiralling in the air, his eyes shooting daggers at me, only shifting when someone made their way up the stairs, smiling as they walked past. He never smiled back. Miserable fuck.

I kept my words to myself, and tried my hardest not to look his way. He was beautiful when mad, yet cold as ice.

We were sitting in the corridor of his apartment building. His back to the door and mine to the wall opposite him. At this point, the reason we had fought was gone but the anger still remained.

Two hours earlier, we were fine. Getting ready to snort some crazy shit in this random guys place. Having the time of our lives. And now we're here. Anger and hurt lingering in the air, and I suppose it's my fault. Always is.

He frowned and pulled his knees closer to his chest. He looked smaller. Soft and harmless. His chin resting on his arm and his chest rising steadily with every breath he took.

"I know you hate me," I sighed, my probably bloodshot eyes staring his way. "I hate me too." He didn't know that I was sleeping with someone else, and my intention was to keep it that way. He was mad at the fact I wasn't around. And when I was, we were either fucked out of our minds, or I just wanted sex.

The only proper conversation we'd had, was when he told me he was going to stay with his mum. In Sydney. Maybe visit his dad. I wasn't paying much attention.

"I don't hate you," his words were quiet. Almost inaudible. His pretty eyes fluttered shut and I knew he was tired. It was around 8am, and he had to help plan for their March tour that day. Meanwhile, I had to go home and sleep off my hangover. I stubbed my joint onto the concrete flooring and made my way over to him. "I was gonna ask you to come, ya know," he mumbled. "On the tour." I looked at him, his tired eyes now open. "I wanted you to be there, see me play."

"I've seen you play," I said. And I had. I'd seen him play a few times. He was his happiest on stage, singing his heart out for hundreds of people he didn't even know. The passion he had for music was amazing, inspiring.

He sighed, facing me. "It's just an Australian tour. A show in each state. A week off in between. It's not much, but it's something." I nodded. "I wasn't gonna ask, it didn't seem worth it."

"I can't go. Family."

"I know, I just wanted you to be there. Moral support, I guess." And with that, he got up and walked inside.

My heart was heavy, so I stayed. Kept my mind wandering anywhere but the thought of him. I wanted to go, I did. I wanted to watch him play all those shows. Share his secrets and memories with those strangers. But I couldn't. I was guilty of cheating, and being with him 24/7, something was bound to slip.

When I mustered up the courage, I walked inside, sitting on the bed next to his almost sleeping self.

I remember our first fight, back at the beginning. Something about me not being gay. I started it, of course. Too ashamed to admit to such things, to loving a man. He was angry, though I knew it was the same for him. Been with women his whole life, until I came along. Said there was something different about me, I felt the same.

He captured my attention, and I did his. Always thought he was interesting, his life, his thoughts. Different, as he said.

I'd never taken interest in a man before, but he was something else. He had his pride, and he was intelligent. Smart with his words, I always told him. He never let anyone take that away from him. Not even me.

-

"He's mad," I said, my fingers lacing themselves in her hair. Soft, blonde.

"Mad at what?" She asked, paintbrush swirling. I shrugged and let my chin rest on her shoulder. "What have you done this time?"

"He wanted me to go on tour with him, next year in March. His bands' headlining and he wanted me to be there, watch him do what he loves-"

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"It doesn't, and I would go, if I wasn't keeping secrets." I couldn't keep a secret if my life depended on it, not even my own.

When William and I hit the 5 month mark, I let it slip. I was embarrassed, though surprised I'd kept it between the two of us for that long. My mum was ecstatic, nonetheless.

"You ever gonna tell him?" She asked, turning away from her art and looking right into my eyes. I didn't know. Definitely didn't plan on it, but as I said, I'm no good with secrets. "I think he should know, after all, he seems like a nice guy."

"You been talking to him?" I wondered. My mind racing to the though of her telling him about us, what we do.

"No," she blurted. "I just- the way you talk about him. He seems nice."

"He is. Sometimes."

"Can I meet him?" Her eyes were hopeful, and I felt bad to have to shut that down.

"I don't think it's a good idea for the guy I'm cheating on to meet the girl him cheating with." She nodded, going back to her new piece. "What are you gonna call it?" I asked, scanning the painting.

"I don't know, something. Maybe I'll let you name it. I don't usually think that far ahead."

"You think he's still mad?"

She shrugged. "How long's it been?"

"Like eight hours. I've been keeping my distance."

"Should be safe. I mean, he'll be frustrated, who wouldn't, but he should be alright. Approachable."

I sighed and smiled a thank you, before leaning in to kiss her lips. Plump and pink. "See you tomorrow?" She nodded, sending a smile back my way.

Boy, was I fucked.

- - - -

Shitty, I know. I wrote a bunch of stuff for this and now it's all gone. So I'm kinda mad but you're gonna have to deal with crappy chapters until I come up with something mind blowing. -Bethany.