Under the Influence ✔

5.

One Year Later.

White walls were my best friend, white walls knew my secrets and my fears. White walls were cold and silent, allowing the screaming and harsh words I spat to bounce back and slap me in the face. White walls were pure and sturdy, the exact opposite of my dirty, tainted, and broken soul.

For the past twelve weeks, these four white walls are the only things I have have spoken to. I don't talk to the therapist or the doctors, I don't talk to the nurses when they give me my medication and I don't talk to Bran or my family when they call.

And I sure as hell don't talk to Wesley Tucker when he visits. In fact, I don't even see Wesley Tucker. When he comes by - every day at one pm on the dot - I shake my head to let the nurses know I don't want to see him. He's been coming by and sitting alone in the visitation room for one hour, every day, for the past twelve weeks. 84 days, that's 84 hours that he's wasted on me. 84 hours of his life he will never get back, and yet, here he is - day 85.

"Luna, that boy is back. Don't you want to see him?" Alice, the day shift nurse asks, for the 85th time. She gives me the same sad look that she's been giving me for the past three months as I sit in silence, giving her a blank look as I shake my head no - even though my insides are screaming yes.

Yes, of course I want to see him. I want to see him and have everything go back to the way it was - back to when it was easy and uncomplicated, when I thought we were on the same page. But I can't go back in time, and Wes is the reason I'm here, so I won't see him.

He tried to change me, and that's the one thing he swore he would never do.

Alice shakes her head, "He'll be here until two if you change your mind, honey." As she walks away, I hear her mumble something to herself about how I'm being foolish and should at least talk to the boy.

Maybe I am being foolish, but so was he. He's a fool to think I'm going to agree to see him. He's a fool to think that I've changed my mind, that I'm cured, that I'm going to come out of this a better version of myself and come running back to him.

We spent a total of nine months together, learning about each other and helping each other forget the darkest places of our minds. We spent nine months trusting one another with the secrets and thoughts we wouldn't dare speak to another person. Nine months of our casual, no strings attached relationship, and now it's gone - never to come back.

I bite back the tears that are building behind my blue eyes and try to push the memory of him away, but I can't, and it comes back like a tidal wave.

"What are you so pissed off about, Wes?"

"You! I'm pissed about you, Luna." He runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the longer strands in agitation. He takes a step forward and I refuse to step back, I'm not afraid of him, not anymore. I've grown used to the chills he sends down my spine just by looking at me, and I've grown accustomed to the heat that consumes me when we touch. I'm no longer afraid to feel the emotions that he awakens inside of me, instead I welcome them - hell, I cling to them - because at least they make me feel something.

"Why?" My voice doesn't falter and neither does my eyes, which are locked onto his as he glares back at me. I don't know what I did to make him so upset, but he's fuming.

"Because I can't stand that you're in my fucking head, that I can smell you on my sheets at night, that I know what kind of coffee you like and what would make you laugh and what would make you roll your eyes. I hate that you're the only thing I think about and I want to write every damn song about you and how I feel when I'm with you."

At his words, my eyes get wider, this wasn't what I was expecting - not at all. I can tell what's coming next, and I don't want to hear it. I don't want him to say those three words because then this is over - we're done. Damn it, I told myself I wouldn't get attached to him, but I did. I let him worm his way into my life and now I have to let him go - he's going to ruin this. He's going to go back on our deal.

"Don't you dare say it, Wes."

"Every fucking time you're gone, I want you to come back, Luna. I look for you in every damn crowd, I can't get your laugh out of my head, and I want you even at your lowest. I'm mad because you won't fight for yourself, you're giving up and I'm afraid I'm going to lose you."

"Wes." I warn, backing away as he steps closer, his eyes full of the emotion I don't want - that I don't need.

"I can't lose you, Luna. I fucking love you too much to lose you."

And then I ran. I ran to the one place I find peace, the one place that can quiet the raging storm in my head and I overdid it - I took too much and didn't fight hard enough. I gave up. I did everything that Wes was afraid of.

He put me here. He told my parents everything I'd been hiding for so long and had me locked in this place where white walls are my only company.

I trusted him and he broke that trust.

We had a deal. We said we wouldn't fall in love, we said it was just for fun - two friends sharing their pain and drugs.

But Wes just had to go and fuck it all up.

He just had to clean himself up and try to clean me up in the process.

He just had to fall in love with the loveless.