Prove Me Wrong

Chapter Seventeen

Warnings: Angst, profanity

Word Count: 2000

Author's Note: Just a heads up, this chapter goes back in time a little bit! I know the chapters have been pretty linear up to this point, but I wanted to show how both the reader and Tyler reacted to what happened, so I rewinded a little bit. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter! :)

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Your throat hurt. Bad. Worse than it ever had before, you were pretty sure. Except for maybe that time you had strep and were out of school for a week.

That had been pretty bad, too.

The tears had finally stopped coming, but you knew it wouldn't be long before they were back again. Thankfully none of your family was home, so you could cry as loud as you needed to without anyone asking what was wrong. You preferred it that way, at least for now.

It was hard to believe that he was actually leaving.

Not wanting to sit with your thoughts any longer, you headed downstairs to get yourself something to drink. There was some juice in the kitchen leftover from when Carter had decided to surprise you with breakfast the other morning, so you poured out a cup and took a seat at the dining room table. It hurt a little to swallow, but it still tasted good.

You heard Carter before you saw him. He was whistling as he shut the front door behind him and kicked his shoes off next to the door. For a moment you thought he might not have seen you sitting at the kitchen table, but his eyes met yours when he was about halfway up the stairs.

"Didn't expect you to be down here," he said as he backtracked and joined you in the kitchen. "Is Tyler still here?"

"No. He decided to leave early."

Your voice didn't sound right, so you took a long sip of your juice. Maybe Carter would think it was because of that. Somehow.

"That's a first," he smiled as he sat down. "Wait - have you been crying?"

"No," you lied, but his simple question caused you to break down again. You buried your face in your hands and tried to hold back the sobs.

"Woah, hey, Y/N," Carter said.

His chair scraped against the wood floors as he stood up again. He was at your side in seconds, lightly rubbing your back.

"Let's go upstairs."

You nodded and let Carter guide you up the stairs towards his room. He helped you get comfortable and wrapped you up in blankets. It was silly, but he used to do it when you were kids and your parents weren't home to properly comfort you. Something about the childish gesture always made you feel a little better, even now. Once you were settled in, Carter sat down in his desk chair.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"It's Tyler," you muttered. "He's leaving."

"Leaving? What do you mean?"

"His label is having him tour. He's leaving next week and won't be back for three months. I don't know what I'm going to do without him, Car."

A fresh wave of tears started to fall down your cheeks. Carter reached out and gently tried to brush them away with his thumb, but they were only replaced by new tears in a matter of moments.

"Alright, come here," Carter said.

He took a seat next to you on the bed and held his arms out. You buried your face into his shoulder and held onto him tightly, no longer caring how hard you cried. Carter just rubbed a hand along your back and held you.