boyfriend | t.h.

part eight - the end before it begins

Friday came and all you wanted to do was lay in bed, just like you had been every other time you came back to the apartment this week. You could admit you felt a little better since your fight and you slowly started to forget some of the details, but thinking about it all over again made your face heat up, your heartbeat faster and you'd pull the covers over yourself again. It wasn't because you were stuck on Tom, but you were upset with yourself because you were thinking back to every time you'd messed up. The light at the end of the tunnel was something you thought you weren't worthy of, feeling that you'd screwed up so much with your life.

Once 9PM hit, you brain wanted you to stay up even though you were mentally and physically exhausted. You'd barely had full meals, trying to avoid drinking a lot of liquids so you didn't have to get out of bed, the smell of your dry shampoo started to make your stomach turn from how strong it was with every coat but you still rather be in the state you were than becoming clean and better, that meant getting out of bed. It all lead to one thought, "What's the point?"

Your dry eyes stared up at the ceiling, studying the texture of it while your hands gripped around the top of your sheets. You'd been trying to count from a hundred, hoping you'd fall asleep but you'd gotten into the negatives, knowing you could probably get to a negative thousand by the morning. As you got to -128, your phone buzzed by your left leg and your heart skipped a beat, as if you were snapped back into reality.

You hesitated to answer, but it could have been your parents freaking out that you'd hadn't called this week. So you bring your phone screen up to your face, seeing it was Bradley. You squinted your eyes more, the screen becoming clear and you read, "Picking you up at 8 tomorrow."

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit, rubbing your eyes to make sure you read it right. You protested through text to him throughout the week that you didn't want to go to a party. You wanted to be left alone, but Bradley wasn't the type of person to accept "no" as an answer in the least respectable way. He wasn't going to stop, so you just told him "okay" for the sake of him not literally pulling you out of bed.

You had to act normal now. As if your conscious was the puppeteer, tugging at your strings to lift your heavy body out of bed and walk you to the bathroom. Once you got in there, you looked into the mirror and didn't even know the person you were staring at. She looked exhausted, her hair was a mess and the mascara she put on today was smeared around her eyes.

You didn't know this person, not one bit, but it didn't matter.

So you went back in bed, dreading tomorrow and turning over, hoping you could just sleep through it. But, it came the next time you opened your eyes. The afternoon sun in your eyes, the sunlight brightening your room and revealing the disaster around you. Clothes thrown on the floor, plastic snack bags littered around and a handful of glasses on your bedside table. Drawers were left open, your makeup scattered all over your small vanity and shoes kicked off, nowhere hear their matching pair.

"Y/N?" Haley's voice came from nowhere.

You didn't respond, but instead rolled over to not face the door.

She came in anyways, but you didn't care. Haley looked at the mess, but you ignored it and closed the door behind her. She cautiously walked over, standing by the end of your bed and placed her right hand on the bed frame.

"I just wanted to check on you.." She said, sounding muffled from under the covers.

You still didn't say anything.

"I know that.. You want to be left alone, but.. I just want you to know that I'm here for you."

You didn't want to believe it.