I still love you | Maylor fanfiction

42

I laid down on the bed, on my back, gazing into Brian's beautiful eyes.

The sound of a belt buckle being opened woke me up from this beautiful dream and I shot up to sitting position, covered in cold sweat immediately, shaking and panicking. The image of the guy who broke into my house that one night and of all the things that he did to me suddenly appeared right in front of my eyes. I remembered it all perfectly, obviously- it wasn't something which could be easily forgotten. But all my memories were so clear, it felt is if I was living through it again.

I inhaled sharply, looking around and revealing Brian sitting right next to me. I was with him. I was safe. Everything was alright.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, between gasps for air.
"It's alright," he assured me silently, wrapping his hands around me in a comforting warm hug. He understood. "I love you."
"I love you too," I replied silently, my eyes watering as I blankly stared into the wall.
Because of everything. Every single thing I've ever regretted in my whole life. All the stupid mistakes I've did, all the times I've let myself be lurked down from the path, all the times I just kept on messing up my life, leading me up to here, alcoholism and finally drugs.
And once again, I found myself asking, what have I become?

————

I woke up to the the horrid sounds of someone coughing and vomiting. I sat upright gasping for air in surprise, my eyes wide. I felt normal. Finally, I really did. I could see properly, I could hear properly and most of all I actually felt my body and could move actively. Thanks god, the hallucinations were finally gone and I felt normal again. Well despite the horrid headache.
"Brian?" I called, getting out of the bed and walking towards the bathroom in our shared room.
"Yeah?" Came groggily from behind the closed door.
"Are you alright?"
"Guess."
"May I come in?"
"Well if you want, I won't-" he hiccuped, "be stopping you."
I gently pushed the door open, my gaze falling on the tall lad folded next to the opened toilet lid.
"Hey," I said with a sad worried smile as a wave of sympathy waved over me.
"Hey," he smirked, leaning his head against the wall, terribly pale with bags under his eyes.
I fell down to my knees, wrapping my hands around him softly.
"Oh my poor Brian," I mumbled.
"Why do I even drink?" He groaned. "Ugh, it's just disguising."
I chuckled sadly. "You're right there," I stroked his hair with my fingers and he flashed me a beautiful smile of his. "You know what? I'll go and make you some tea."
"That would be lovely," he got out of himself."
"Alright," I kissed his cheek and got up, making my way to the kitchen. But as soon as I stepped out of the door of the bathroom, my stomach made a loop and nausea hit me out of nowhere with the same intensity as a brick wall. I stopped, all the color disappearing from my face, my stomach swirling.
"Okay maybe not," I turned around. "Clear the toilet!"

————-

It was the night of our last but one gig on this tour. I was sitting in our dressing room in the backstage, frowning, and a nervously tapping with my foot on the floor. I've had my three shots of vodka and a can of beer. I was sure it was enough. I wasn't nauseous, my head wasn't spinning and I wasn't sweating in panic. But there was still something. I still felt this weird kind of nervousness inside me, my mind unable to concentrate on a single thing. I kept on rubbing my hands, my throat sore and tongue itching. Was I ill? No I sure was not. I felt completely healthy just- there was something missing.
My mouth was filling with saliva as my mind flew to that one thing which's taste I was missing and desiring so much. I don't get rid of that box.
No. No I couldn't. I don't need it. Just no. That was not an option.

My eyes flew up to the clock on the wall. We should come up at stage in about ten minutes. The second hand of the clock was moving dreadfully slow.

I gulped, wiping off sweat which started forming on my forehead.
On the other hand, it would only be tonight. I would never do it again. After the tour ends, I will get a therapist or a doctor and- no. No. No. It's not an option. No. Never. I promised it to myself.

I inhaled deeply, leaning over my knees and staring into the ground, desperately trying to push all of the despicable thoughts out of my head. But this need was torturing me. I couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop realizing how much I wanted to take it.

Just for today. Never again. There were only two shows left to the end of the tour. I will then get rid of it.

I jumped on my feet, stepping into the aisle in front of our room, which was fortunately empty and I could be alone for a little while. I reached into the pocket of my jacket, pulling out that box. I don't even look at it, I just opened it as quick as possible and took one pill out before shoveling the container back into my pocket. For just a second I saw the bright yellow color before the pill made its way down my throat.

dRaMa

you're welcome. I know you want it.

Excuse me, my dirty minded amigos (ehm, roysi, ehm jAiNa) I ain't writing no smut