Bite My Tongue (Oli Sykes Fan Fiction)

Hell Won't Have Me

"Will you do the interview before the show tonight?" I asked Winston. 

We were sitting in our small living room area on our bus. It was way better than being stuck in a tiny little van like I was on the last tour, but I did my best not to think about that tour if I could help it. It only made think of Oliver who I haven't heard from since I confronted him last week. I spoke to the others almost every day but they never brought him up. They kept all of our conversations geared towards the tours and the shows.

"Yeah, no problem. What's it for?" He asked, opening a soda that was in this strange refrigerator type contraption, but it wasn't quite the same thing. We were in London tonight and a small, local interviewer from some website wanted to do an interview with one of the band members about traveling to different countries and how different the shows were. I felt like it was an interesting topic but I didn't think it needed its own interview for one topic. Oh well, that part at least, was not my job.

I was about to answer him when the bus door slammed open and Winston and I both looked up immediately, wondering who the hell would be coming on the bus. To my surprise, it was Oliver. He looked like he got more sleep, the bags under his eyes less prominent. He was still incredibly skinny and frail looking, though. It scared me, seeing him so sick. It wasn't the way I remembered him at all.

Before I got a chance to ask why he was here, Winston spoke first.

"What the fuck are you doing here, man?" He asked loudly, and it was slightly intimidating, but I think that was his point. 

Winston has grown quite protective of me lately, even though I insisted I didn't need it. He knew how badly Oliver hurt me, and he didn't want me to go through that again if he was just coming here to fuck with my feelings.

"I came to talk to Anne." He answered, very quietly. It sounded like he lost his voice. It was either that or he had been crying which I highly doubted. Oliver may have been upset at what I said but I don't think it hurt him that much.

"No you ar-" I cut Winston off with a nothing but a look. I didn't need him scaring Oliver away. 

I meant what I said when I told him I wouldn't be in his life if he was going to keep using, but I didn't want to completely cut him off just yet. I at least had to give him a chance and maybe he was coming here to apologize. I wasn't too confident that that was the reason he was here but I wanted to know for sure and Winston was about to ruin it for me.

"Winston go to your bunk. I want to talk to him, too." I ordered. 

Winston gave me a look but followed my instructions anyway. He would be able to hear almost anything we said anyway, so if anything went wrong he could help me. I knew he was just worried since he knew how bad I was without Oliver in my life back in Philly. 

"You can sit down." I said to Oliver, motioning for him to sit next to me. I didn't want him to think I totally hated him, because I still loved him, but he needed to know that I was serious the last time we spoke.

He took a deep breath when he sat next to me and looked me dead in the eyes as he spoke. "I want to get help. I'm willing to stop using." he said. At first I was shocked, not expecting him to make this decision at all, let alone so quickly. I didn't know how to react or what to say. I sat in shock.

"O-okay, um, what do you want me to do? To, uh, to help you?" I stuttered out. I didn't know what else to say. I knew that if he was doing this that he wanted me back in his life and just the thought of that brought butterflies to my stomach. I wasn't going to get ahead of myself though. I didn't want to get my hopes up again only to watch them crash and burn in front of me.

"Well, here's the thing." He started. My breath caught, afraid of what his condition might be. "I am willing to stop for you, Anne, but only if you're mine again. I went crazy without you, and I don't want you to just be in my life in passing, or just as a friend. I want us back and I know you do, too because you are still wearing that necklace." He said, pointing at it, but we were sitting so close that he was nearly touching it.

I couldn't breathe. He wanted me back, he just told me that he wanted me back. I've spent the last year convincing myself that he had moved on and wanted nothing to do with me but now I'm on a tour bus in London and he's telling me that he wanted to get back together. 

A part of me wanted to scream "yes" and kiss him and take him back without question, but another part of me - the smarter part - told me to hold off. I was only here until the end of November. That was less than a month and I would have to go back and it would be the same problem all over again. I mean, this time I was more willing to make an attempt at working it out with distance but was it worth all the pain? Could I really do it? I didn't really know what to think.

"Oliver, of course, I want to take you back, too. I've been killing myself over you leaving for a year, but in a month I go back to America and we are back in the same boat as before. I really don't want to go through with that again." I told him honestly. 

I knew that out of the millions of reasons that I could think of as to why this is a bad idea, this was the only one that really mattered. It was also the only one that I think Oliver could really understand me being afraid of and maybe he was afraid of it too.

"I know and I don't want to do that again. It's been a living hell for me without you. So if you did want to work it out and we got back together, I would come back to Philadelphia with you." I almost wasn't sure that I was hearing it right. He spoke slowly and clearly but I wasn't sure that he really just told me he would move to another country with me. For me.

It was a huge step, and in getting back together so quickly, I didn't know what to think. I was afraid that in the month I was here everything would be fine but when we got to the US things would go downhill. What if he got too homesick and wanted to leave? What if he realized he was missing out on tons of fun with his friends here and wanted to leave? There were a million and one reasons I could think of that would make sense for him to want to come home and never step foot in America again and I knew if it happened there was nothing I could do about it.

"That's, Oliver, that is a huge, huge, decision." I started, but before I could start to list all the things that could go wrong, he started speaking again.

"It is. I've been thinking about it all week. When we left I always told myself if I ever saw you again I would follow you back and never make the mistake of leaving you like that again. I love you and this is worth it to me." he said. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when I heard him tell me that he loved me. Oliver just told me he loved me.

"I love you, too, but I don't know, Oliver. It's a lot to take in right now, we just met again for the first time in a year last week and now you want to move across the world for me? I don't know." I was breathing strange and I couldn't keep my thoughts straight.

There was no way that he was being serious. I could believe that he wanted me back and that he wanted to fix things but to move to America? To come and be with me in Philly, leaving his home behind was insane. I know that I could never leave my home no matter what, why would he do this for me? Did he really love me that much? What made him decide that even though we haven't seen each other in so long that it would be worth it to drop his whole life like this to come be with me? For all he knows I'm not the same person I was a year ago and he could completely hate who I've turned into. I couldn't believe this.

"I understand. Just think about it, okay?" He said. 

I didn't get a chance to reply before he kissed the top of my head and exited the bus. As soon as the door shut I threw myself back onto the couch and made a very loud, frustrated, screaming noise.

Winston came out and looked at me, but I was kind of seeing him upside down. He didn't say a word but I could tell that he heard everything Oliver said to me and everything I said back. I didn't want to talk to him about it, so I put my arms over my eyes and screamed again.

Boys are fucking confusing.