Sometimes you
speak before you think.
Maybe I should've
considered more on the
thinking part than the speaking
part.
Because as of right now,
this is a moment where I regret
my choice of words, but
become stupefied by the
regretfulness since this is
how it should all plan out.
This needs to happen, doesn't it?
sooner or later, he'll get shooed
out the door, no longer welcomed
in my life.
Or so I told him in the beginning.
Now this slight anger building
inside of me, because
of the thought that he
found someone new way
too soon.
Before I could even
bat an eye to another person
that captures my interests.
This whole undesirable
anger is pretty laughable at
the moment, since if I recall
correctly,
I wanted this to happen.
So tell me why instead of shoving
him out of my life with all the strength
I can muster to do so, I'm clinging
onto the hem of his shirt for him
to stay just a tad bit longer?
Was it my longing for simple company?
Was it still the same excuse to
rub it in a twitch streamer's face
who reeks with envy?
Or is it something yet to be
unknown to me? Something
that I'm in constant denial for?
Something we both
didn't expect happening from
a mile away?
A scoff is what I finally hear from the variety streamer, shoulders slightly shaking from quiet snickers. He replaces my fingers that are holding onto the beanie with his, tugging it up a little more where a fringe of jet black hair starts to fall over his eyes.
"I gave you no name! Do you have any idea who it is?"
I wish I could list a few people off the bat, but it's kind of impossible to do so when Alex always reassures his viewers that any girl he communicates with are just friends and don't dream of being anything more than that.
A facial expression that has 'I'm gonna pull your strings just for the hell of it' written all over appears on Alex, a index finger touching my chest to indicate the next words are directed towards me as if I wasn't the only other person in the room.
"What if it's you?"
It could've been a sentence he knew that would throw me completely off guard. For the sake of giggles and scoring a priceless reaction out of me, but I gave nothing for what he tried to fish out for.
Everything is blurt out nonsense.
There is no genuine feeling
behind it.
He's pulling my leg.
That's what he does. I'm
dealing with a guy who
thinks he's a comedian online.
All the remarks and teases
are spoken by the language
of sarcasm he uses 24/7.
Alex loves getting
a big reaction out of people
for entertainment purposes.
I spend too much time convincing
myself that it's all harmless
jokes, that I never glance at
the path where he's possibly spilling
honest sober thoughts.
"Very funny." I reply but with nothing that threw out that I found it humorous, a stoic face displaying on my features as I find a spot next to his legs to let my worn-out body relax.
Brows begin to knit together by the response that left him puzzled, now resting his palms on his stomach that ever so slightly rise when breathing.
"You're not laughing, I'm not laughing." Alex begins, also seeming to grow quickly tired from the position he tried settling with for a moment, starting to lie on his side with knuckles digging into his cheek to keep his head lifted.
"So do you think I may be joking?"
It's so unexplainable, but I do wanna shake my head like mad to be convinced that he was never pushing my buttons from the start of the night. If he wasn't under the influence, how many outcomes would this dumbfounding confession have on hold for us?
If I never pestered Alex to take one gulp down of vodka, would he still find himself being in control of his face inching closer by the second to mine? Would we still observe all our little flaws in silence that we could both agree on that it was soothing to do so?
Would I sit tight through it all as I be hypocritical to my stated boundaries?
"You're drunk—"
"Cállate, por favor cariño." The black haired boy starts with a fed up tone, but it gradually softened by the innocent nickname that was disguised as a weak apology for the abrupt attitude.
"I'm not even sure why I suggested it may be you, okay?" The speech of his became slower when saying, taking notice in his eyelids half closing like it's becoming too heavy to lift up. A new position the third time being made, but to be more cozy for planning on slumbering Los Angeles' luminescent moon away. Prayers have been answered just of right now, he's beginning to feel heavy-eyed.
"But it felt right."
⚠︎︎⚠︎︎⚠︎︎
The sunlight found it's way to shine through the thin curtains, the gleaming light causing my eyes to flutter open as my vision gets time to adjust my surroundings.
I'm met with a quiet snoozing Alex beside me, finding him laying flat on his stomach with his arms wrapped around a pillow, head turned to the side which he would've made immediate eye contact with me if his sleep was interrupted.
My realization has finally hit by taking note on how close our faces are together, beginning to scramble off the bed in the process of nearly losing my balance.
A nearby mirror exposes that I'm still wearing the outfit I picked out to wear to the party last night, along with the now smudged makeup that was left forgotten on cleaning it off.
My hair doesn't look it's best either, but had no time on making a disgusted face by it as I see my phone on the dresser lighting up with incoming notifications by the second.
Before I start to continue my search on his alt account to find anymore drunk tweets that took place last night, my ears pick up a low groan on top of items falling off the bedside table, assuming Alex is searching for his phone with still shut eyes.
I let my gaze fall upon him, seeing a hand shot up towards his forehead instantly when Alex grits his teeth through the unwelcoming wave of pain.
Ah, Hangovers.
Rubbing in a circular motion like that's gonna make the pain shoo, he uses his other free hand to block the bright sunlight that gives him light sensitivity.
I make a guess that he doesn't have a single clue on anything so far, and to be honest with myself I don't either.
I could only collect some vivid memories before the night became a total blur, wondering what ever happened to the both of us while I was in the middle of listening to him speak free of things on his mind.
I could only assume right after he got finished speaking, Alex soon after passed out which left me in silence to sink in his blurted out confession.
But to my observation of how I woke up this morning, I didn't seem to dwell on it too much as I quickly wasted no time to sleep like a baby right after him.
Before I could offer water to help ease his headache or the newfound desperation of morning thirst, a question beaten me to my sympathetic action.
"What happened last night?"
♡︎
Omg besties,,,,
did I just update???
Yes, yes I did. IM NOT
DEAD OKAY.
In response to some
people's frustration of
how y/n didn't take the
chance to kiss Alex last
chapter, please keep
in mind he was DRUNK.
He's under the influence,
and even if he wanted that
to happen with a sober mindset
it's still not okay to take
advantage and encourage
drunk behavior.
I can understand where your guys frustration be coming from though, since I consider this book to be a slow-burn and you really want things
to pick up it's pace, but the kiss
can happen when them two give consent ☺️
But!! As per usual, tell me your thoughts on this new chapter :)
luv reading your guys feedback
and opinions.