Tyler's POV.
Releasing a long, heavy moan and arching my back, I stretch my body across the mattress, my fingers hooking into the sheets. I sigh as my back settles back down and I shuffle upwards until I find the propped up pillows. My shirt hangs over the closet door waiting for me to change into it for dinner but instead of getting up, I lean my head against the headboard, yawning sleepily as I do so. Today's spa treatments and a lazy swim with Troye have rid my body of my earlier hangover aches and now the only evidence that is existed is the calming tiredness that washes over my movements.
"How about we just order room service again? Breakfast was good- we could have dinner in bed too" I call through to Troye who is still in the bathroom. I cock my head awaiting his answer but no response comes. I sigh hoping that his silence isn't a sign that he wants to go out. A moment later Troye enters the bedroom, dressed only in a towel with his chest glistening from the shower and the sight only furthers my want to spend the night in. He looks gorgeous and I inhale deeply before beckoning him to me.
"Come hither" I say to him, enjoying the way he rolls his eyes at my summoning hand as he stalks towards me.
"Room service sounds good to me providing we can get dessert" he replies as my hands grasp at his hips and pull him down onto the bed.
"As far as I am concerned, you are dessert" I retort, grazing my lips into his neck as he falls onto me. He laughs at me but lets me continue kissing him as I move onto his collar bone. He lets out tiny, delicious whimpers as I gently suck at his fading love bite. The sound of Troye in pleasure will forever be my favourite sound and soon my hands start to explore his body, tugging at his towel, wanting to find more ways to make him sound heavenly.
"Dinner before dessert" he scolds me playfully, swatting my hands away as he stands back up. I let out a weighted sigh as he walks over to the suitcase and pulls out a pair of thick, grey sweats. My disappointed frown is soon lifted back into a smile as he drops his towel, baring his perky butt, but all too soon he is dressed again. I reach over to the bedside table, grabbing the room service menu and begin to read out our options as I resign myself to feeding Troye before consuming him.
As I hang up the phone from ordering our meals, Troye pounces onto the bed next me, eagerly asking me how long we will have to wait and expressing his 'starvation'. I shrug, laughing at him before suggesting that he finds a movie for us to watch. As he peruses the hotel's small selection of films, I watch him, enthralled by his delicate features. How I ever thought I could remain in a platonic relationship with him still amazes me. He wasn't wrong when he suggested earlier that we were fooling ourselves at the beginning of our relationship- although we had refused to label ourselves, it had been painfully apparent that I would fall for him. The combination of his bright eyes, high cheek bones and contagious smile, mixed with his raw talent, quick wit and extraordinary kindness left me with little chance of doing anything but falling in love with him. That first night that we truly discovered each other had been all kinds of perfection- both intimate and loving, and sexy and wild. The next morning I had known that I couldn't ignore it, like we had tried to with our kisses. Nor did I want to ignore it. Although I was still afraid of the distance and his young age, I knew I had to experience him over and over again- after one night I was hooked.
Looking back now, I think we both thought that if we didn't label our relationship, then there would be no pressure to repeat or not repeat our lustful night. Instead we could enjoy each other when the opportunity presented itself but not feel any guilt for enjoying others when we were back in our own countries. This had worked whilst we remained in Italy and later in England- we made the most of each other by intimately discovering what we each liked and how we worked together. Only when we returned to our homes and the miles between us grew, it became harder to convince myself that our non-labelled and relaxed approach to each other was going to work. The cute guys I met on nights out all of a sudden didn't seem that cute anymore and I spent entire dates wishing I was at home, where I could be skyping Troye. I had no idea how he was finding it, he had suddenly but understandably gone very quiet with regards to his love life. I no longer found out about the cute guy he would spot in the street and I had no idea if he was dating or not. This had both scared me and relieved me. I was worried because I didn't want to be missing out on any details of Troye's life, I was after all still his best friend but I was also thankful that I wouldn't have to pretend to tease him and encourage him to date other guys. I had wanted Troye all to myself and now as I watch him fumble with the TV remote, talking to himself as he gets frustrated at not being able to find the correct channel, I can only wonder how it took me so many months to make him mine. I snort softly as he starts bashing randomly at the remote buttons and take it from him before he breaks it.
"What film are we watching?" I ask, trying to keep in a laugh at the sight of his red, furrowed face.
"The scary one, we've seen most of the others already but I think this remote is broken" he replies. I glance down at the number in the movie booklet and swiftly find the right channel, entering in the movie code.
"There we go" I smile at him, no longer able to supress my cackle as he looks at me like I just performed the magic trick of the century. "Come here" I say, still lightly laughing, as I stretch my arm out for him to nestle under. He quickly brings his bare chest into my body and rests his head on my shoulder. I automatically bury my nose into his damp, chocolate mess, inhaling the scent of his fruity shampoo as our film begins and he brings the sheets over our cuddled bodies.
Just as the tension in the film is building, there is a knock at our door causing us both to jump slightly. Laughing at ourselves, I release his fingers that I have been cracking absentmindedly and quickly remove myself from under the sheets to go and collect our dinner.
"Mmm – this was a good call Tilly" Troye announces as I place the three dishes onto the bed and we both begin to dig in. Sprawled out on our stomachs, we continue eating and watching the film, but it isn't long until we find that the food is much better than our choice of scary movie, and instead we end up chatting rather than paying the TV any attention.
I sit up, crossing my legs beneath me as I finish my last slice of pizza. Troye is still casually stomach to sheets and happily eating. I can't help but admire the angles of his body, the way in which his shoulder blades protrude as he props himself up, causing his skin to crumple down his spine and the way in which his hips fall slack to the sheets, accentuating the subtle curve of his slight frame. His long legs are half dangling of the edge of the bed and I resist the urge to pull him towards me and into my lap.
"What changed your mind about us babe?" I suddenly ask, surprising myself with own question, but curious after my thoughts earlier this evening. "I mean when we went from hooking up casually, to being in an exclusive relationship..." I add. He looks at me with a fond expression and reaching his hand to my face, he wipes what I presume is pizza sauce from my lip and quickly sucks it from his thumb before replying,
"I don't think I ever did change my mind. I think in my head, from that first night onwards, we always were exclusive. I of course knew deep down that we weren't but I liked to pretend that we were. It was easier thinking of you as my long-distance boyfriend than thinking of you with anyone else".
"Okay" I say back him, a large smile now plastered on my face. "I remember not being able to concentrate on any guy but you and that scared me... a lot".
"You still can't concentrate on anyone but me" he says full of his cheeky confidence that I adore so much. I return a smile to him, knowing there is little point in pretending that his words are not true. A comfortable silence falls upon us as we both descend into our thoughts however it isn't long until Troye speaks, this time more sombrely:
"You surprised me when you first called me your boyfriend but I was so glad you did because I was far too afraid". He pauses to slice his fork into his dessert and take a bite. I watch his lips as he carefully chews and then swallows. "It was easier to fool myself that we were in a relationship than suggest that we actually were and have you reject it, reject me because of the distance. Or my age, I knew that bothered you too." he explains to me before breaking into a sleepy, feline yawn.
I remain quiet whilst I recall the memory in my head. Troye had been visiting me in LA and we'd gone out for lunch without any reservations. I had asked the dining host for a table for myself and my boyfriend and it took me a moment to even realise what I had called him. I remember his eyes widening, shooting me a questioning look as he registered what I had said. I also remember being surprised by my lack of embarrassment at my sudden labelling of our relationship, furthermore calling Troye my boyfriend had felt incredibly natural so instead of trying to take my words back, I had looped my fingers into his. When he gave me a gentle and reassuring squeeze- his silent way of telling me he was happy with our new label- I had breathed a huge sigh of relief.
"Why the sudden questions after all this time?" he asks after swallowing another forkful of lemon pie. I shrug at him, and explain that I've been thinking about the beginning of our relationship a lot recently, pretending that I don't know the reason for this recent wondering. I know really that it is mostly because soon we will be faced with the original problem all over again- distance. So far, last night is the closest we have come to talking about his nearing expired visa status. We had both been so excited when he listened to my suggestion and applied for his year-long working visa, that we had only focused on the good things that came with it; we had never discussed what would happen at the end of it. The idea of being separated from Troye again nauseates me. My attempt to hide these thoughts however proves futile, as Troye knows me better than that.
"It's my visa isn't it?" he whispers, removing the dishes from our bed and placing them on the floor beside us. I smile weakly at him, accepting that we should have this conversation and figure out a strategy to make the distance bearable. I pull his body over to mine, needing him to be close to me. I begin to run my fingers through his hair thinking about how hard it will be when I have to say goodbye to our daily cuddles. He curls tighter into my body, his thumb caressing my chest softly.
"We travel a lot together anyway right? It won't be too difficult" he states shakily, and I know that he is trying to convince himself just as much as he is trying to pacify me.
"You're right. We managed it before, we can manage it again" I reason, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. Again we both go quiet; contemplating the unwanted truth that this time it will be much harder to be apart. I silently recall the Skype conversations that no matter the length, still always ended too soon and the constant longing to visit him, to be able to touch him, to curl my fingers into his hair and press kisses into his skin. I remember buying his cologne out of desperation to smell him on my pillow and I remember the frustration of the scent never being quite right, needing his skin to complete the intoxicating fragrance. I had spent every day counting down until the next time I could be consumed by him, constantly missing his touch, his taste... all of him.
"Don't let me leave you- come with me" He suddenly says, bringing me out of my trance. I look at his confident expression and feel my own shrivel. My heart temporarily stops beating, before resuming in a wild, terrified pattern and I feel my face pale as I take in the words I have been dreading him asking.
"Well?" he questions, pulling away from my body, his look of confidence now one of worry.
"I can't, you -" I reply, but falter to finish as his pained face hinders my ability to form words. He stands up, removing himself from me and the bed. I manage to weakly call his name, concerned as he paces the room, running his hands through his hair.
"You said last night that you didn't want us to be apart Tyler" he suddenly snaps, his tone both angry and hurt. I open my mouth to reply, but before I can release my words, he unleashes his own hurried rant,
"You said that you didn't want us to be apart. The only way we can do that is for you to come to Australia. You don't want us to be apart. I don't want us to be apart. I've thought about it and the only thing we have to worry about is your work in LA."
His words hit me hard- panic fills my body and my stomach churns. I stand up on shaky legs and softly approach him, stilling him with my hands on his shoulders.
"Troye, I don't want us to be apart" his face begins to light up again and I silently curse myself for what I am about to say next. "But we have to be apart..." his face drops again, starting the beginning of a tiny crack in my heart. "Troye, listen to me, I can't move to Australia- you said it yourself, I have work commitments in LA. Plus there are so many career opportunities there- I can't leave.". Tears begin to pool in both of our eyes and the small crack in my heart begins to grow.
"So you're not coming with me..." Troye states rather than questions in a meek and tiny voice, as if he's trying to tell himself this fact rather than directing it at me. I cup his face in my hand, misery drowning me as I nod at him slowly- as I watch myself hurt the best part of my world. He steps back out of my reach, his expression turning stony. In the background the movie blares, confusing the words that I want but fail to say.
"So basically your career in LA is more important than our relationship! Good to know Ty!" Troye declares, now shouting. At this explosion the growing crack inside of me continues to expand, causing a dull ache in my chest.
"No. My career is not more important than you. Nothing is more important to me than you..." I plead to him, meaning every word. He shakes his head at me in response, telling me that if that were true, I'd go with him. I try to reason with him that we can make long distance work, whereas my career would not if I were to move but he does not want to hear it- deliberately not listening, unknowingly causing the crack to split further.
"When I go back, we will have had a whole year knowing and loving how it feels to have each other close at all times- starting and ending every day with each other. Do you realise how hard it is going to be, when we're in different time zones again- talking on different days to each other? It will tear us apart Tyler" Troye says, still angry and aggressively fighting back tears. I reach out to him, desperate to engulf his body into mine, to rewind this mess and have our sleepy, lazy night back but he rejects my touch. Instead he quickly grabs a jumper and leaves the room before he has even pulled it over his head. I collapse onto the bed, knowing that going after him will only make things worse. As much as it pains me, I know that letting him calm down is the better option right now.
I sit down on the edge of our bed slowly trying to process the tornado of events that just ripped through our relationship. I bury my face into the sheets, and unable to contain my tears any longer, I sob heavily and unapologetically. I feel the crack in my heart finally split completely and it leaves me feeling sick and clammy. I manage to sit back up on the bed and I fervently wipe at the tears that are spilling freely down my cheeks and dissolving at my chewed lips. I wonder where Troye has gone to and fight the urge to go and find him. I need to make this right but as these thoughts race through my head, I realise that I have no idea how to make this right. I am not sure there is a way to make this right. I have repeatedly thought about going to Australia but I know that it is not feasible- I have work commitments that I cannot just abandon, not without destroying my career. I begin to list the different ways in which I know me and Troye can make long distance work, slowly calming my fat, crystal tears.
Still gulping greedy breaths, I raise my hands to my head and tug at my hair, hurt at Troye's reaction and angry at myself. It shouldn't have gone like that. I don't know what I had expected it to happen, but any result that leaves my sweet, endearing boyfriend in pain is not a desired outcome. I try to concentrate on slowing my breathing and after a few minutes I have enough success to enable myself to get up. I walk into the bathroom and look at my grey reflection; my eyes are red and my hair wild. Feeling my throat go dry and a heat rise through my body, I quickly dive to toilet, managing to grasp it just as my stomach violently empties into the pan.
Thoughts whirl around my brain, torturing me for hurting Troye and I try to focus on something else, not wanting to be ill again. I hear the credit music begin to play as the film in the bedroom ends, but the thunderous beat only hurts my stormy head. As I lie on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, I let the refreshing iciness of them soothe my body. I am unsure of how long I have been lying here but I am reluctant to move. I close my eyes and try to drain out the nagging desire I have for Troye, he still hasn't returned and despite my exhaustion I refuse to go to bed alone. I want Troye here. I need Troye here. I need his soothing touch to calm me and more importantly I need to see him smile again, I need to be the reason for his smile again.
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