Blue
Fuck.
Every bone in my body shuts down except for my feet that carry me over to the door. I curve my hand around the door knob and begin to open it, to chase after her, and kiss her, and ask for another chance, and to beg for her forgiveness when I don't deserve her in the first place, but I don't have the heart to do it. Instead of making this shitty situation any shittier, I take a step back and contemplate what the hell I am doing before intensifying her hatred toward me. Even thinking she despises me makes my chest hurt and my head fuzzy. But, then again, that could be the high I'm floating on, have been for the past forty-eight hours.
Going after her when she's this irritated would only result in one scenario: my head on a stake. Not literally, but I'd rather it be literal than her scowling at me like she just did before slamming the door in my face, for the second time today. To be fair, I did the same before I left, but she crossed a fucking line, then. I barely did anything wrong. Sure, I left her for a few days, but it wasn't like I stayed away for a month or something. She went through my shit and had the nerve to be mad at me because I wouldn't tell her what Amanda brought me. When she forgave me and gave us another chance, I was so fucking excited, so over the moon. But just because we are a couple, that doesn't give her the right to demand to know where I am or what I'm doing; I didn't agree for her to interrogate me all the time.
I shift my focus from her disappearing act to the present. I'm hungry as hell and I may as well watch a movie while she walks around town, contemplating what she should do with me, before coming back home. I love Lily with all that I have and more, I'm willing to do anything for her. And I know she feels the exact same way about me. We piss each other off, we make each other feel whole, and we're not right for each other, but that doesn't stop us from defying societal standards. If it came down to it, I would eagerly be slayed for. And no matter how much she seems done with me at the moment, I know she will forgive me, because you forgive the ones you love.
Where ever she is going, she will be back.
I'm delightfully surprised to find my favorite dish, lasagna in the fridge. My heart aches at the image of Lily cooking it for me that first night I was gone. The pain intensifies as I imagine her watching TV and wearing one of my shirts, waiting for me to walk through the front door. I pull out my phone and contemplate calling her, to ask for her to come back, but I can't. She left. She wanted to go, so I'll give her space and let her think before coming back home. It's already been five minutes. I give her another half hour before waltzing through the door, demanding me to explain myself and kissing to makeup.
In the meantime, I'm hungry as fuck and the bite I take of the cold dish is delicious. I warm up a huge slice—nearly the whole fucking pan—and grab a can of beer and walk into the living room. I take note of how the floor shines and there's not one speck of dust on the TV or coffee table, or anything really. Even the wall of windows is spotless and shiny. Did she get on one of those rope things outside the building and clean them? I wouldn't be surprised, she loves to clean. I'm pretty sure she does it as a 'fun' activity. Of course, she considers cleaning as a pastime.
I queue up Netflix and click on the first thing that pops up, a show called How to Get Away with Murder. Unease winds through me. I have no idea what this show is about, but the title makes me nervous. She couldn't possibly be angry enough to plot my murder... right? No—no, of course not, she loves me. But that doesn't stop me from squirming as I watch a few episodes. I'm so confused by what the hell is going on and how the writers could jam pack these many plots into every episode, but it grabs my attention and has me on the edge of my seat. It'd be even better if Lily were next to me, scolding me for making commentary and laughing when I should be silent, trying to hide her beautiful smile behind my arm, but she'll be here soon enough.
By the time I finish watching three episodes, the front door hasn't opened, and I'm no longer calm, I'm heated. Annoyed. Where the hell is she? It's fucking negative ten degrees outside and most businesses are closed. Where could she have possibly gone? An image of her stubborn-ass shivering on a park bench crosses my mind, and I growl. If she's this determined to 'give me a taste of my own medicine' then I'll have to cut her crazy fantasy off right the fuck now. After turning the TV off, I grab my keys off the hook by the front door and call her phone, but it goes straight to voicemail.
"I get it, you're angry at me. But it's been two hours. You can stop hiding and come out. Where are you?" I hang up after leaving a voicemail and hop on the elevator.
The lobby is empty and there aren't snowy footprints on the polished floor. I ask the landlord at his office if he saw her leave, and he shakes his head no. Useless fucker. I visit every single floor and end up at our apartment on the eighth floor. I curse under my breath and call Riley.
"What do you want, douchebag?" She answers on the last ring.
I arch a brow. "Excuse me?"
"You aren't excused."
"Okay... whatever beef you have with me, can you leave it alone for a second and help me out?"
"I would never help you, asshole," she spits.
What the hell did I do to her?
"What crawled up your ass?" I ask incredulously.
"You, you asshole. You hurt my best friend, left without a word if you were dead or alive. You made her worry about you for days, and you want me to help you?" She scoffs, and I run a frustrated hand over my face then my hair, gripping the long ends.
"Okay, look, I already apologized to her—"
"Lies," she interjects coolly.
"What? How the fuck would you know if I was lying or not?"
"Because you want me to help you with Lily."
"Listen, I just need you to tell me if she's with you at the dorms? Or if she called you two hours ago." Hopefully she can be less of a loyal friend for one split second and actually be helpful.
"Okay, let me think." I'm shocked by her willingness to help, but so relieved.
"Thank you," I breathe out.
After a few silent seconds, she deadpans, "I won't help you," and then hangs up.
I stare at my phone for a second and squeeze it so tight I think I hear a crack splinter through the screen. Honestly, was I expecting her to be of any use? That was stupid of me on my part. Now I'm back to square one. I would call and ask Finn, but I have a feeling he'd react the same way. Why do all of her two friends have to be so devoted to her?
But I won't give up, not this easily. I catch the elevator and go up a floor. I hear the faint music and loud voices before I even step off. I follow the sound to a door near the end of the hallway. I don't even bother knocking and find it's already unlocked. I push the door open and step into the dim lit apartment. The first thing I see are people sitting on the floor and on couches and chairs, all staring at the TV screen. The overrated show Stranger Things is playing. There have to be at least thirty people here. Someone laughs and everyone else follows suit and there's a hush of conversation in the kitchen.
What in the utter fuck is this?
"Who wants more popcorn?" a guy says and walks into the living room. Is this some sort of sleep over for people who haven't grown up past ten years old?
A chorus of me's make me cringe and turn away. But then I recognize one of the girls leaning out of the shadows to wave the popcorn guy over, what with her long braids and brown skin and—
Wait a fucking second...
"Riley?" I say loudly, and she freezes when she finds me through the dark.
"Shit," I hear her mutter.
"What the fuck? What are you doing here?" I step through the people sitting on the floor, possibly stomping on someone's phone, but they don't cry out, so they won't know until the morning, and am stopped from demanding answers when the popcorn guy holds his arm out, stopping me from shaking the devious girl who blatantly lied to me.
"We're trying to watch a show. Chill out and grab a beer—"
"Aren't you that Dylan guy?" I sneer and narrow my eyes. I'm slowly but surely piecing this bizarre scenario together, and I'm not liking the image being painted in my mind.
He smiles. "Blue! I almost didn't recognize you in the dark. And it's Declan—"
"Yeah, I don't give two fucks." I push past him and step over hands and bags of chips to stand in front of Riley, ignoring all the complaints and shouting. What are they upset about? The show isn't even remotely good.
"Could you move? You're blocking the TV." Riley tries shooing me out of the way.
"No, I am not moving until you tell me what the hell is going on, and why you are here," I demand. I have half a mind to plug out the TV, throw it out of the window, and interrogate both her and Dylan to find out where my fucking girlfriend is.
But before she can give me more crap, there's a familiar small gasp behind me. I don't need to turn around to know it's Lily.
I slowly face her and watch her eyes try to avoid mine. She's standing in front hallway, wearing that fucking cardigan that perfectly highlights her curves and cleavage protruding from her tank top. I barely held myself back from ripping that thing off her and fucking her against the door before she left, and now that Dylan is right beside me looking at her with admiration, I want to put a damn cloak on her and hide her away.
"Of course, you fled to this motherfucker for a goddamn slumber party!" I shout and receive hushes. I just roll my eyes and focus on her folding her arms across her chest, trying to appear angry with me.
"It's not a slumber party; it's a get-together," she lamely explains.
"I don't care what it is, we are leaving and we're going now." I stomp over anyone in my path. I can't believe I've been looking for her and waiting for her, and all this time she's been up here cuddling up to this asshole watching a shitty TV show. This is absolute bullshit.
"No, I'm not going anywhere."
"You wanna bet?" I say sarcastically.
Dylan slides in front of me, holding his hands up defensively with a stupid smile. "Hey. Why don't you step outside and take a breather before making a mistake you'll regret?"
"Get the hell out of the way before I make you," I threaten.
"Blue," Lily gasps.
"Stay out of this!" I glare at her over his shoulder, then move my eyes to the prick standing in front of me. "You, too. This has nothing to do with you. Mind your goddamn business and move out of the way." I have no problem beating him unconscious as long as he gets out of my fucking way.
"Stop this now." Lily walks around him and takes my hand. "I'm sorry, Declan, but we have to go before he lashes out, once again. This was very fun, and I hope we can do this again."
"This will not be happening again," I say, raising my voice.
Lily offers an apologetic smile before dragging me out of the dark apartment. Once we're outside, I begin to scold her from going to that lame party, but her small hand covering my mouth shuts me up for the entire ride down the elevator. She only ever removes her hand when we're inside our apartment. But she doesn't give me the time of day as she storms into the bedroom. I follow right behind her. I am not letting this go; she's insane if she thinks I will.
"What in the hell were you thinking going to hang out with that motherfucker?"
She doesn't acknowledge me as she hangs her cardigan up in the closet.
"Hello? Am I talking to a wall here?" I wave my hands dramatically.
She finally looks at me as she's pulling her jeans down her legs, but still doesn't say anything.
"Answer me, Lily!" I shout.
"Why should I?" she screams even louder. "You left me in the dark for two fucking days, and you except me to spill my guts about where I went? You were annoying me, so I left. Isn't that the same reason you gave me? Where did you even go? What did you do? You won't tell me, right? So why should I tell you why I left, where I went, and how I feel? How is that any fair?" She pants at the end of her loud rant, tears streaming down her face.
"Lily—" I begin quietly.
"No, do not 'Lily' me." She quickly silences me and walks around the bed to point a finger at me, jabbing it at my chest. "Don't... for two days—two fucking days I have been waiting for you to come back home. I was worried about you, and you didn't even bother to answer your phone. You didn't reassure me that you were alive, I thought you left me for good. And for what? Because of a mysterious girl and a fucking bag? I don't even care about it or her anymore, I just want to know where you went and how you could possibly think it was okay to vanish like that."
I stay silent and watch the tears stream down her face. I am a dick. Plain and simple. No ifs ands or buts about it. I didn't think she would be this distraught, otherwise I would have sent a text that I was fine. Seeing her cry and feel this hurt literally pains me to witness. I want to punch myself in the face because she's absolutely right. If I were her, I'd stop giving me chances and kick my ass out, but she isn't leaving again. She isn't kicking me out of the room and locking the door, because she's Lily Lockheart. She loves me, and she'd be damned to not get answers and stick around.
I take her small hands in mine and sit us down on the bed. She sniffles, and I move one of my hands to push her hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry," I say honestly. She blinks rapidly, clearly surprised by my apology. "I should have never gotten mad at you, you did nothing wrong." I take a breath and dive into explaining everything. "The girl that was here—her name's Amanda, and she's nothing but a grimy girl I used to hang out with and fuck on occasion." Lily winces, and I quietly apologize for my crass wording. "She's Hunter's sister and she brought me... drugs."
"What kind of drugs?" Lily asks, sniffling.
"Weed, some... coke. But I swear I only used the weed, I'm not into that other shit, but she didn't know and brought it anyway." I watch her shoulders sink in relief.
"Where have you been for the last two days?"
"With a buddy that isn't a total asshole, his name's Mark."
"Why didn't you just tell me that instead of leaving and not answering my calls or texts?" She tries her hardest not to raise her voice, but I hear it clearly.
"Because I'm an asshole and I tend to not think about others, especially you, because I have this mentality that you'll always stick around but... but if I'm not careful. If I don't stop to think about how you'll react and feel, I could lose you, and I would lose my freaking mind if that ever happens. I need you, Lily. I really, really need you in my life. I don't know how I'll cope if I were to live a life where I wouldn't wake up to your face, or act like I'm still sleeping when you go out on your morning rungs."
She cracks a smile, and it's the most beautiful thing to date.
I push my thin boundaries and bring my palm to the side of her face. She hesitantly leans her face into my touch, and I smile. "Will you please forgive me?"
"I don't know..." Her voice is soft, and she looks at the ground, emotions conflicting beneath her eyes.
"I'm sorry for leaving you and not replying to you. I thought I didn't have to tell you anything, but I would lose my mind if you'd done the same thing. I kind of did two hours ago when you left. I can't imagine not knowing where you are and how you're doing if you were gone for days on end. I truly am sorry, I don't want to be a dick to you anymore. Just give me one more chance, even if I don't deserve it."
And I don't deserve it. Instead of staying and listening to how she felt, I packed a bag and left without answering any of her thoughtful calls or concerned text messages. I saw every one of them and either left her go to voicemail or act like I didn't see her texts. It was a dick move on my part, and I will never do anything like this again. I tend to self-destruct. I've been trying not to fuck things up with her, but sometimes I can't be normal.
I say a silent prayer as she blinks and quietly chews on her lip, thinking. I often wonder what and how she thinks. Does she weigh every possible scenario running through her head? Contemplate how fast she can pack her bags before I hug her and beg for her forgiveness? Or is she just stalling to give the answer I am desperately hoping for? I caress her warm cheek and trace a heart on the back of her hand, waiting and hoping.
"Okay..." she says so softly, I'm unsure if I hear her right?
"Okay?"
"Okay," she repeats, fighting to hide a smile.
"Thank God—"
"Only if you promise not to pull something like that ever again," she adds in a warning tone.
"I promise... I fucking swear to never leave you again. It was so stupid of me. Why would I leave when I have you?" I say, and she can't fight her blush. I wipe away her tears and whisper, "I love you, Lily, so much it hurts me sometimes, but it doesn't stop me."
"I love you more than anything," she replies and it's such a lovely sound.
I know I'm on thin ice here, but I can't hold myself back any longer. I close the gap between us and press my lips to hers. I missed hint of cherry and feeling her soft body against mine. She starts to groan in protest, but I move one of my hands to her hip, the other holding her hair, and her protest turns into pleads. I smile and kiss her gently, softly, appreciatively.