I'd been skulking outside of his room for an hour now, and the irony of that situation weighed on me like a ton of bricks.
I glanced at my phone for the fifth time in a row. The time showed 00:07 which was two minutes later than the last time I'd checked. I knew he was still awake by the dimmed sound of music and the occasional shuffling I heard inside.
My hands tightened around the two cold bottles of beer I was holding. Drops of water slipped over my fingers. I didn't mind the sensation. My nerves were making my hands sweat anyway, at least this way I could blame it on the beer.
Honestly, it was the only peace offering I could think of though I wouldn't blame him if he just spilled it all over my head. I didn't exactly know what he liked or disliked other than Cheetos and beer. So, I had no idea how I could possibly cheer him up or make up for that word vomit I'd spewed on him.
But, that didn't mean I wasn't going to try.
Taking both bottles into one hand and hoping I won't drop them, I took a deep breath. My heart was thrumming, erratic inside of my chest as I raised my hand and knocked.
I tried to steel my nerves expecting to hear just a fuck off.
The seconds felt like hours until he finally spoke and I let out the breath I'd been holding in anticipation.
"Come in." My heart skipped a beat at his words. His voice was tired and slightly muffled through the door but the words were a clear invitation.
He was willing to see me which was a good sign, right?
I opened the door cautiously, and took a step into his room. My eyes were wide and I carefully observed my surroundings as if I was about to approach some dangerous wild animal. Which, technically, wasn't that far from the truth.
Maddox was lying across his bed, two empty beer bottles on the bedside table next to him. His right forearm was covering his eyes and the room itself was barely lit, so I couldn't exactly gauge his expression. Perhaps that was for the best.
Instead of focusing on him I quickly surveilled his room. This was the first time I'd actually stepped within the natural habitat of one Maddox Carter, and it was... surprisingly normal.
I wasn't sure what I expected to find. Probably something that looked more like a sex dungeon, with at least one sex swing and several whips strewn about.
In contrast, his room was disturbingly normal. His desk was tidy, and organized — another reminder that Maddox clearly took his work and study seriously. There was an electric guitar next to his desk which I hadn't even known he played. There were a few socks tossed on the floor along with one pair of pants, but that was it. It wasn't even as messy as I had expected. The only sign of his booming sex life was an unopened box of condoms on the bedside table.
At least he was staying safe, I guess....
It unsettled me, knowing how wrong my prediction of his room had been. It brought up questions on how much else had I wrongly assumed about him. Questions that I then quickly buried.
The silence in the room was becoming deafening.
I racked my brain for words, unsure of how to start this conversation.
"I thought there was no running away during an argument." The words came out of me in a torrent and I bit my tongue. This probably wasn't a good time to bring up one of the two rules he'd made, but to my surprise the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly.
"Yeah, my bad," he muttered but made no other move. Soon, even the slight smile had disappeared from his lips.
"I-I bring a peace offering." I tried again, feeling an intense urge to scream and punch something. Most likely myself.
I hated seeing people in pain. I hated it with a burning passion. The only thing I hated more than that was seeing people in pain after I'd made them feel that way and then not knowing how to fix it.
I just wanted to fix it.
He removed his arm and briefly glanced at me. I held out both of the beers and tried to put a smile on his face.
After a moment, he nodded, "Thanks, I could use another," he said and then slid himself to the right side corner of his bed before tapping the left side. A motion that obviously signaled that I should go sit there.
The thought of sitting on Maddox bed made my skin crawl and a shudder run through my whole body. Had it not been my screw up that got me into this mess that would have been the point at which I'd have boarded the Nope Train to Fuckthatville.
Instead, I took excruciatingly slow steps toward his bed, feeling like I was walking down Death Row.
When I reached his bed I could see he had a small smile on his face. "You sure took your sweet time," he commented before reaching for his beer bottle and taking a large chug.
I followed his example and took a large sip of my own beer, hoping to gain some liquid courage.
Sitting down on the very edge of his bed, I crossed my legs and turned to face him. He was staring up at his ceiling, the upper half of his body now upright and leaning against the headboard.
"Maddox, I'm sorry." The words just started spilling out, "I'm so sorry for what I said. It was so inconsiderate and I didn't actually mean it—" I was speaking way too fast, before he raised his hand to silence me.
"It's fine, Aimee. I'm not mad at you. I'm also sorry for being an asshole." He muttered darkly, taking another sip of his beer.
I expected he would continue but when he didn't... I did.
"It's not, it's really not fine. Honestly, I'm just trash, just—" My voice was shaking slightly and I took another sip to calm down. And then another.
"Aimee," he said so softly it made me want to cry. "Look at me." And so I did, and my heart broke at the smile on his face; a smile I could tell he was forcing for me. "You're a lot of things, Aimee Lovelle, but trash is definitely not one of them."
I looked at him with a dubious expression and he let out a dark chuckle. "I'm serious, it's fine. I'm not mad."
I let out a sigh, my guilt changing into frustration. "Then why are you like this?" I spoke, motioning to his body and the empty beer bottles.
"Like what?" He countered, raising an eyebrow.
"Like not... yourself." The first part of that sentence my voice was uncomfortably loud but by the end there it was barely a whisper.
He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Never expected to hear that from you. Thought you hated my insulting jokes." He muttered equally as quietly and I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks.
"Yeah, well..." And then I left the rest of the sentence up in the air.
He let out a sigh and looked at me as if trying to gauge if I was for real of just fucking with him. Most of the time I didn't actually mind his innuendos and that playboy sense of humor. If we had been friends, I might have chuckled and rolled my eyes at his usual remarks. The jokes did make it very clear, however, that his group of friends was probably primarily male.
"It's just, what you said... I think about that sometimes. What my mom would think about me just being me. If she'd hate—" His voice was low and weak as he spoke, completely unlike him. At the end he swallowed hard and glanced at a picture frame on his bedside table. I could tell it was an old family photo and for a moment I wondered if I should ask about it, but now didn't seem like the time.
"She would love you." I stated with completely confidence and he looked at me with wide eyes. "What I said... I said because I wanted to hurt you which was a nasty thing to do. It's not, it's not something you should take to heart." I was surprised by my own honesty. I usually had more problem stepping over my own pride like that. But his sad puppy dog demeanour was really making me act, well, not like myself.
"But you meant it. You meant what you said." He countered as if daring me to deny that. Daring me to lie to him.
I thought about it for a few second and sighed. "Yeah, I meant it. But like you said, I don't really know you, right? So, why do you care what I think?" There was no point in lying to him. It could only do more damage.
He looked surprised by my confession before furrowing his brows. "I don't... know."
"Yeah, see? So, just, don't think about it anymore, 'kay?" I tried to keep my voice cheerful but all he did was absentmindedly nod at my words.
I'd literally accomplished nothing by talking to him. Of course, he wouldn't believe anything I said now that I was acting nice. He'd assume this was fake. The damage was done.
Unless... Unless I made this real.
"Did I ever tell you about why I decided to go into medicine?" I asked the question, entwining my fingers together to keep my hands from shaking. The guilt I was feeling must have been overwhelming because I hadn't told anyone this story, ever. I couldn't believe I was about to tell Maddox.
Noticing from my serious tone that this wasn't just another silly story, Maddox straightened and shook his head, his eyes completely focused on me.
I felt my cheeks grow red at the intensity of his gaze and took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves.
"I had a best friend in elementary school, well, she was more like a sister, really. We were together all the time, and when we weren't together we'd talk on the phone." I felt the sadness swelling in my heart as I recalled Layla. Even after almost a decade, the memory still hurt.
My hands still shook and I took another large sip of beer hoping it would steady them.
"When we were ten however, she was diagnosed with leukemia. I wanted—I wanted to help. Donate my blood cells. But, we weren't a match. She didn't—She didn't find a match in time." My voice broke as I spoke and I couldn't bring myself to look at Maddox, see his reaction.
"She died a few days before my 12th birthday." I blurted the hardest part out as if I was letting out a breath I'd been holding for far too long. "And after that, I swore I would find a way to help people, so that I didn't have to watch... watch someone suffer again."
It was quiet for a few moments after I was done as if the story itself was too heavy for words, and it probably was.
Why had I shared this? Why did I think this was a good idea? What was I hoping to—
"You're so brave." His words shocked me and my head instantly snapped in his direction. He had a gentle smile on his face and there was warmth in his eyes that I wasn't sure I deserved from him. "Not everyone can find such a noble cause in their loss." The last part he added had a tinge of sadness in his tone. "My mom died of breast cancer."
I let out an involuntary gasp and watched him offer a sad smile that didn't reach his eyes. I hated it. I hated when he smiled like that. I wanted his old smile back. The smug, amused smile that consumed his entire face.
"What was she like? Your mom." I relaxed a bit, pulling myself up next to him and leaning my back against the headboard, legs stretched out.
"Oh, man, she was a force to be reckoned with." He laughed as he recalled his past and a warm feeling started spreading through me. "She was always smiling, always cooking... She couldn't handle the thought of a child going hungry, making food for the entire neighbourhood." The way he described it sounded as if he was annoyed but his voice was full of love, adoration.
It felt nice and warm, and I couldn't help but smile as the feeling enveloped me. I asked question after question, loving the way he talked about his mom and wanting to keep him talking. He was so different than usual, unguarded, and relaxed.
I listened to his story and the comforting sound of his voice, until the world faded into black.
Hi lovelieees,
So, what do you think of the new chapter?
I really enjoyed writing it which could be evident by the fact that it's slightly longer than my usual chapters.
And yes.... she did fall asleep at the end there. 😱 What does that mean for the next chapter? Huehuehue, you'll see.
When I'm done with this story, I'm going to do a few one-shots or novelette or novella (who knows!) from Maddox POV, so that will be FUN. Only once I'm done with the book through, cause spoilers. Would you guys like to read this? 👀
I hope you have a lovely day, and stay safe! <3