27. Chapter 27 #2
“You’re awake…” I acknowledge the obvious, like a dumbass, as I anxiously run my hand through my hair.
I’m sure it’s a fucking mess. I didn’t even look in the mirror before I came in here.
Lance’s eyes follow the movement, a little smirk starting to peek out, before quickly looking back down to my face.
“I thought that’d be obvious,” he replies before looking back down at his book. I watch him while I stand by the coffee maker, taking this rare moment of stillness to admire him. He tends to shy away from my attention, but his anxiety seems to turn off when he’s reading.
Lance is always beautiful. Those delicate features that borderline on feminine drive me insane.
The way his dark lashes flutter with every blink and contrast his bright blue eyes.
The way he pulls the barbell in his tongue between his teeth when he’s being playful or deep in thought.
Even when he looks exhausted, like this morning, he’s just as alluring.
His eyes are puffy and a little red, so I’m positive that he’s been crying recently.
“You’re near the end of the book?”
When he turns his attention to me, I can see that there are tears lining his eyes. He pinches his lips between his thumb and forefinger as he nods to answer me, trying to avoid getting choked up.
“I know,” I offer with a somber smile. “It hurts.”
He pulls the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand before nodding at me again. “Yeah,” he whispers. “It does.”
He turns away from me, staring out the window at the sunrise.
The sky is beautiful this morning, a pale orange with bright pink swirling through the rays of light.
I dig my phone from my pocket, flipping it to silent before stealing a picture of him with it in the background.
Warmth fills my chest as I stare down at it, deciding to change it to my background.
I put my phone down and look back up to find him staring back at me quizzically.
It’s hard, being like this with him. I feel the chasm between us like it’s a living, breathing being.
It takes up all the space and prevents us from really reaching out to each other.
Even when he’s right there, less than twenty feet away from me, it’s like he’s a hundred miles away.
Don’t get me wrong, I understand why. He’s keeping it there as a safety net, and I don’t know how to convince him that it’s okay to let go of it now.
That I’ll be here to catch him this time.
“All the good things in life hurt a little bit, don’t they?”
He stares back at me, only glancing away when the coffee maker finally beeps. I turn around to make myself a mug, lost in thought.
I didn’t think that earning Lance’s trust again would be simple.
In fact, I expected it to be difficult. Or rather, for him to make it difficult.
I thought that us being stuck here together would make it a little easier to connect with him again, but he hasn’t been very receptive so far.
We’re supposed to be expecting Maven and Ollivander tomorrow, and I haven’t really made any progress with him.
He did apologize for the way he acted after everything blew up, but none of that would have happened if it weren’t for the shit that I did.
I just want to go back where we were. Nothing feels right when we’re apart.
I want to talk to him about what actually happened, how it didn’t feel like a friends with benefits situation to me anymore, and I didn’t know how to communicate that with him.
I didn’t know how to tell him that I wanted all of his attention.
That I wanted him, all of him, for myself.
In my apartment and outside of it. I was so tired of hiding us from everyone, and I didn’t know if he wanted the same things I did, so I wasn’t sure what to do.
I was scared that I was going to lose him if I said anything, and because I was a coward, that’s precisely what I did.
I lost the only person I’ve ever really cared about.
“I think that it doesn’t really matter whether the subject is good or bad.
The deciding factor is how we feel about it.
Death is inherently bad, but if someone that’s suffering finally passes away, many would consider that a mercy.
How attached we are to the person or situation… that’s what makes all the difference.”
I take a sip of my coffee, contemplating the depth of his admission, before resting the mug on the countertop in front of me. “And what about when we perceive something as definitively bad when we don’t have all the details about the situation?”
He tilts his head, likely coming to the conclusion that I’ve shifted this conversation toward a different situation instead of the novel he’s reading. He looks down, shifting in his seat before picking his e-reader back up.
“There really is no exception. At least, that’s what I think.
If we want transparency, then we have to be willing to give that or something else in exchange.
When we care about a person, even in circumstances where we shouldn’t, sometimes we become blinded to the bad things they do because all we focus on are the good things.
When they’re offered nothing in return though…
eventually they start to notice. That’s when the tables turn, when people start to feel rejected and hurt.
Which is exactly why I didn’t believe in love before.
People will make sacrifices when they truly love someone, no matter the outcome, and that…
I’m not really sure if that was ever in the cards for me. ”
“It is,” I blurt out without thinking. My outburst doesn’t seem to surprise him though. He glances to his phone on the coffee table in front of him before looking back up at me.
“I guess we’ll find out,” he replies before snuggling deeper into his blanket and returning to his book.