Chapter 99
Mireya
Play - What About Us by Pink
Ultraviolence
Why is he always here?
Why is his presence suffocating when I was trying so hard not to fall again. Not to fucking relapse in it…
Why is he always fucking here?
I hate the way it feels. I hate that my heart reacted to the way he tried to push Ethan away because he knew I was trying my best not to fall back on this again.
He wanted to apologize, offering me the exact thing that he hates about me. And I almost accepted it. Because Ethan is the same fucking stupid young boy I met when I needed to lose myself.
But I hate even more the way Damien is looking at me right now, with exhaustion in his eyes. Exhaustion from seeing me like this. Because it’s not something I can give him.
I can’t give him a better version of myself.
Broken people don’t unbreak to be loved properly.
They don’t even believe they can, even if that’s all they want.
It hurts even more when someone stays and still looks like they’re already losing you.
And hell, I wish I could disappear slowly enough that it wouldn’t have to hurt him every time he sees me.
Even after his lies, he never let me down, and it breaks my heart to not be able to hate him enough to push him away.
His voice snaps through the air and space between us.
“What is wrong with you?! Why are you so self-destructive?!”
My breath catches, small and stupid, like my body forgot how to stay steady for a second.
My fingers tighten against my chest. I can feel my throat close slightly, almost choking from his questions.
His gaze doesn’t move. It stays on me too hard, trying to force something out of me I don’t know how to give.
And my first instinct is to look away.
I don’t know… leave, don’t look at me like that. Not you.
“Why are you still here?!” My voice bursts with violence, because if I didn't scream, I would cry. “I told you to leave!”
“Yeah? And you think I’m just going to walk away after what I just saw?!” He’s angry. Furious, actually. But I am too. I’m angry with myself. I always have been. Isn’t that obvious enough? “Do you think I can just turn around and pretend I didn’t pull you back from that again, Mireya?!”
“That’s exactly what you should do!”
“No!” His voice changes, it’s broken and I loathe it. “That’s exactly what I can’t do for fuck’s sake…”
I step toward him, trying to push him out of this space, out of me. I can manage when I’m alone. I always can. It’s only when he’s here that everything starts to slip out of place. “Walk away. Like you should’ve done from the start.”
His jaw tightens and he doesn’t listen. He cuts the distance between us in one step, and suddenly there’s nothing left between us to hide. “You don’t get to decide what I should’ve done.”
“Don’t—don’t do that!” I point a trembling finger at him. “Don’t stand there and pretend you know what I feel!”
“Then say it clearly.”
“Fine!” A dry laugh escapes me. A broken, and pathetic laugh. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want you in my life. I don’t…” I stop, because it sounds false and he senses it immediately. “I don’t want you, Damien.”
Please hate me and leave, save yourself.
“…You’re a terrible liar,” he whispers, confident in his answer.
“Oh, I’m the liar now?” I chuckle, looking away from him. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“You want to talk about lies, Mireya?” His low voice rises. “I lied to you because I wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this in the first place!”
Answer, Mireya. Say something. I freeze slightly, no words are coming out of my lips.
And him… He continues as his hand lands violently on his heart.
“I shouldn’t know your name outside the fucking class.
I shouldn’t be here watching you fall apart like this.
I shouldn’t have to pull you back tonight! ”
“So leave, please leave!”
“I TRIED!” He yells like he doesn’t care about being heard or seen. “I tried to stay away from you and it didn’t work!”
I can’t… I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to push him away anymore.
He runs his hand over his agitated face. “You think this is easy for me?” His eyes meet mine, sad and worried. “You think it doesn’t make me sick every time I realize I’m already too involved to walk away from you and whatever the fuck this is?”
And that’s when I do what I do best. Defensive response.
“That’s none of your fucking business Damien! My life is none of your fucking business!”
He smiles sadly almost, his voice softens like he’s tired of yelling for me to accept it, “Everything about you is my fucking business are you blind? Are you fucking blind Mireya? Can’t you see how sick I am when you’re near me and I can’t touch you?
When you’re fucking smiling and my heart softens like it never did before?
Do you truly believe I’d let you drown in whatever pain you’re feeling and not care about it ? ”
“Then stop.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can!”
“No.” Honest… too honest. “Because you mean too much to me and it’s too fucking late.”
I want to cry, to leave him standing there until he hates me enough to abandon me like I deserve to be. “I didn’t ask for this,” I say quietly, almost to myself.
“Neither did I.”
“Then why are you still here?!”
He looks at me for a few seconds, and when he finally speaks, all I can focus on is the way his eyes are begging for me to accept that he won’t stay away. “Because I can’t stand the idea of you alone in this state.”
My fingers curl at my sides, then loosen again like my body can’t decide what to do with itself.
I shift my weight back half a step hoping that the distance might fix something that already slipped too close.
My gaze drops for a second, and I shake my head once, before deciding to be honest. “You came into my life, you lied, you— you made me—”
“Made you what?”
The next word comes out like a bruise. “Weak.”
He takes a step forward before replying,“No.” A hand lands on my cheek. “I made you feel safe.”
“Same thing!”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is for me!” Say it. Say it and don’t look back. “Do you have any idea what it does to me when something actually feels safe?!”
“It scares you,” he says softer this time.
I look away, not wanting to focus on the feeling of his heat piercing my skin.
“I want to hate you! Do you understand that?! After everything, I should hate you!” A nervous laugh escapes me.
“You feel like something I can’t remove.
Like you’re inside my system and I can’t—I can’t get you out without tearing myself apart. ”
“Then stop trying to cut me out of you like I’m the enemy.”
You are. Damien Caldwell is the most dangerous addiction I ever had to fight and the biggest enemy my heart had to forget. But he will never understand that.
“I grew up to be a very cold soul after everything they did to me, Damien. And you will try for a long time to understand it but you won’t be able to grasp half of it.”
“But I want to. You can’t control what I feel about you, Mireya. That’s not how it works.”
“I hate you. I hate you,” is all I can say, over and over again. I hate myself. Until the last sentence comes out in a broken voice, “Why can’t I hate you?”
This is stupid. I’m falling in love with someone who can clearly see how I see myself, and it’s terrifying. I shove at his chest, once, then twice, harder every time and he still doesn't step back. Doesn’t even shift properly. It’s like my hands hit a stone.
His hands catch my wrists before I can pull away again, he doesn’t say anything, nor loosen his grip. He doesn’t interrupt or look away. He keeps holding me there, close to him.
“Is my pain attractive to you?” My voice breaks mid-sentence. “Is that why you’re still here…why you keep trying to take care of me?”
I pull against him again, but it doesn’t change anything. My strength feels pointless against the way he’s holding me.
“I trusted you,” I say, breath catching. “You lying fucking asshole.”
His grip doesn’t loosen, as if he’s absorbing every word without giving me anywhere to put the weight of them. My vision blurs before I even register it properly. Tears come, frustrating because it hurts, it hurts so fucking much to love someone.
I didn’t know it would be this painful.
“I’m scared to lose you,” I say, quieter now, the words slipping out before I can stop them, “and you’re not even mine. You can’t be mine.” My forehead presses into him for a second. “It sucks,” I add, barely holding myself together.
I pull back enough to see him again. He still doesn’t speak, he’s still holding my wrists, still there.
“Doesn’t mean I want you any less, Mireya,” he whispers softly after a few seconds.
“You’re trying to fix things you can’t even comprehend,” I say, and it comes out smaller than I meant it to, like I’m running out of fight mid-sentence.
His hand pushes mine deeper onto his chest, engraving it to him. “I never needed you to be fixed for me to stay.”
My eyes meet his, and I reply confused, “That’s the thing. I am not your problem, Damien.”
“Then be my problem.”
My fingers slacken slightly in his grip. “What?”
“Be my problem, Mireya, be it and I’ll take care of you loudly.” He pulls me closer as his arms tighten around me. A hug. He’s hugging me. That’s when I let it out. I melt against him. The tiredness, the hate, the pain… “Stop fighting me for one second,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
He lets go of my wrists slowly, like he’s choosing the exact moment I’m allowed to exist without him holding me there. And I step back, but I still feel him too close, like my body hasn’t fully caught up to the fact that he isn’t touching me anymore.
I’m still angry. It hasn’t gone anywhere. It just sits there, heavy and useless, because he’s not reacting the way I want him to. He’s not leaving, he’s not…disappearing.
He looks at me for a second, then leans in close enough for me to hear it through the noise in the background. “We’re not done,” he says quietly. “And I know you’ve still got more to say to me.” A pause. “But not here. Get in the car.”
Students are coming out of the bar behind us, laughing, spilling into the street like nothing happened. Yeah, so… Not here.
I look back at him. He’s already waiting, like he knew I would understand and I follow him.