#— ✧ ❝ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮. ❞ thread: ezra levi.

[kindfair]

he's a mean drunk when he's in a bad mood, and he'd bombed his first attempt at a sober show so bad he wanted nothing more than to drown in a bottle. margo had been there, by his side as she always was, saying all the right things that would make a good man calm down. they do little for him, but rattle him more as he downs the bottle of whiskey, and throws the idea of ever really going to rehab to the wind. ❝ i hope i never get sober, and i hope when you think of me years down the line, you can't find one good thing to say. and i'd hope that if i found the strength to walk out, you'd stay the hell out of my way ! ❞

@thcheartbeat liked this for a lyric starter.

[kindfair]

she's right. he doesn't mean a single goddamn word, he aims to wound her, to bend her so far she snaps and leaves. to make sure he was alone, truly alone, and free to spiral in everyway he pleases. he's always pushing and pulling. begging her to leave, over and over again, until she does. and then he's on her knees, begging her to stay. it's a never ending cycle, one that he hopes to break one day.

but today, it seemed was not that day. ❝ what the fuck are you crying about ? isn't this what you wanted ? ❞ he taunts, even though he knows very well it's too cruel. he lets out a dry laugh - like it's either that or crying himself. ❝ that fucking loser up on that stage, that's who you want me to be ? ❞

the atmosphere hung thick in the air the whole day, and margo just knew the night would end in tears and puke on her dress — broken glass and words that couldn’t be taken back. she’d had high hopes that the show wouldn’t end in disaster, that ezra wouldn’t storm off the stage and immediately reach for the bottle, but those hopes were quickly crushed in the palm of his hand the moment he was downing the whiskey with the kind of reckless abandon that scared her to death. before her mind can tell her otherwise she’s stepping in front of him, wrapping her hand around the bottle and looking into his eyes with a silent plea.

“you don’t mean that.. i know you don’t mean that.” the words come out in a pathetic whisper, and before she knows it she can’t stop her bottom lip from trembling. here she was again, picking up the pieces for the hundredth time. she’d lost track a long time ago.

[kindfair]

❝ 𝐢 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐢'𝐦 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠… 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥. ❞ / @thcheartbeat !

all she's done is love him, genuinely, truly loved him, and he'd done nothing but repay her kindness with suffering. he'd done just about every horrible thing he could to her — he'd betrayed her trust a dozen times over, from telling things he'd been told in confidence on stage, to taking women home with him when on tour. he didn't deserve her forgiveness, and he certainly deserve her understanding. and she deserves better, better than a man so far gone he's capable of so much harm.

❝ margo... ❞ he can barely hold himself together as he says her name, and he finally shows some emotion, tears starting to prickle in his eyes. ❝ i can't keep hurting you like this. this is over, it's going to stay over until i'm clean, until i can be the kind of man that can make you happy. ❞

[kindfair]

❝ i’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡. ❞ / @thcheartbeat !

he feels like a fucking idiot, and a failure too, while he's at it. he'd been doing great, a whole damn year clean — good enough that he felt he could handle a party in the hills. sure, there'd be temptation all around, but he was stronger now, wasn't he ? he he'd learned to say no, and he'd apply that the moment someone offered him a drink or a bump. only he was a fuck ton weaker than he thought he was, and he'd bended by the third time someone offered him a line. the guilt is almost instant, and he's faced with the choice of fucking up even more to make it count, or running the fuck out of there.

he chose the latter. he thought of margo, trusting him enough to let him go to the party to begin with, waiting at home for him. and he realized that she mattered too much to him to fuck up again, that all he wanted was to go home. he wanted to crawl into bed with her and apologize a million times over, but he couldn't do that if he didn't make sure he wouldn't do this again. ❝ i'm sorry, honey. i came back upstate and they wouldn't let me use the fucking phone until now. ❞

[kindfair]

❝ 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬. ❞ / @thcheartbeat !

ezra had always had a special talent for fucking things up. and it wasn't any different when it came to his relationship with margo — he'd fuck up a little more every time, then beg for her forgiveness, move mountains for her mercy, then do it all over again. he can't remember how many times he's promised to change, to be a better man than the one he already was, and failed to provide any follow through. and still, she'd stuck around — the one constant in his life, the only thing almost worth as much as the stage to him. he knows he can fix this, he can just leave it, and get the help he needs, and then she won't leave — so then why can't he bring himself to do it.

and normally, he'd be crying by now, begging her to stay. but not this time, he can't keep making the selfish choice and claim he loves her. he can't expect her to sit around and wait for her next fuck up, he can't keep feeling better about himself at the expense of the woman he loves. ��� maybe you're right, kid. you could find a guy actually worth your time. ❞ he responds, and he can feel himself shatter inside with each word.

[kindfair]

he can't help but move forward and hold her in his arms for what feels like the last time. he holds on tightly, and tries to commit this feeling to memory — how good her hair smells, how right she feels in his arms, how ashamed he feels to have hurt her. he takes every little detail in, and he knows he'll haunt himself with them every minute he's apart from her. a part of him wants to take it back, to tell her to stay, that he can change with her around. but he knows he won't, that he's said it a dozen times over and not done it.

losing her is the only catalyst capable of making him fight to be better. the need to earn her back the only thing that would motivate him enough to change his ways. ❝ i love you so much, kid... ❞ he whispers, breaking into a loud sob.

the tears in her eyes began to stream down her cheeks, her lower tip trembling as she looks at the man she loved tell her that it was over. done. he can barely told himself up and it makes her chest ache. no matter how many times he had crossed and betrayed her, her love for him had never faltered. she’d stuck by him through thick and thin, but never did margo think that she’d hear those words fall from his own mouth. her hands are quickly wiping at her eyes and she’s shaking her head slightly, taking a few steps towards the door before she’s turning around to face him one last time.

“call me when you’re sober and not a moment before, you hear me?” she’s never been so stern with him. she’d been docile and soft spoken, going along with his every whim and cleaning up the mess metaphorically and literally each time he’d fucked up.