#But would you seriously deliberately smash a vase on the floor and then have the audacity to say that the vase just wants to --

[crystalkleure]

That whole “If someone is doing something that is hurting you, you need to communicate that to them instead of just expecting them to read your mind and know that something is wrong” thing is indeed solidly good advice, but what are you supposed to do when you encounter a person who immediately responds to you saying “Hey, you’re hurting me” with “HOW DARE YOU TELL ME WHAT I CAN AND CANNOT DO AND SAY TO YOU, YOU MANIPULATIVE GUILT-TRIPPING CUNT”

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Sixteen

Previous Chapter Here

Warnings: Language, scenes that are NSFW, angst, slightly annoying people

Tags: @kelbabyblue​ @jennmurawski13​

Notes: I am so sorry for being rubbish in posting this. I started writing it weeks ago and then work took over my life. Thanks for sticking with me and I hope this was worth the wait (somewhat).

Chapter Sixteen

“So, what do you want to do now?” Audrey asked, hands firmly planted on the Diner table in front of her. She had the same careful posture and look on her face as when she had to relay bad news to a family. It certainly wasn’t providing much comfort now. 

She tilted her head to one side and offered a soft smile to try and assuage Sarah’s anxiety but it was no use. This kind of information wasn’t deserving of a casual reaction. She’d pretty much dropped a bomb on her friend and she was expected to deal with the fall out. To Audrey’s credit, though, she appeared to be taking it in her stride which was a bit surprising to say the least. 

“Honestly? I have no idea.” Sarah shook her head despondently before her forehead connected with the table. 

Three Days Earlier… 

The convenient thing about being a nurse and working long and tiring hours, Sarah found, was that you almost always had the perfect excuse for getting out of plans. Or not replying to messages you were deliberately avoiding. “Sorry I didn’t reply earlier, I lost track of time” quickly becomes an acceptable code for “Sorry I didn’t reply earlier, I didn’t have a clue what to say.” 

No one would ever dare call you out on it. 

It had been almost a week since Sarah had arrived home and the questions from her family had yet to subside. For someone quiet and relatively lacking in a desire for attention, people sure did have a vested interest in her whereabouts. They wanted to know about the exam and when she was likely to hear the outcome. They wanted to know what would happen next and whether she could appeal it if she didn’t like the results. They wanted to know whether she would try again or if she was just happy doing what she was doing now, and please can you call your grandmother because she wants to hear about it, too. 

She was exhausted. 

But dealing with those messages was an absolute dream compared to messages Chris was sending her. She could copy and paste generic responses to all of the above but with Chris? That was going to take some more thought. 

Chris: You’re so pretty. I miss your face so much x 

Chris: …..And so many other things x 

Chris: It’s not the same waking up without you x Chris: Do you remember me waking you up last week………? 

Chris: Did you pick up my sunglasses?? I cant find them anywhere…….. 

Chris: Just found them! Duh! 

Chris: Have you seen the Last Week Tonight? I think you’d love this one……. X 

Chris: I’m thinking of getting a dog x 

Chris: Can you just tell me ur OK so I can stop worrying?

After coming home late one evening following a long shift, she found herself face-to-face with the most beautiful array of flowers she had ever seen. Sunflowers, glorious white roses, gerberas, tulips, peonies… Truly, indescribably beautiful. 

“Someone sure is popular.” Shanna called from where she was sat at the dining table. “They got delivered earlier today. I don’t mean to be a bad feminist but you should probably think about putting out for Greg ‘cos if you don’t, you can let him know that I am definitely up for it.” 

Sarah side-eyed her friend and tried to locate the card in amongst the substantial spray. “I can’t remember the last time someone bought me flowers that wasn’t my Dad.” Shanna barked out a laugh as Sarah pulled the card out, recognising the handwriting instantly. 

I really miss you x

Now she felt bad for her lazy response to him earlier that afternoon. The second-hand embarrassment was creeping up on her after she tried to casually allay his concerns with an “All good!! x” and regretted the double exclamation marks. That was bound to give the game away. 

She regarded the flowers standing proudly on ceremony and waiting for her to smile at them in utter joy so they knew they had done their job. They deserved that at least, but all she could manage was a sigh and a somewhat reluctant smile at their glowing beauty. 

“I mean there’s certainly no denying he likes you a lot.” Shanna crept up behind her and narrowly missed Sarah scrunching up the card in her hands. “You don’t buy flowers like this without making your intentions clear.” 

“Who says he has intentions?” Sarah playfully jostled with Shanna. “This isn’t Downton Abbey.” 

“Oh, come on!” Shanna regaled in disbelief, running her fingers over the large, open sunflowers. “You can’t fool me, Bernette. These are statement flowers if ever I saw them. He wants you baaaad.” 

She walked back into the kitchen and Sarah could hear her locate and clang the only two vases they owned in the apartment. Neither of them had much need for vases and even if they did, one thing that made them good flatmates was their mutual distaste for needless crockery lying around the place. Neither appreciated dusting as a chore; it was much easier this way. 

“Fuck. I’ll have to ask Mom to bring one over.” Shanna said. “We’re gonna need more to cope with that.” 

As expected, Chris was pretty proud of himself. She couldn’t deny him that as he saw the flowers blossom in and around her apartment. He had popped by under the premise of annoying his sister for the evening but flirtatious glances across the lounge gave away his true intentions. 

“You should be flattered, I don’t normally do flowers.” He joked when he sidled up next to her in the kitchen, tossing an apple back and forth between his hands. 

“You don’t “normally” do anything.” 

“Not true. I once sent a girl a peace lily that came in that nice, tall glass vase. That big blue thing.” 

“Wasn’t that just to replace the one you smashed at her mom’s place when you were trying to sneak out?” 

Chris froze on the spot, staring at her. “I actually can’t remember now, was it? Scott ordered it for me.” 

Sarah rolled her eyes before continuing to tidy around him, Chris evidently deciding not to make her job any easier by moving out of her way. It was the equivalent of him lazily lifting his feet off the floor while she tried to vacuum underneath. 

“Seriously, though, did you like them?” 

“They’re lovely, thank you." Sarah moved to the other side of the kitchen as she continued to dry and place back some wine glasses in the cupboard. “You really didn’t need to do that. It was kinda hard to explain them away.” 

“What did you say?” He rubbed at the back of his neck, turning serious for a second. 

“I didn’t really say anything. She just assumed they were from Greg.” She leaned against the counter across the room from him. He could make out the worry in her eyes. “Which makes me feel like I’ve lied to her twice.” 

It was hard to sleep that night. Chris had somehow got her to agree to meeting him the next day so they could talk some more but she refrained from agreeing to meet him at his place after work. She knew how that was likely to end and she couldn’t face being with him in that way right now so he had finally relented and agreed to a simple coffee at lunch instead. He was less than pleased when he left and Shanna spent half an hour complaining through the bathroom door about his “issues” as Sarah was trying to clean up before heading to bed. 

“He’s always been an entitled asshole.” She started before ending with a one-two punch of “He’s not happy unless he’s in control” and “I wish for once he would experience being told ‘no’” She wasn’t wrong but she also didn’t need to hear just how right she was in this moment either. 

*

A couple of things happened in relatively quick succession. 

The coffee was every bit as awkward as she knew it would be, only not exactly for the reasons she had anticipated. It was times like this she relished Chris’s ability to have it all figured out and to be able to express himself clearly and succinctly, but she should have known better. As a result, Sarah was left more anxious and unsure of what it was she was feeling. Guilt she figured, not just for the knowledge that she was lying to her best friend but also for leaving the man sat in front of her looking like he had not slept properly in days. 

He cleared his throat and shifted to sit up straighter in his seat. They were sat in the corner of the diner, as always, and barring a couple of people having a relatively animated conversation a few booths away from them – relatives of patients, she figured – it was pretty quiet for this time of the day. 

“So, time to be honest but there was a reason I sent those flowers.” He had the look of someone who had just been told off by a teacher. “I sort of thought you might have seen something but I guess it went away. I think Matt dealt with it OK.” 

Sarah put her cup down and looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“OK, don’t get mad but there may have been a photograph.” He barely looked up as he spoke. “Of us at the hotel.” 

Her eyes widened at him and she was about to panic out loud until she realised where she was. “A photograph?” 

“Well, technically a photo of me and an ‘unidentified female companion’.” He deadpanned making air quotes like it was nothing before finally making eye contact with her. He frowned but she knew it wasn’t directed at her. He looked down at the table again and then back at her when he realised she hadn’t said anything. “Don’t worry. It’s sorted. I explained things. I just figured someone might have put it on social media or something but I guess I owe him one this time, which he’ll love no doubt.” 

“Oh.” She knew it was a pathetic response. “What do you mean you explained things?” 

“It looks like a fan spotted me and took a picture at the right time. For them, obviously, not for me. Or us. A magazine picked it up. You actually look a little blurry so technically it could be anyone.” 

“Unless you know me. It’ll probably be really obvious then.” 

“Well now you don’t need to worry because it’s gone away. We’ll call it one of our nine lives.” He sipped his coffee again, slowly regaining his confidence now that he knew she wasn’t mad with him. She began rubbing her temple, a predictable move for when she was feeling stressed out and he realised he’d crossed a line. “Sorry.” 

“Maybe I should seek a career in espionage. Clearly I can hide in plain sight.” She finally spoke and he smiled softly at her in a way that would unnerve her under certain circumstances but for obvious reasons wasn’t having that same effect right in this moment. 

“Trust me, OK? I know how these things play out and people forget quickly. I’ve done this hundreds of times.” He was about to sip his coffee again until he was met with a sterner look from across the table. “That was supposed to sound reassuring but I, er, misjudged it.” 

“Does Matt know about me?” 

A few seconds of silence passed between them, Chris looking slightly to his left before making eye contact with her and pursing his lips, giving her the answer. 

He leaned in and spoke as quietly as he could manage. “But he won’t say anything. He’s a good guy and he looks out for me.” \

“Yeh, I know.” She nodded. “Just doesn’t feel great at the moment.” 

“You know I would love it if you talked to me about this.” He lowered his head so much he was now practically touching the table with his chin. “I feel like ever since we got back from New York things have been really weird and normally I would think I was overthinking things but I don’t think I am, am I?” 

She turned her cup a few times before she felt his hand connect with hers. She saw how small she looked in his and when she looked back up at him, she was met with his doe-eyed expression. The expression which all you could do was smile back, which she did, and she was glad she did because he seemed to lose some weight from his shoulders at that point. His fingers lightly rubbed across hers and she enjoyed the warmth spreading across her skin and up her forearms. 

“I’m sorry,” She spoke after a minute. “I didn’t mean to cause you any stress.” 

Surprised by her apology, he leaned back in his chair. “You don’t need to apologise to me, Bernette. I get it. It’s strange.” 

“I guess I just didn’t know where things would go after, y’know, everything. I wasn’t sure what to say.” 

“Well, I know where I want things to go but something tells me we’re not on the same page.” 

More silence. 

“Look, I get it, OK? Nothing about this is straight-forward.” He rubbed a hand over his beard and over the back of his hair. “But we’re doing OK, right? I mean, I don’t think this needs to end any time soon. We don’t need to make any rash decisions just yet.” 

“But how do you see this ending?” 

She missed his hands when he pulled them back and let them rest on the table in front of him. “Umm…” 

“Because truthfully, I figured it would have ended as soon as it started. You might have got bored or maybe you got a job and you left for months and we’d just…forget about it.” She shrugged back at him. 

“Forget?” He tried to mask the disbelief creeping into his tone. “I don’t think either of us could forget about this.” 

“But you think about our lives and how different we are and even if we take the family out of the equation, like, it was always going to be tough, right? We would have to figure these things out eventually. It would be naïve to think we could carry on as we have done without feeling guilty and…” 

“I don’t feel guilty. Do you feel guilty?” 

“Well, yeh. From time to time. It’s not so bad when we’re at yours because it feels like it’s out of sight, out of mind, and-” 

“-then we’ll just have to stay at mine more.” He raised his eyebrow at her in an attempt to bring some playfulness back to their conversation. 

“That’s not what I’m getting at.” She shook her head at him. Now it was her time to pull back as her head connected with the headrest. “This isn’t gonna last forever, is it? We need to be more rational.” 

“Well…” 

“And it’s only going to get harder and feel more…stressful.” 

Chris narrowed his eyes at her. “Why now?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, where is this coming from?” he asked. “We seemed to be OK and I thought we had a good time in New York. Then it’s days of near silence and now I think you’re trying to end this but you don’t have the guts to say it out loud.” 

He had her there. She didn’t feel particularly offended or caught off guard by his assumption and he saw that because, truthfully, he’d finally put a name to her thoughts. He wasn’t giving her a way out as such but he was at least addressing the elephant she had planted between them. 

He looked away from her and took in a sharp breath. “Look, I don’t want to have this conversation here, OK? I think we should have taken up my idea and spoken about this later at mine and in private. Will you please just come and see me later?” 

He didn’t give her the softer, more pleading tone she was normally used to when he was trying to make an appeal to her. She wasn’t expecting it given the circumstances but…it would have been nice. How was she going to get through the next few hours of work if she had this struggle to look forward to? 

“Because if you’re gonna dump me, I’d rather have a whiskey in me than whatever crap this is.” He flicked his cup away from him on the table and smoothed his hand over his beard again, still not making eye contact. “I’m gonna go. Just text me when you’re on the way, yeh?” 

So that was that, then.

*

She could have cried, it felt so good. 

She didn’t intend to let things get as far as they did. She was trying to figure out what to say to him. She spent a good portion of time standing outside his front door building up just enough nerve to knock. When she saw him, in a slightly-too-tight sweater, sweatpants hanging loose on his hips, eyes glossy from the alcohol she suspected he had started drinking as soon as he had arrived home, she couldn’t help herself. 

He looked gorgeous. He looked warm and comforting and soft and hot and…all the things that had become so familiar to her now. And when he held his hand out to pull her in, she willingly went to him. 

One thing that struck her as he was entering her over and over again was how tightly he held on to her. After she had finally managed to catch her breath from the onslaught of kisses and touches all over her body. His hands held hers firmly above her head as they fell onto his bed. God knows how they managed to make it that far. 

He hadn’t let her up for air as soon as his lips connected with hers. He pulled her inside his apartment and pushed her towards his bedroom. She knew the layout of his home like the back of her hand, knowing exactly when they passed his kitchen as he dragged her jacket from her shoulders and left it by the table. She felt the curtains in his hallway brush passed her hair and the breeze from the skylight in his bathroom reach the base of her spine, his hands having pushed up her t-shirt and exposed her skin to the brief chill. His arms wrapped around her and held her like he was scared she was going to fall away from his grasp. She can’t remember connecting with anything else after that point; she was focussed solely on the way he was loving her. \

Clumsily, he used to his leg to kick the bedroom open so she wouldn’t bang into it and he got her flat on the bed with minimal effort. He carefully removed clothes until she felt his hot skin smother hers and she realised she made the right decision in just going with it. There was a sweet hint of whiskey to his breath but she didn’t much care. As he looked into her eyes, resting deep inside her, she didn’t much care for anything. This was the power he held over her.

She could tell he was thinking of something to say. Something he had probably practiced in the few hours since they last saw each other but now was coming up short. She instinctively placed her hand gently over his mouth, an acknowledgement of sorts, and asked him to move again, slower this time as he made sure she could feel all of him moving inside her. 

She was on the edge of her orgasm for a long time. His breathing grew laboured, his hot breath fanning over her face and surrounding her before, without warning, he shifted them both in one fluid move so she was lying on top of him. 

“Ride me,” he whispered, a softness belying his request, and she complied.

She gripped at his upper arms so they would hold her weight as she moved purposefully on top of him. It was bliss. She couldn’t look away from him as he struggled to keep his eyes open, taking in everything she was giving him. They had experienced a few moments like this, moments that felt so tender if it wasn’t for the way his hands were gripping her hips to keep her going. 

After they had both come together, she collapsed down over him, her head resting over the top of his chest, him still inside her. She felt sure she had accidently bumped his chin but couldn’t quite manage the energy to vocalise an apology. He wrapped his arms securely around her to hold her in place when he thought she would try and move away from him. They’d slept like this in New York and he had decided he liked it more than the alternative. 

“If that’s the last time we do this, at least we went out on a high.” he sighed. 

“True.” She replied, equally as breathless.

He turned his head to look down at her, stroking a hand over her hair and the side of her face. “It doesn’t feel fair, though. Life’s gonna be a little bit shitter without you to look forward to.” 

“We’ll still see each other. We’ll find a way to make it work.” She shifted her legs from off his before turning slightly to take the rest of her body away from his and he reluctantly let her go. 

“Do you think we can?” He asked as he stared up at the ceiling. He already knew the answer in his mind but he wanted to hear her try and convince him. 

“We have to.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

She sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across her forehead, letting it rest it in her hair. “She’s my best friend. You guys are my family. We have to at least try.” 

Chris turned to look at her just in time to see a tear form in her eyes. She gently blinked and sniffed it away not realising he had already seen. 

“You’re gonna be a hard act to follow, Bernette.”

*

“So you slept with him again?” Audrey worried. 

Sarah nodded carefully, holding one hand in the other. “I know, I know…but when I saw him I just couldn’t help it. I couldn’t pull away from him, it’s like he-” 

“Oh honey, listen, I get it. Completely.” Audrey’s eyes widened and she had to stop herself laughing. “I can imagine he’s been very supportive to you with everything that’s been going on but I think when all is said and done, maybe you both needed this?” 

“I wish it was that simple, Audrey. It’s not just the two of us that needs to consider things. Y’know, Shan actually apologised to me, saying she’d been a bad friend and that she would try to be more supportive from now on and…it hit me. It just knocked me for six that I’ve betrayed her completely and I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how to go back.” 

“It’s obvious this isn’t just sex. I mean, he drove to see you in New York and fucking…” She waved her hand around at nothing in particular. “…fucking tested you on fucking blood diseases and ECGs. Michael doesn’t even do that and I fucking married that guy! Come on, Sarah. If this was just sex, it wouldn’t be an issue, would it? You’d be able to close the book and move on. End of story. The only reason this is causing you strife is because you have feelings for each other. And very serious ones at that I might add.” 

“Ah well, that’s easy. You don’t go back. You don’t just forget the last few months. What’s done is done now and maybe there’s a better way out of this.”

“How?”

“Oh Sarah, I love you but you really are friggin’ naïve sometimes.” Audrey pointedly rolled her eyes for the tenth time since they sat down. It wasn’t something Sarah was appreciating right now, this feeling that she was continuously missing the damn point. 

If this was Oprah, the audience would be clapping and whooping loudly right now and Audrey would do her finger-snap that she reserved for drunken arguments in bars with ladies that pushed in line for the toilets. Instead, she took a sip from her sparkling water and raised an eyebrow at her, content in her response. Your move, she was saying. 

Sarah rubbed her eyes and painfully pulled at the skin on her eyelids. “I should have told you about this sooner. I’m sorry, Audrey. I’m sorry I’m landing this on your now.” 

“Well, while we’re being honest, I guess I should tell you that I kind of already knew.” 

Sarah looked at her incredulously. Audrey didn’t bat an eye and just sat looking back at her. 

“How long? When did you…?” 

“It’s not every day a movie star wanders into the reception of a crumbling ER department.” She said, matter-of-factly. “Plus, I saw you both outside the diner. Aaand I’m guessing the accident you had recently was because of him as well?” 

Sarah awkwardly bit at her bottom lip. She didn’t need to confirm anything; Audrey knew full well. She was astute as hell and while it didn’t feel like it right in this moment, Sarah was quietly relieved. 

“What do I do, Audrey?” 

She sipped her water again. “If you insist on being serious about this, you can’t let yourself be in a room with him alone. You know that much, hun. The rest is day by day. Maybe he’ll make it easy on you.” 

She nodded in understanding. Audrey took that at face value, giving her a sympathetic smile in return while mentally making a bet with herself about how well things would turn out. 

*

[slxyangel]

Unspoken (Tommy Lee x Reader)

Summary: The conversation you had most dreaded had finally arrived, and the outcome was going to be ugly, at the very least.

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of violence, literally the SMALLEST mentions of sex, fluffy ending.

A/N: Nothing really. Just don’t judge too hard, I’m new, and English isn’t my first language. Enjoy :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Masterlist: https://slxyangel.tumblr.com/post/189625800403/masterlist

The vase flew across the room as flowers and water were scattered all over the floor. It hit the wall right next to Tommy’s head. Shit, that was close.

- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

- IT MEANS EXACTLY WHAT I SAID, YOU FUCKING HYSTERICAL BITCH- Tommy yelled, with his eyes wide open and his index finger pointing at you - AND STOP THROWING THINGS AT ME.

- I WOULD IF YOU WEREN’T BEHAVING LIKE AN ABSOLUTE DOUCHEBAG - you said as you grabbed a book and threw it in his direction. This time, it hit him on the stomach.Tommy caught the book right before it fell and walked towards you in two impressively long steps, only to grab your wrists before you had the time to throw him the ashtray you were already holding.

- YOU SERIOUSLY NEED TO CALM THE FUCK DOWN Y/N.

- ARE YOU REALLY TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN?? - you argued, unsuccessfully trying to escape from his grip -  REALLY??? AFTER WHAT HAPPENED IN YOUR HOUSE???

- IT’S NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL!!!

- BUT IT IS!!! YOUR PARENTS LITERALLY SPENT HALF AN HOUR SHOWING ME PICTURES OF YOUR EX THAT THEY, FOR SOME REASON, KEEP IN AN ALBUM, REMINDING ME HOW BEAUTIFUL SHE WAS, HOW HAPPY YOU TWO WERE TOGETHER AND HOW MUCH THEY GOT ALONG WITH HER.

- OH MY GOD, AGAIN? THAT HAPPENED A MILLION YEARS AGO. IT’S FORGOTTEN. I AM WITH YOU NOW, I LOVE YOU. SARAH IS OVER, YOU KNOW IT.

- YEAH I SURE AS HELL DO - you yelled back, filled with rage and built-up anger. Your hands were finally free, so you were gesticulating a lot while you spoke - BUT APPARENTLY YOUR MOTHER DOESN’T. SHE FUCKING HATES ME! SHE ALWAYS DID! SHE ONLY SEES ME AS “THE OTHER ONE”, “THE ONE HE’LL EVENTUALLY GET TIRED OF”, “THE WHORE”, “THE GRRRROUPIE” WITH A LOT OF R’S - you said, mimicking her accent - WHEN THAT IS NOT EVEN TRUE. AND WHAT DO I HAVE TO COPE WITH WHEN I GET HOME FROM AN EVENING WITH PEOPLE THAT DESPISE ME SO BAD? EXACTLY! A BOYFRIEND WHO PROJECTS ALL HIS ISSUES ON ME AND COMPARES THIS CRAP WITH THE FACT THAT MY OWN MOTHER ONCE SAID “Oh, you have tattoos” THE DAY SHE MET HIM.

- OH NO NO NO NO - Tommy interrupted - DON’T YOU DARE WALK THAT PATH. IT’S COMPLETELY DIFFERENT, YOUR MOTHER IS DISGUSTED BY ME, I CAN SEE IT, HER EYES GIVE IT AWAY. SHE HATES ME BECAUSE I’M THE DRUMMER IN A METAL BAND AND SHE CAN’T STAND THE FACT THAT HER PERFECT LITTLE DAUGHTER IS DATING A DUDE WHO WEARS MAKEUP AND LEATHER PANTS.

- WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN SAYING?? TOMMY. I. AM. A. SINGER. - You paused deliberately between each word. This was ridiculous - HOW THE HELL WAS SHE GOING TO HATE YOU FOR BEING A ROCKSTAR WHEN HER OWN DAUGHTER IS ONE? THAT DOESN’T ADD UP, DUMBASS.

- YEAH, WHATEVER YOU SAY. AT LEAST MY MOTHER IS FUCKING CONSEQUENT WITH WHAT SHE BELIEVES, UNLIKE SOME OTHER HYPOCRITES.

- SEE?? YOU JUST GOT ALL WORKED UP OUT OF NOWHERE JUST BECAUSE I TOLD YOU SOMETHING YOU DIDN’T WANT TO HEAR. YOU ARE SUCH A SPOILED LITTLE BRAT. AND DIDN’T YOU LOVE TO BRAG ABOUT YOUR PERFECT PARENTS AND YOUR PERFECT FAMILY? WELL, THE FACT THAT YOU ARE AN EGOTISTICAL CHILD WITH ANGER ISSUES IS ENTIRELY ON YOUR MOTHER, AND IF I WERE HER, I WOULDN’T EXACTLY BE PROUD OF MY ACCOMPLISHMENTS AS A PARENT.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

You had overstepped. The blatant contrast between a long while of yelling and the absolute silence that now reigned in the living room told you so. And the worst of all was that you had done it consciously.You knew how much Tommy loved his mum and how sacred their bond was to him. For this reason, you were conscious about the fact that particularly this conversation topic was some tricky business, but you couldn’t contain it anymore.

You had sensed in what ways Vassiliki was a loving mother, a caring wife and a good person in general terms. Only you didn’t feel like she acted that way towards you. From the very first time you had met her, you had been able to feel the looks of disdain she often gave you, or the slight but still noticeable shifts in her voice tone when she talked to you. You just didn’t know why. At the beginning you told yourself it was all a product of your imagination, you had been nervous for weeks before meeting Tommy’s parents, so your suggested mind could be playing tricks on you. But within time, you thought maybe it wasn’t exactly like that.

You had been avoiding to tell your boyfriend because you didn’t think it was a major drawback, and you knew how much he adored her. You didn’t want to take the role of the abducting girlfriend who sets her partner against everything and everyone important in his life, so you would just put up with the animosity until it faded away, because it eventually would, right?

That night hadn’t been particularly rough, not rougher than the others in any case, but it was the last straw. After the shitshow that was your family dinner, the ride home was rather silent. Tommy could sense something was wrong. I mean, he was oblivious, but he wasn’t dumb, so once you two got home he asked you why the attitude. After such a long night, the last thing you wanted was to fight with your boyfriend. All you needed was for him to take you upstairs, fuck you senseless and cuddle you until the planet fell from its axis. And although your head was filled with red lights and voices screaming that answering his questions would start a war, Tommy really knew how to push your buttons so, long story short, vases started flying.

And now there you were, standing in front of the love of your life, staring at him and about to deal with the consequences you yourself provoked when you couldn’t bite your tongue hard enough.Tommy was looking at you with widened eyes, a subtle frown and massive amounts of disappointment in his expression. He seemed half surprised, because he would have never expected you to say something like that, half hurt, for obvious reasons. You felt your heart shrinking a little bit just with the look on his face. You had fucked up good and proper.

- Tommy, I’m so so…

But he didn’t give you the time to finish your sentence. He swung the door open and shut it close behind him, living you with a feeling of guilt, the urge to chase after him and the certainty that doing so would be a worse solution than your accusation had been a problem. In the air, the noise of his departure and a million words unspoken.

_____________________

How could she say that? I’m serious, how could she? What kind of abrasive bile must have she had inside of her to be able to say that without even flinching. I was livid.

I am not the biggest fan of leaving problems unsolved and arguments unfinished. Issues need to be addressed and things need to be talked through. Communication is necessary, especially in a romantic relationship, because it means that you trust your partner, and that is the key to it all. It has to be. And boy I fucking know it, my life had taught me the hard way: silence equals death.

Still, even with that mantra smashing my brain like a hammer, I left my girlfriend stranded in our own house in the middle of an argument; in the middle of her sentence. But I had to. I didn’t know what else to do. In fact, I didn’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t left the way I did. I didn’t want to think about it.

I had been driving for almost two hours. My first reflect the moment I stepped out of the house was to get in my car, and since i couldn’t decide where to go in the middle of the mental storm, I would do it along the way. But I hadn’t decided anything, I just drove. Driving always made me feel relaxed; concentrating on all of the small tasks I had to synchronize helped me focus on something other than my thoughts, it gave me perspective, and that was exactly what I needed in that moment.

In fact, now that I saw it coldly, what hurted me the most wasn’t her attack. I mean, come on, we all throw low blows in the heat of an argument once in a while. Or more often than that. I have. I can understand it. But no, what worried me was how come she hadn’t told me before.

For the way she was ranting at home all those things about my mum, it didn’t seem like the problem had only existed since that very night. No, that much anger and rampage had to be coming from a long time ago. But how much? How much time had she been feeling like that, suffering in silence? Dude, I love my mother, but I better than anyone know that sometimes she can be really petty, I inherited that wonderful trait from her. So why didn’t Y/N tell me? Doesn’t she trust me enough? What did she expect me to answer, that made her scared enough to chose to bear with that pain alone? What did I do? What didn’t I do?

Shit, my head was going to explode. I was definitely going to have to face the issue at some point, and I was running out of gas, so I had two options: heading to the nearest gas station and keep wandering around, or going back home. As much as we had a huge fight, I didn’t really feel like ending up in the middle of nowhere, forced to sleep in the car, so it was going to have to be option two. Besides, I was now cold-headed enough to talk things like the adult I sometimes wish I wasn’t.

When I got home, I was received by a darkened room and a silent house. Y/N’s wallet and keys were on the table, so she mustn’t have left. Good. It was past 4 a.m, so she was probably already sleeping. Good. At least I didn’t have to confront her straight away. I turned around to close the main door, when I found a small light-yellow post-it sticked to it.

HELLO

It was Y/N’s handwriting.

In the dim light of the lamp from the hall I was able to see a few more papers sticked to the wall of the stairs in front of me. I reached for the first one and started reading the note on it.

I’M GLAD YOU CAME BACK (cause if you’re reading this it’s because you have), I HOPE YOUR TIME AWAY WAS PRODUCTIVE, OR, AT LEAST, ENJOYABLE.

Yeah, pretty much. All I did was consume the gas tank and get to zero useful conclusions, so I would say we can call that success. I went for the next post-it, climbing a few steps, since I assumed they were in order.

I DON’T KNOW IF YOU KNOW THIS, BUT I’M GONNA TELL YOU JUST IN CASE. I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I HAVE EVER LOVED ANYONE IN MY LIFE, TOMMY, SO MUCH IT PHYSICALLY HURTS.

Oh. Well, this wasn’t exactly new, but reading the verbalized, inked, tangible version of it was a whole different thing. Next note.

WHEN YOU LEFT, I THOUGHT THE WORST, I THOUGHT THAT WAS IT, I THOUGHT I HAD LOST YOU BECAUSE I AM A DUMB BITCH WHO CAN’T CONTROL HER MOUTH.

I knew we had something in common, Y/N, I always knew it.

BUT THEN I REALIZED THAT WHAT WAS ACTUALLY PUNCTURING MY SOUL WASN’T THE PERSPECTIVE OF LOSING YOU. IT WAS THE PERSPECTIVE OF HAVING HURT YOU. I SWEAR THAT LOOK ON YOUR FACE IS GOING TO BE TATTOOED INSIDE OF MY LIDS FOREVER.

Fuck.

YOU CAN’T BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND HOW SORRY I AM FOR WHAT I SAID, BUT SPECIALLY FOR HOW I SAID IT, EVEN LESS IF ALL THE EXPLANATION I GIVE YOU IS A FEW SHITTY POST-ITS ON THE WALL.

This was the last piece of paper on the wall, right at the top of the stairs, so it had been more difficult to read only with the weak light from the floor below. I put it in my right hand with the small stack of other notes I had collected, and turned left to go to our room. Sticked to the closed door, I found another post-it.

SINCE IT’S MORE THAN LIKELY THAT BY THE TIME YOU REACH THIS PIECE OF PAPER I AM SOUND ASLEEP (A HOE PLANS AHEAD), ALL I HAVE LEFT TO SAY IS THAT, IF YOU FEEL LIKE IT, YOU CAN WAKE ME UP SO WE PROPERLY FIX THIS. I LOVE YOU.

The first thing I saw when I entered the room was her, in her panties and one of my t-shirts she liked to wear when I was on tour. Instead of occupying her side of the bed, she was in the middle of it, curled up and with her hair sprawled all over her pillow. Her arm was slightly reaching my half of the bed, and her nose softly pressed against my own pillow, as if she wanted to hold on to my scent, to get closer to me, but as if she didn’t dare.

The sight was divine, she seemed so peacefully asleep, and after such a tough night, God forbid I interrupted that, whatever reason I might have for doing so. Communication could wait. I got into bed and cuddled up behind her back, as gently as I could, so that she didn’t wake up.

_____________________

A cold hand ran up my bare thigh and rested on my hip, as I felt a warm breath and a pair of lips grazing the back of my neck.It was him.Slowly, his presence and the memories from a few hours earlier started to drag me away from my sleep. Why was he here? What time was it? Shit, the post-its. Was he waking me up? Was this my cue? What should I say? With a sloppy movement I began to turn around to face him.

- Tommy… - my voice was hoarse because of the crying and the sleeping.

- Shhh - he instantly interrupted me with a soft voice, as his arm moved from my hip to my waist and pulled me closer to his chest - it’s okay.

- But…

- I know, I know - he whispered as he peppered soft kisses on the bare skin of my shoulder, exposed by his t-shirt; on the back of my neck and also in my head, sniffing the scent that my hair radiated - sleep now, babe. You can tell me tomorrow, but now sleep. It’s okay, I love you…

His soothing words managed to kill the clouds of confusion that surrounded me in that moment. In my state of semi-wakefulness I wasn’t particularly aware of or integrated with reality, but something in his voice was so deeply calming that I couldn’t help but feel every little thing had somehow fallen into place. So there I was, with his arms around me, his lips against me, inescapably sleepy and undeniably in love.