#HURT OUCH

[hinamie]

idk about yall but life is good again

[machinot]

Use the D-Pad - Machinot for Nintendo DS - 2005

[miyakuli]

Goodbye, Blitz. 💔

[its-a-me-mango]

Doodle while waiting for the doctor to phone me and prescribe me yummy yummy drugs, I would take perscription medication with him.

[samkerrworshipper]

The Last Time (exile pt.2) | Alexia Putellas x Reader

part 2 to exile

summary: Alexia tries to apologise to r after what happened at the club… another songfic based off the song the last time by taylor swift

warnings: none besides a whole lot of angst :(

Alexia knows a lot of things. 

She knows how to play soccer, she knows how to speak English, Spanish and Catalan, she knows how to make some of the best paella in Barcelona thanks to her mother, she knows how to dance, she knows how to have some fun. 

She also knows that you are the best thing that has ever happened to her. 

It’s a fact, because Alexia was a mess before you, fresh out of a break up with Jenni, who she never really saw herself staying with but also never saw herself breaking up with. 

There are some people like Alexia thinks, people that you love, but they aren’t your person. Sometimes those relationships are the ones that hurt the most. 

Alexia knows that she’s fucked up more than she ever has before, she’s stripped you of your dignity and the respect in your relationship. 

Eli told her as much, her mother taking your side as Alexia sobbed into her phone explaining just how badly she had messed up and how she had to fix it. 

Alexia knew she was right, but she was also frightfully aware that she was fairly intoxicated, and she didn’t want to ruin your night anymore by showing up at your doorstep. 

So, she timidly stepped back into the bar, taking in how a lot of the team had exited the dance floor, Jenni appeared to be gone, something Alexia was grateful for. 

Before she could properly step into the space, Mapi was coming out of nowhere and clutching onto Alexia’s forearm, dragging her out of the club as quickly as humanly possible. 

Before Alexia could ask any questions, all the air was exiting her lungs as she was slammed up against the brick wall of the outside of the club. 

Mapi’s arm had come to rest flat against her chest, pressing her directly into the cold concrete. 

“What the actual fuck was that.”

Mapi’s voice is seething, and sure, she’s Alexia’s best friend in the entire world, but you are also Ingrid and Mapi’s adoptive daughter, when it comes to protecting you they do it fiercely. 

Alexia can’t do much besides burst into tears, she feels weak, stupidly weak, she doesn’t deserve to be crying, not after what she just did to you, but she can’t help herself, everything is too much. 

Mapi eases up a little bit, her arm falling from Alexia’s chest, down to her stomach and bringing her in for a hug, it’s clear that Alexia is pretty tipsy, and she decides she’ll save the yelling for when she can fully appreciate it. 

“C’mon, let’s get you home, Ingrid’s sober, she’ll drive.”

Alexia looks behind Mapi, to find her girlfriend lingering behind the two of them, a deep frown of anger and disappointment on her face. 

It makes Alexia sick to her stomach, like she’s been punched in the gut repetitively, she probably deserves it, especially after what she just did to you. 

She allows Mapi to lead her to a car, her body crumpling into the backseat, the thoughts of the last hour circling in her mind repetitively, like a record stuck on replay. 

Drunken, heartbroken Alexia forces herself to make a promise in the back of Mapi’s car, this is the last time. 

The last time she puts her feelings above yours, the last time she thinks without acting, the last time she disregards your relationship with such ease. 

If for some miracle, she can manage to claw her way back into your life, then she promises herself she will never let this happen again, this will be the first and only time that she goes behind your back, this will be the last time that she treats you like you aren’t enough, this is the last night she will lie to you. 

It seems empty, in the context, but Alexia doesn’t care, as far as she’s concerned this is rock bottom, this is the worst thing that has ever happened to her, and she’ll be damned if she lets you slip out of her hands without putting up a fight. 

Never again will she allow you to push your feelings under the rug, she is never going to hide all of your problems away like they don’t matter. 

When they do make it back to Ingrid and Mapi’s apartment, it’s clear Ingrid is fuming, Alexia can’t really blame her. 

So Mapi is on clean up, dragging a zoned out Alexia into the apartment, throwing her into the guest bedroom with some Advil and water on her bedside. 

It’s the bare minimum, it’s what Alexia deserves, Mapi doesn’t comfort her, she just gives her the look, the ‘you’ve seriously fucked up and I won’t lie to you about it’ look, it’s a look that previously Alexia had used on Mapi, before Ingrid, before Mapi got her shit together. 

She leaves Alexia to wallow in her hangover and depression, deep down Mapi knows it’s what's best, even if it hurts her, she knows from personal experience that sometimes it’s best to hold yourself accountable for your actions, and she knows Alexia will. 

Alexia manages to tug her clothes off, the items harbouring memories that make Alexia gag, she manages to crawl into the unfamiliar sheets of the bed and tumble into an alcohol induced sleep. 

It’s not a good sleep, the kind of sleep where no matter how long you stay unconscious for, you seem like you are teetering on the edge of waking up again. 

It’s why Alexia can’t sleep anything past 6am, which is her normal wake up time, on every day but a Monday, Monday’s are the one day of the week where Alexia allows herself to sleep in, because typically the only thing that happens on a Monday is video review in the afternoon, but that had been cancelled because Jona had some family commitment. 

She crawls out of bed, finding a spare hoodie and shorts on the dresser in the room and tugging them on before walking into the living room. 

To her surprise, Ingrid is already sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands, Bagheera in her lap and a laptop sitting on the counter in front of her. 

“There is coffee in the pot.”

Ingrid’s voice is stiff, something so unusual for the brunette, normally she is all things warm and kind, it’s why Alexia believes she compliments Maria so well, she mellows out all of Mapi’s bluntness and contradictiveness. 

Alexia tiptoes over to the pot, pouring herself a cup and then tentatively taking a seat at the table after Ingrid eyeballed the seat beside her. 

She closes the laptop once Alexia has sat down, all of the Norwegians attention turning to Alexia, unfortunately. 

“What you did last night was quite frankly disgusting. Your wife, my best friend, has put seven years of her life into you, you fall on her for anything you like, everything in your relationship is her problem, and for whatever reason she puts up with it, I know if it was me I wouldn’t put up with an inch of it, but she does, because that's who she is. She was holding on to one thing, you give away every single part of you, but she had something, a little piece of hope and last night you took it away from her. In fact, you practically stomped on that hope right in front of her. You don’t deserve her, you don’t deserve to walk on the ground that she does. I don’t care if you're my captain, or that you are La Reina or Alexia Putellas,  you do not get to treat the person that loves you very most in the world like a piece of lint on a sweater. You dust her off at every single opportunity you can, and she just sits by, allowing you to, because she loves you, a lot more than you deserve.”

Alexia tries to say something, agree with Ingrid, because she does agree, everything Ingrid is saying is true, Ingrid stops her though, continuing her rant. 

“For whatever reason, one I do not understand, she loves you, she talks about you like you created the moon and the stars, you make her happier than anybody else. That is why I am telling you that you have to make this right. Fuck Jenni, fuck you, fuck your fucked up ways. You need to fix this because she is going to be broken if you just give up. If anyone deserves to have their heart broken it’s you, so I don’t care if you have to die for her, you owe her that for all of the shit that you’ve forced her to put up with over the years. Last night might have been the straw that broke the camel's back, but you’ve been disloyal in every single way besides cheating up until last night, and if you love her at all, you will make it right. Nobody deserves to be loved more than she does, and if you don’t prove to her that you love her then she will spend every minute left of her life on earth gutted about it.”

Ingrid’s words are cut throat, so brutal that it takes Alexia a few seconds to absorb them all. 

“Ingrid, she told me that she wanted a divorce, that she didn’t want to be married to a woman who broke vows, I can’t blatantly disregard her wants.”

Ingrid just rolled her eyes.

“Of course she doesn’t, so prove to her that you aren’t that woman, that it was a mistake and that it will never happen again, and I swear to every single god that exists that if it ever happens again, mark my words, you will be six feet under and nobody will be finding your body, understood?”

It’s a threat that normally Alexia would find humorous, but the way Ingrid says it makes Alexia fairly certain that the Norwegian is fairly serious. Ingrid is innocent, Ingrid is a sweetheart, Ingrid is kittens and all things sweet and nice, apparently until you hurt someone she loves. 

“Do you know where she is?”

Ingrid takes a deep sip from her coffee. 

“I talked to Keira and Lucy last night, they took her back to their apartment, said she was practically catatonic and refused to speak to them, just cried and sat on their couch with Narla.”

It’s a sad image, the pit of guilt in Alexia’s stomach only seems to continue to grow the more information she’s fed.

“They live two blocks away from here, right?”

Ingrid nods hesitantly, with the confirmation Alexia is shooting out of her seat, rushing towards the door of Mapi and Ingrid’s apartment, Ingrid is far to tired and fed up with the whole situation to try and stop her, even with the negative feeling that’s pooling up in her gut, she figures Alexia is a big girl though, and if she’s going to make time to atone for her sins there's no time like the present. 

Alexia’s fast paced walk is fueled by one thing: fear. 

Fear she’s lost you forever, fear she’s made the biggest mistake in her life, fear that one stupid fucking kiss could be the end of her life as she knows it. 

It doesn’t take her very long to navigate her way through the Barcelona streets to Lucy’s apartment, Alexia and Barcelona are practically synonymous. 

She grew up on these streets, she knows them better than anything in the world, she knows them better than she knows you.

Which almost makes her hurl, at what point did her wife, her lover, her heart become somebody that she doesn’t know, when did you stop becoming her priority?

Find myself at your door

Just like all those times before

I’m not sure how I got here

All roads, they lead me here

I imagine you are home

In your room, all alone

And you open your eyes into mine

Everything feels better

Alexia somehow finds her way to Keira and Lucy’s apartment, she’s been her hundreds of times, team bonding, dinners, movie nights, coffee catch ups. Lucy and Keira are also two people who you heavily rely on, often Alexia’s innately grateful for the two of them, because she can always trust that whilst the two of you are separated for national duties that you are in good company. 

She knocks on the door, powerful, unyielding, confident. All things that Alexia is definitely not feeling. 

She waits a maximum of three seconds, before she’s met with a frazzled looking Keira, who is still dressed in her pyjamas and looks like she hasn’t slept a single bit. 

“Leave.”

Keira’s voice is scratchy, dry and weirdly fearful. 

“I need to talk to my wife.”

Alexia doesn’t know why she uses the honorific, she hardly ever refers to you as anything but your name, but it's some sort of safety blanket for herself, a reminder that technically, according to a piece of paper the two of you are still married. 

“Alexia, leave, she doesn’t want to see you and I don’t want you to get hurt when my girlfriend finds out you are here.”

Alexia grimaces at the thought of Lucy, who she knows will have far less restraint then Ingrid and Maria when it comes to defending your honour. 

She relents though, Alexia has walked out the door one too many times, she knows it, and she won’t allow this time to be just another time that Alexia’s failed to show up for you. 

“Keira, I won’t leave until I get to see her.”

Keira rakes her hand through the roots of her hair. 

“Look, she’s been torn up about what happened all night, didn’t catch a wink of sleep, neither did Luce or I because we were so worried that if we left her she’d jump off our balcony or do something stupid. I’m sure you didn’t sleep well either, so how about you come back tomorrow or something, when she’s feeling up to it.”

Alexia pities Keira just a little bit, it’s Alexia’s fault that she looks like shit, everything is Alexia’s fault. 

“Keira, please, I just need to see her, I know I fucked up, trust me, nobody knows it more than I do, I just need to see her, and apologise. You can kick me out afterwards, just please, let me say my peace.”

Keira’s jaw sets, and for a moment Alexia sees a different side to Keira, it scares her just a little bit. 

“I hardly think you deserve any of her time, you don’t deserve her time or forgiveness.”

Alexia is about to agree with Keira, but the both of them are silenced by a voice. 

“Kei, let her say what she has to say.”

And right before your eyes 

I’m breaking

No past, no reasons

Just you and I

Just the sight of you brings tears to Alexia’s eyes. 

There are big, puffy, red bags underneath your eyes, your makeup from the previous night smeared and mixed all over yourself.

You look so incredibly raw, like a piece of art, and it pains Alexia so much that she’s the reason for all of your pain, that her fucked up decisions have made you so broken. 

“We’re waiting.”

Alexia’s brain snaps into order, all of her thoughts circulating as she tries to articulate what she needs to say to you. 

This is the last time I’m asking you this

Put my name at the top of your list

This is the last time I’m asking you why

You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye 

You find yourself at my door

Like all those times before

“Please, I know I fucked up last night. And it’s not the first time that I’ve put myself above you in the last little while, and you deserve better, you deserve so much better. But I do love you, I loved you enough to marry you, I loved you enough to make you a Putellas and I don’t regret that. I don’t love Jenni, I don’t want her, I don’t think about her like I think about you. I know, I broke your heart, a heart that I promised I would protect, that I’d care for. I know that I’ve asked too much of you, asked for you to forgive me of too much, you deserve better. Please, let this be the last time, I promise, I swear on my mothers life, that if you give me a chance, I will make this the last time. I know we’ve been here hundreds of times, and you have no reason to trust me, but please, give me a chance.”

Your facial expression doesn’t change, it’s spacey, sort of like you’re on a different wavelength.

Alexia’s toes are scuffing against the doormat, her hand resting on the door frame as she looks at you, with tears and desperation in her eyes. 

“Little while? Alexia the last time you told me you loved me when it wasn’t for cameras or show was two years ago. When we took the trip to Ibiza before your break out season started, as soon as the award started rolling in, I didn’t matter, how could I? I didn’t marry La Reina, I married Alexia Putellas Segura, the woman who loved me, you aren’t that person anymore.”

You wear your best apology

But I was there to watch you leave

And all the times I let you in

Just for you to go again

Disappear when you come back 

Everything is better

“Please, Y/n/n.”

Your face is unwavering, and for once Alexia doesn’t feel weak for being the one breaking down, it feels deserved, considering how many times the tables have been turned and you’ve broken down in front of Alexia because of her words and actions. 

“No, you do not get to show up here with some perfect fucking apology to try and worm your way back into my life. It’s not fair Alexia Putellas, because you know I love you, you know that I would follow you to the ends of the earth, you know that I would give up every single part of myself for you. But I have watched you walk out the door so many times, and every single time I’ve let you back in, I’ve let you disappear whenever its been most convenient for you and act like everything is fine when you return. I put up with that, because I am a good fucking wife and I love you, more than is healthy. You are my everything, you are my world, and I would have died knowing you didn’t love me as much, because loving you was enough for me. But knowing that you loved Jenni enough to give her something so sacred to me, it felt like you ripped my heart out of my chest and cut it to pieces in front of my eyes. The worst part is, I still fucking love you, you could kill a hundred people or move to Antarctica and it wouldn’t matter, because I love you, unconditionally and it hurts. So please, for me, walk away, because if you don’t I’ll forgive you, and then you’ll worm your way back into my life, and it’ll hurt even more because I’ll be going against my beliefs and wishes.”

And right before your eyes

I’m aching 

Run fast, nowhere to hide

Just you and me

Suddenly, tears are dripping down Alexia’s face, it hurts so bad to hear what you are saying, it feels like she’s being stabbed. 

Having you hate Alexia is one thing, but having you love her but ask her to leave is the worst possible thing. 

Alexia wants to runa way from the door, to leave you, leave this awkward fucking situation which Keira is directly in the middle of, but she can’t, not when your staring at Alexia like it’s physically hurting you to do so. 

This is the last time I’m asking you this

Put my name at the top of your list

This is the last time I’m asking you why

You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye 

“Please just let this be the last time, let it be the last time I fuck up, let this be the last time I hurt you.”

Alexia’s voice is pleading, begging, hoping. 

“Sure, this is the last time you hurt me, this is the last time, because there won’t be any more times between us, we’re done Alexia.”

This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong

This is the last time I say it's been you all along

This is the last time I let you in my door

This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore

Alexia is balling now, big, wet, fat tears sloppily falling down her face as she processes the emotions and current conversation. 

“Alexia, it’s been you all along for me, and I was okay with that, even if it was painful, even if you could never reciprocate. But this is the last time I open my door to you, this is the last time you hurt me. So leave, please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

Alexia’s feet feel rooted to the floor, her toes curling into the doormat below her feet. 

“Alexia, leave, before we call security.”

It’s Lucy’s bigger body, now shielding you from Alexia that sends the order, and before Alexia can say anything more, the door of the apartment is slammed in her face, and she’s left standing in front of a white door, with tears streaming down her face as she mourns her marriage that’s slipped out from under her, all because she was fucking stupid. 

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea Episode 5 | "Get out. Get out!"

Peat's performance in this entire sequence was superb. Probably some of his best work so far. This truly encapsulates the saying 'hurt people hurt others'.

Tongrak is so overcome by what he's feeling, he looks physically smothered, like a caged animal fighting against his own mind. He's trying so desperately not to be affected by the confrontation but it has inevitably gotten to him.

In the midst of this, he tells Mut very clearly to stay away. One, because he understandably wants to be alone. But two, he knows he can't control his emotions right now and so he's likely to lash out. And that's exactly what he ends up doing. So on top of everything else, he now feels immensely guilty and frustrated that Mut didn't heed his warning and leave him be. He just has to hurt one person here who cares about him.

The final scene at the dining table really hit me hard. Because I've been exactly there before and I'm sure others can relate too. When you feel so immensely helpless and alone, the silence of the four walls around you seems desperately cruel. At such a low point, even the tiniest gesture of kindness can threaten to break you down.

[cucuxumusu]

...a capitalist dog...

[moxyphinx]

SIUAN 🥺 SANCHE

[museofthepyre]

“What exactly… will you do with them…?”

“Show you a love you have never known”

I think about this moment constantly the clock chiming and then his complete switch in tone and he hdghdgdhgshhdhdgh HSJSH gsgrhdhdgsgsg

[isbergillustration]

Something's Wrong

[imliterallysnakejaguar]

thinking ab zane and kai's friendship fr fr,

how zane admires kai's strengths (and knowledge about people) and expresses it explicitly (straight up asking what certain things mean or why people are doing what they're doing) and he's completely genuine about it. like theres no pity or condescending nature towards it, zane just believes that the others on the team know more about life and people than he does. but kai would take that to heart more than the others.

his parents left without telling him why, he wasn't a very good blacksmith leaving nya's heavy lifting to provide for the both of them, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't become the green ninja. he was even the last of the core four to discover his true potential. kai has never been used to genuine praise. kai probably never truly thought that he was the best at something, or better than someone else. but when zane (a literal prodigal nindroid with a heart of gold) asks him for help and holds him at such a high regard? that hits HARD.

and zane, this assumedly perfect nindroid, never seeming to understand how to get people to like him, or how to understand the meaning behind peoples' words, and kai just understands all of that so effortlessly. and instead of being jealous, he just genuinely thinks 'wow, this guy's so smart!' ???

also the underlying idea of them both feeling responsible for everyone and judging themselves bc they feel like they should have prevented something bad from happening or at least taken the brunt of the attack to protect everyone else,, like ouch. the heavy-hitting guilt and grief, the fear of being the only one left in their family, THEY'RE SO AUGHHHH

[msrdisease]

the scully sisters

albert camus, the misunderstanding │ blondshell, salad

[usertoxicyaoi]

"So, that's how you feel? Take care, Senpai."

COSMETIC PLAYLOVER (2024). EPISODE FOUR.

[partycatty]

bi-han > returning without him

reader is the wife of bi-han but is crushed to find out he sided with shang tsung

notes: womp womp

masterlist <3

•being the long-time wife of bi-han

•kissing him goodbye before he heads out with his brothers on a mission to gain intel on the construction of the soul beacons

•you're a ninja of the lin kuei as well, a more than capable fighter on your own. with no elemental powers but all the strength you'd need. liu kang just did not ask for your aid this time around for reasons unknown.

•tending to your own homely duties as well as being the temporary grandmaster for the lin kuei in your husband's absence though you don't need to do too much as he's already trained them to near perfection.

•so incredibly excited for his return, sure to make your living quarters even more perfect than it was before he left. you find yourself smoothing the sheets down each time you pass by.

•the ninjas utter excitement as well, hoping that quan chi and shang tsung's toying with souls ends soon and things may return to peace.

•but then the portal opens, and you only see your brother-in-laws, one of which bearing a new, thick scar down his face. they look solemn. you know immediately.

•to betray his clan is one thing, but to betray his spouse and brothers... how could he be so evil, when he was the symbol for protection? perhaps, he only sought to protect himself. perhaps you... weren't enough for him, and the thought tears your chest open.

•scream-sobbing in tomas's arms as kuai liang rubs a hand around your back, neither one of them saying much because they're fighting back devastation of their own.

•they partially hold themselves responsible for not being able to stop bi-han from siding with evil, but they also know deep down he was a corrupted leader with malicious intentions, which you turned a blind eye to in hopes that he'd become a better man.

•you sit by the pond with the brothers, staring blankly into the still water. you ask, hoarsely, if he showed any signs of hesitation. you take their silence as a no, which makes your sobs burn your chest.

•you channel this disappointment into anger, and anger into hatred as your punches become harder and kicks swifter. the lin kuei disbands and reforms into the shirai ryu, and the brothers offer you a spot at the top alongside them.

•your life becomes completely engulfed in taking down your husband and those who wish to spread evil. you're hardened. some of the ninjas even say you've become as cold as sub-zero. you would've been proud of this before, but now it feels like the deepest, sharpest insult.

[thewingedwalrus]

Ok, but can we talk about how upsetting it was to see Braniac use the simulations of Clark's bio parents like that?

He used them to subject Clark to the same kind of parental abuse he inflicted on Kara. There's something so heartbreaking about seeing a version of Clark who has no memory of his happy, loving life with the Kents on Earth. Who only knows what it's like to have parents who deride and control him, eventually escalating to the point where Lois's badass, superhuman moment occurred specifically because she was protecting him from being struck by his own father.

Something truly disturbing about the way Brainiac weaponizes paternalistic cruelty even against people he didn't raise, and uses it to control those who are otherwise incredibly powerful and reduce them to children afraid of disappointing him.

[hier--soir]

tender is the night [for a broken heart]

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: ex-boyfriend!joel miller x f!reader summary: a birthday dinner gets interrupted by a drunk ex, who still can't say the words you need to hear. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] jackson era, ex-boyfriend!joel, crying on your birthday, angst, insecurity, joel can't express how he feels, nothing is resolved at the end, a drunk teary dilf. word count: 2.6k masterlist a/n: ouch. was in the mood for angst and hopelessness apparently? it hurt to write so it very well may hurt to read. enjoy!

The table was a disastrous mosaic of dirty crockery and full glasses of wine. Countless empty serving bowls were strewn to the far edges of the wood. Plates crusted with sauces and relishes were framed by purple rings where wine had stained the table. A Victoria sponge with the words ‘another year!’ written across it in a cinnamon dusting—because “we couldn’t figure out how to make icing”. Amidst it all, candles rested on simple saucers, wax dripping down their sides as small orange flames sent plumes of smoke towards the ceiling.  

Those glowing flares sent shadows flickering across the table. The light reflected shards of yellow and white on the faces of your friends, highlighting drunken smiles and heavy lids over shiny eyes. Hushed conversation on one end of the table mirrored by raucous laughter and jeering on the other; the people closest to you, come to spend an evening together in celebration.

You were happy. A tingling sensation resided within you, vibrating in the space between the tips of your toes and the top of your skull. And yet, you couldn’t shake the ever-present reminder of something being missing. Or, someone, rather. A large, person-shaped hole existed in the room – in the space beside you. A cold patch of air that should’ve been warmed by an additional body. An empty chair at the the table, with no one to fill it.

The sharp clinking of a fork against glass caught your attention. Sydney was perched at the head of the table, messy haired and wide eyed. Unbeknownst to you, she’d taken the time to retrieve a fresh bottle of wine from the kitchen, and now stood over the group, crooked teeth on show as she beamed in your direction.

“Sooo,” she teased, dragging the word out and wiggling her eyebrows jauntily. “We’re here to celebrate a very special person.”

A chorus of cheers and whoops rung out along the table, and that warm feeling of happy, I am happy simmered in your chest again. A—dangerously full—glass of wine was held in your hand, and you sipped the crimson liquid leisurely, savouring the taste as it swum down your throat and into your full belly.

“Our dear, dear friend,” she said your name softly. “You mean so much to us all. No words could describe how grateful I am to have found you in this disaster of a world, and how pleased I am that our paths crossed after so many years of solitude.”

Jesse leant in from the seat beside yours, circling a lanky arm around your shoulders. You dipped your head in his direction to offer up a shy smile.

“You deserve nothing but the best,” Sydney continued, her eyes softening. “Here’s to another wonderful year with you, my friend. Happy birthday.”

You raised your glass into the air, laughing as your friends lifted their own to meet it. Glasses clashed in a boisterous toast, wine sloshing over rims, creating a new pattern of imperfect blots on the table.  

“Alright, alright,” you chuckled, motioning for them all to settle down. “This means so much to me, really.”

You paused, soaking in the sight of their faces. Soft lipped smiles and bright eyes, gazing at you with nothing but love. “Thank you for coming. Thank you for the cake, for the wine. It means the worl—"

A sharp knock at the door cut you off.

All heads ticked in the direction of your entryway. Eyebrows drew together, friends glanced around, assessing who was missing from the table. A short, wary giggle loosed from your lips as you placed your wine glass down.

“I’ll, uhh—” you rose from the table. “I’ll go see who that might be.”

Before you’d taken a single step, you noted your pulse quickening.

He wouldn’t, you thought lamely, walking slowly towards the door. Surely, he wouldn’t.

Not today, of all days.

Not after months.

But you were lightheaded from the wine, the critical thinking part of your brain thoroughly fogged. And so you gripped the handle and tugged the door open without properly preparing yourself for if it was him, and then—

He would.

Today, of all days.

After months.

He would, and he did.

You balked at the sight of him. The cool evening air rushed in through the open doorway, and you could see dried yellow leaves smattered across the front porch – victims to the Fall weather. You noticed his boots first, unable to drag your gaze from the ground. Bulky, black boots that stood on the faded wood of your porch decking, crushing those flaxen leaves beneath them.

“Darlin’.” That deep, ache-in-your-stomach-inducing, nauseatingly familiar Texan drawl.

You recoiled at the sound of it, instinctively taking a step back into the house and away from the door, away from him.

He mirrored your movement, feet dragging his body a tedious step forward, until he rested atop the welcome mat. The thick, sour smell of liquor wafted through the air, and the tip of your nose scrunched at the overbearing scent. You finally allowed your eyes to drift up his body; past the wrinkled blue jeans, the dark green flannel, to rest on his face.

His beard was unkempt, curly hair unruly and a little longer than you’d seen him have it in all the years you’d known him. Dark irises bordered by bloodshot whites rested in the middle of his face, framed by heavy blue under-eye bags that hinted at a blatant lack of sleep.

As you took in his appearance, Joel spoke again. “Happy birthday.”

His words had a slow, lilting slur to them, and as he stood there a soft, dopey smile stretched across his face. The crow’s feet by his eyes made your stomach twist into knots, and had you fielding an onslaught of memories of how you used to lay tender kisses against the wrinkled skin, whispering how much you loved those marks.

You were aware of how chatter at the table had died down, silence descending upon the house as your guests comprehended who was at the door.

“Joel,” you cleared your throat in an attempt to mask your tone of stilted surprise. “I—”

“How are you?” he took another step forward, scraping his shoes on the mat as if he were about to step inside.

Instinctively, you shot a cautious glance at your friends. Jesse had risen from his seat and was watching the interaction warily. He’d had his fair share of troublesome run ins with Joel lately and was on guard in an instant.

You ignored his question. “What are you doing here?”

“I was…” he paused thoughtfully, tongue darting out to wet his cracked, pink lips. “Could I come inside for a minute, sweetheart?”

The sound of glass breaking snatched the response from your mouth, and Joel’s brow pitched down in concern. The pair of you looked in towards the table, where a red-faced Sydney was clambering to collect broken shards of a glass that had been knocked to the floor.  

“Oh,” Joel’s voice came quieter this time, sounding somewhat dejected. “You have guests, I-I’m sorry to, uh, to intrude.”

“We were just having dinner,” you said quickly, heat soaring through your skin as you noticed how his face had fallen, drunken smile nowhere to be found.

It hurt how much you wanted to reassure him. How you wanted to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, to tell him that you would never celebrate your birthday without him.

Except you couldn't say that. Didn’t reach out to touch him, or to reassure. Instead, you let your words hang in the air for him to interpret as he wished.

“Right,” he nodded quickly, eyes glazing over a little.

The air felt thick with tension, a heavy silence permeating between the two of you and the guests around the table. Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to gage your reaction. Your chest felt tight, every breath painful as air clawed its way in and out of your lungs.

“Hey,” rough fingers grazed your cheek, and your breathing hitched. “Why're you cryin', sweetheart?"

You hadn’t noticed the tear falling until he swiped his thumb below your eye, brushing away the wetness. The feeling of his skin on yours after so long caused a thick set of tears to fill your eyes. You swallowed them down quickly, sucking your lips into your mouth as you tried to keep it together.

Through blurry eyes you could see the concern on Joel’s face. He still looked so handsome. Even when it was clear he hadn’t been taking care of himself, even when he was drunker than all hell – he was so beautiful that it hurt.

“Why today?” you cursed internally at how feeble you sounded.

His hand dropped away, lips forming your name in a soft exhale.

“Don’t,” your voice hardened. “Just—tell me why you’re here, why today.”

“Let’s not fight,” he said faintly. The breeze shifted towards you, carrying the heady scent of whiskey that coated his breath. “Not on your birthday.”

“We aren’t fighting.” Your fingers sought out the doorhandle again, using it’s sturdy weight to ground yourself.

He was practically swaying on his feet, broad torso tilting slowly from side to side. “Feels like we are,” he confessed, thick eyebrows drawn across his forehead. “Y’hardly look at me anymore when I pass you in town.”

The dull ache in your chest intensified as you noticed tears glistening on his waterline all of a sudden, poised to fall at any moment.

“Joel, I don’t…” you sighed softly, eyes glancing out to the empty street as you tried to steady your breathing. “There’s nothing to fight over anymore – it’s done. It’s been months… I have nothing else to say about it; about any of it.”

He was silent for a long moment, cracked lips pursed as he digested your words.

“I’ve missed that,” he finally murmured.

“What?”

He hiccupped softly. “You sayin’ my name. S’my favourite thing in the world.”

“Jesus,” you muttered, although your heart stuttered at the words. “Can I get someone for you? Ellie?”

“No, don’t—” another hiccup “please don’t tell her.”  

“You’re drunk,” you admonished, quiet enough that your friends wouldn’t be able to hear.

His fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket, drawing it tighter around himself. He seemed shy beneath your gaze – almost unsure of himself, now that he was actually stood at your door.

“I miss you,” his low voice cracked and trembled. “Thought about you all day, couldn’t stop myself from comin’ over.”

You shivered, wrapping your arms around your torso to protect from the cool wind.

“And?” you rasped wetly. “You still can’t say it, though, can you?”

He stared at you, glassy eyed. His mouth opened, and the words, “I need you” tumbled out.  

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you scowled, eyes widening in desperation. “Why the fuck did you come here?”

“Where else would I go?” he implored. “Just wanna be wherever you are.”

You fell silent. Your heart thrashed inside your ribcage, striking rhythmically against your sternum in sharp jabs. It felt as though the crack down the middle of your heart, the one that you’d been working tirelessly to mend, was torn back open, a fresh wound once more.

“You know how I feel about you, darlin’,” he tried, taking another step forward.

“No,” you hissed, feeling almost hysterical as you held a hand out to stop him. “No, I don’t. For years I tried to figure it out, Joel, years, and I’m still at a fucking loss.”

“You’re the one who wanted time apart,” he bit, top lip curling in frustration.

“I never wanted whatever,” his hands gestured wildly between the pair of you. “this is. Never wanted to be away from you.”

You stared listlessly at him. “Yes,” you nodded. “I wanted time apart, because you needed to figure out what you wanted.”

“I know what I want,” his eyes blazed. One of his hands pushed forward and hovered over yours for a moment, dark eyes gaging your reaction before he allowed the digits to rest over yours. He squeezed your hand once, softly, and then held it. “You know it’s not easy for me to… to say these things.”

“It’s not easy,” you choked out. “To share two years with someone and then—fuck—to hold my heart out on a platter, to tell you that I loved you, over and over again, and never once hear it in return." Your chest heaved with jilted breaths, eyes widening as you spoke. "And it was okay, at first; I understood. I know what you’ve been through, but… it scares me, Joel, not knowing. And I trust that actions can speak louder than words, and that you have shown you care for me but… but maybe I’m weak – because I need to hear it. I need to know.”

A tear finally spilled, cutting a fierce line down his cheek, and disappearing into his beard.

It felt like you were baring your insides to him for the millionth time. Spilling your guts onto the ground before him and foolishly hoping that he would help to tuck them back inside where they belonged. Hot, red, pulsating matter that ached for him to take it in his hands, to caress it carefully, and whisper that yes, after all this time, he loved it.

You’d almost forgotten that a room full of people could hear your every word, and yet you found yourself uncaring.

Let them hear it, you thought. Let them see your love, your earnest, your honesty, and let them ache with you as it was not returned.

“Baby,” Joel squeezed your hand again, voice low like a warning. “I do, okay? I do.”

Please don’t do this, his eyes were screaming.  

“I don’t want to have to beg you to love me, Joel.”

“Let me come inside,” he pleaded softly, through steadily falling tears. “Let me stay with you. I’ll show you, okay? I just need some more time, sweetheart, please.”

You smiled sadly and raised your clasped hands to your mouth, pressed a delicate kiss to his palm. A glistening streak painted his skin where it had touched your tear-stained face.

And then you let his hand go. Watched it drop down to his side, palm still held up to you. As if that were its naturally resting state whenever you weren’t holding it.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said, voice thick.

His fingertips grazed your shirt as he reached out again, but you had already taken a step backwards, out of reach.

“Pleas—”

“I love you,” you murmured brokenly. He finally fell silent, wet eyes widening at the words; at the simplicity with which you’d spoken them. “Please get some sleep.”  

Joel blinked, wiped tears away with a rough hand. Nodded twice, torso swaying precariously as he spun on his feet to leave. You watched his back retreat, a fresh set of tears spilling onto your cheeks.

He paused then, only once, at your letterbox. Fingertips trailed over the lettering that spelt your name, and he spared a single glance over his shoulder.

“I’ll be back,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear over the soft Fall wind.

And as he departed, boots leaving your porch to stamp heavily across the grass and onto the road, that feeling of loss returned.

So short lived was its departure, and his return. Yet as Joel ventured into the darkness, avoiding the shining light of streetlamps, his absence curled around your being once more, greedily slinking into the space where he had stood.

You met it fondly, embraced the cool feeling as it floated over your skin, stroked your hands and face and held you in its grasp. Something to sit with – something to remind you, as you waited.

And you knew you would. Wait for him, that is.

As long as it took, you would wait, against your own better judgement.

For you loved him. Even when he couldn’t say it back, you loved him.