Disease

Afton woke up with Oliver’s arms curled around her, embracing her while she slept. It seemed that when she slept was the only time Afton would let Oliver get this close. And after yesterday’s happenings, Afton found herself quick to shrug out of his grasp and head to the bathroom just minutes after her cloudy eyes opened.

Her head was pounding from the amounts of vodka she had consumed in rage yesterday. She was angry at herself for causing such damage to herself as she tried not to lose her balance. This morning was going to be harder than it needed to be if she was hung-over and feeling more than sick already. The furious drinking yesterday only aided the sickness in her body, more pain added to the load she carried daily.

Oliver believed that if he tried hard enough, he could make her feel like she used to.

But this disease had aged Afton, causing her to feel so unlike herself as she matured much faster than she should have. There was nothing anyone could do to make her feel like she was still herself, young and in love. The only person who could change it would be herself, and she hardly found a point in it.

Oliver’s eyes fluttered open, his arms closing in to find that they didn’t wrap around Afton. He listened as she brushed her teeth, coughing vigorously along the way as she gagged. He watched as she walked past their bed, past someone she was now drifting away from, and out of their room. The gesture may have been small and virtually unrecognizable, but it summed up what had been happening between them for the past month or so.

Afton just left him behind. Oliver was trailing behind her, doing whatever he could to win her affection back, to win back the girl he once loved so much, and still did. He wanted her to act like she did before she changed into this girl who ignored him when she had mood swings, taking him along the rollercoaster of a life-threatening disease. Neither of them liked it.

The only good part about the lows were the intense highs that were passion filled nights. Although they only happened once every so often, it was the only thing to look forward to.

Even if Afton was mad at Oliver, ignoring him more times than not because of how depressed she felt, she couldn’t stay away from him. Eventually they would give in and put how they treated each other behind them, if only for a night.

Oliver slumped out of bed, clad in nothing but his briefs as he trailed silently into the kitchen. He leaned up against a wall, watching Afton as she prepared some coffee and opened a cupboard to retrieve her antibiotics.

“Good morning,” he whispered into her ear, getting close but not actually touching her. He had to do anything he could to get close, but not close enough to where Afton would shrug him off and begin another stint of ignoring him.

“Morning,” she forced out, her eyes barely flickering over to Oliver’s. He stood beside her, his body heat radiating onto her while he reached around her to grab two mugs.

“I was wonderin’ if you wanted to--”

“I really think I’m just going to stick around here today. I don’t feel well at all,” she snipped, cutting Oliver short before he had the chance to even propose his offer.

A little stunned and wounded from the sudden rejection, Oliver tried as best he could to compose himself again without getting defensive or mad. “Alright,” he breathed, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Everything became about Afton as soon as she was diagnosed. If she didn’t want to do anything, she wouldn’t have to. If she wanted everything, she would get it. Oliver was the doormat, the pleaser in the relationship who was doing anything and everything he could to get that much closer to Afton.

Somehow, she still wouldn’t have him.

A few more moments of silence passed before they both had a mug of coffee and were sitting down at the table together. Oliver’s eyebrows were raised in shock to the fact that Afton hadn’t stormed back to their room with her coffee, shutting the door and leaving Oliver to himself, once again, like he had been so many other mornings before.

“Look Af,” he started, his voice quiet and timid as he hoped he wouldn’t be cut short again, “I think we should talk. About yesterday.”

“There’s nowt to talk about,” she said, a hiss in her voice as she was still more than sore about the subject. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since she found the text from SJ on Oliver’s phone, which he then proceeded to yell at her about. Afton didn’t want to talk about it. It was hard enough learning that Oliver had cheated on her the first time two years ago, but learning that it might be happening again sent her rocketing over the edge.

“Yes, there is,” he pressed on, determination in his voice. This may be a suicide mission, but Oliver was convinced it would make things right. He had to own up to his own mistake, to admit that he himself knew SJ wasn’t someone he should ever interact with again. And he wanted to prove this to Afton, to prove she was the only one he wanted. “I made a mistake, alright? I know I did. I fucked up big time, again. What a surprise, since that’s all I seem to do these days, aye? But I want you to know that it was a mistake for me to see her. I shouldn’t have! I don’t even want anythin’ to do with her!”

His breathing had amplified and his heart was racing, hoping that Afton could accept this part of his apology.

An inkling of guilt crept onto Afton’s shoulders. “You’re not always fucking up big time, Oliver,” she said quietly, sighing. It was the only part of the conversation that jumped out to her. She wasn’t ready to talk about SJ yet. They’d need a few hours to get on with that subject.

Her eyes drifted to where they met his. It was more than obvious that he was hurt, that this was how he truly felt. Everything Afton did, Afton said, she had the power to make him or break him. And it scared Oliver that he let himself be held in someone else’s hands when all he did was drop him.

“Well, ‘s how you make me feel,” he admitted. His eyes didn’t falter while he stared at Afton, taking in how much different she seemed to look this morning.

It was like falling out of love with someone could be apparent by just looking at them.

“I do everything for you!” he continued, “I do anything I can fuckin’ think of to get you to talk to me, to stop mopin’ around and talkin’ about nothing but what’s gonna happen when you die. I’m sick of that! I’m sick of you pushing me away when all I want is for you to show me anything! Some sort of sign that you still want to be with me, because I don’t want to be with anyone but you!”

Her eyes fell, cast down to the table where her coffee mug sat. She could see her reflection in the dark coffee, suddenly looking into the mug was much easier than looking at the upset Oliver. Afton knew she had been hurting Oliver. She’d been hurting herself just as much with the talk of how her life could end. It was all she could think about of course, and for some reason she couldn’t see that someone was willing to be with her along the way and help. He was sitting right across from her, begging for her approval.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, her voice quiet while she didn’t dare drag her eyes up to meet Oliver’s.

But this wasn’t about him at the moment. She wasn’t supposed to feel bad.

He had just gone out with the girl he cheated with two years ago yesterday. He yelled at Afton for no reason. She had every right to be mad at him, not resenting herself for being consumed in her disease.

“I’m sorry if I make you feel that way. I don’t try to. But I’m scared. I’m so scared. And I know you want to help me through this, and be there for me. And sometimes I’m just not sure if I can reach out.” She looked up at him, a tinge of worry in her eyes. She wanted to tell him that knowing SJ was back in his life was more terrifying than anything. Knowing that Oliver might want to leave her, to go be happy with someone non-defective who could actually talk to him more days than not. “But I’m scared that you’re going to want to leave me. That you’ll want SJ again. And I’m not in the least happy that you went to see her.”

Bang.

Hearing that caused an explosion inside of Oliver. A volcano of emotion erupting as he fought to contain it all inside of him. His eyes went aflame and his hands flew to his head, fingers knotting his hair as he let out a noise of frustration.

He wanted to yell. To scream and shout to anyone who would listen and even scream in the faces of those who wouldn’t listen (namely Afton), that she was the only girl he wanted. The only one he could ever want.

Oliver took a few breaths to calm himself, so as to not scare Afton when his voice came out frustrated and angry with passion. “How many different fucking ways can I show you, tell you, that you’re the only person I want to spend my time with? Going out yesterday was a mistake! Yelling at you because I needed to take out my anger was a mistake! And the only thing I’m trying to do is show you that I only want you. Only you. Why can’t you hear me?”