I Might Be Holding Your Hand, but I'm Holding It Loose.

"You don't need to look so panic stricken," she smiled, offering him her hand as they sat on her sofa. The pillows sunk further down on his side; the more worn side. It was more apt for him.
"It's natural to be worried in these kind of instances," he whispered, pulling his knees up to his chest. "She's going to kill me..."
"No she isn't."
"How can you be so fucking sure?" he grumbled.
"Because," she smirked, biting into a cucumber stick. "You're not going back."
"What? I thought that this was just a 'make me happier' couple of days... not a 'kidnap me for all your sexual pleasures' couple of days."
"One, I wouldn't kidnap you for that reason anyway, and two, in order to help you, I need you to stay away from that emotion sucking cow." she shrugged nonchalantly. "Plus, I have handcuffs, and if you even so much think as leaving, I can whip those babies out in an instant."
"You wouldn't," he scowled and jumped backwards, in the direction of the door, soon tackled to the ground, Emma straddling his bony hips.
"I'll suffocate you with my breasts, B. And I'm not joking. Not one bit,"
"Go ahead." he smirked, and she couldn't help but grin with pride, because in normal instances he could have backed up and cowered. Now, he was being jesty and a little cocky; the person everyone had missed. He wouldn't be here for long, and she prayed it wasn't a one way trip.
"Sure," she laughed as he tried to wriggle from underneath her. Emma lowered so her chest was squashed into his face, causing him to squirm more and bite her, so she quickly retracting, a trail of expletives leaving her mouth.
"You bit my boob. You actually bit my boob,"
"Hey, I'll do what it takes to get out of here. I'm not afraid of a little breast nibbling here and there," he chuckled, it slowly fading out as he came to a realization of what he'd actually said.
"Why do you want to leave?" she asked softly, holding his hands, stroking her thumb over his knuckles.
"Because I love her," he said simply.
"But she's not good to you. You deserve better and you know it. Why won't you open up and tell me that you know this isn't how love should feel? It shouldn't make you cry and hurt, Brendon. It shouldn't make you sigh when you realize you have to go back to her. It should make you grin and get that sprinkling of a blush you get when you're excited."
"Shut the fuck up," he whispered, becoming limp beneath her. "Stop it. You can't tell me who I'm in love with and who I'm not."
He held her hips tightly and sat up, so she was now across his thighs. He cupped her face and ghosted his lips over hers, whispering, "Just because you still love me, doesn't mean I can't love anybody else."
He puckered, so their lips touched.
"Yes," she choked out, standing up and wiping her mouth in a disgusted manor. "You fucking man whore. You're in the worst place you've been in your life, and you're still being a man whore! You can't have two people, Brendon! You can't toy with two people's emotions again, you can't! I won't, I won't have it..." she breathed out a staggered sob as his arms wrapped around her middle. His lips left little butterfly kisses down her neck.
"There's only one person I want," he whispered. "And then there's the person I have, who I'm in unrequited love with."
"All you have to do is say who you want, Brendon. Say who you want and tell the person who you don't want, and then all this confusion in your head can die down. It's as easy as A B C,"
"If it's really that easy, then I guess I don't know my alphabet," he chuckled a little, it progressing into a sigh as his lips hit her neck again.
She turned around so they could hug properly, tightly, compassionately. Her hand nestled itself into his hair and she couldn't help but cry, because she knew the outcome of this. She knew he wasn't stable enough to figure out what really was best, and for him to choose the best option, he had to be in a good state of mind. It was this unbreakable cycle that only one person knew the solution to; Brendon Urie.
"I'm sorry," he whispered and pressed a kiss to her forehead, slowly pulling out of her embrace. "It's not you I want."
"B-But you said you w-were in unrequited love?" she stuttered, wiping her streaming her eyes. "How? How does that work?"
"You love me, Emma. I don't love you. That's unrequited." he said simply, slinging his bag over his shoulder, leaving, not even waving, just shrugging, the door remaining open.

Just fucking shrugging.