I Can Taste the Failure

I scoffed, “I don’t need you, Oliver.”

Oliver’s eyes were hard; he held my gaze for what seemed like forever. The television droned on, though I couldn’t hear anything but the thud of my heart. My mind was scrambled; the worst part was that I couldn’t tell if what I had said was the truth or a lie.

He climbed to his feet and perched himself on the edge of the couch next to me. His eyes were determined; I couldn’t look away. He leaned foreword, pausing a centimeter away from my lips. His hand reached up to touch my cheek. My heart thudded harder while I stared at him, a doe in the headlights waiting to be slaughtered. Our breathed mingled as my breathing sped up. He leaned foreword even more, decreasing the space between our lips, whispering, “Do you need me now, Holley?”

My lips parted, though only silence leaked out. My lips formed his name.

Oliver’s fingers lightly trailed my jaw line. I closed my eyes.

“Won’t you tell me?”

I opened up my eyes; he was so close. I wanted to touch him, every part of him, kiss him because he wanted me to.

“Oliver,” I breathed. “I can’t… think…”

Oliver leaned foreword, pushing me onto my back. His body monopolized mine; I laid under him, staring up into his eyes, warm, brown.

His lips met my jaw line. His hands trailed under the white tank top covering my torso. His lips touched my ear, and he said in a whisper, “Tell me you need me.”

In that second, I knew I did.

“I… I need you.”

Disclaimer: I don't own Bring Me The Horiz... fuck, I wish I did.