Misery Loves It's Company

Peter and I have been going out for a good 4 months now. I thought I knew everything there was to know about him. Guess I was wrong.

Peter and I were sitting on a bench at a park in New York making fun of random people walking down the street. I know it’s mean but hey we’re just some 23 year olds trying to have some fun. Anyways his cell began to ring.

“Yeah?” he said in his deep attractive voice. I sighed happily and pecked him on the cheek. He smiled at me making my heart melt, but then his face dropped and he had an extremely serious look on his face. I automatically went into alert mode and sat up straight. Pete’s arm that was draped delicately around my shoulder was now stiff and at his side.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

He ignored my question and responded to the phone, “What? I didn’t even know…. I just saw….I can’t believe this.” His face became angry, then sad, and then depressed. As all of these emotions were riding across his face, I only wanted to do one thing, comfort him. I wrapped my arms around him but he shook his head and stood up, leaving me speechless on the bench.

He sighed sadly. It almost made me want to cry. “Yeah I’ll be over there soon. Just give me some time to drop my girlfriend off at home. Okay. Yeah, I know. Okay bye,” he said and hung up. He slowly placed the phone back into his jacket pocket. His head hung low and his hair blocked his eyes. I stood up quickly and went over to him. I placed and hand on his shoulder but he didn’t look up.

“I have to get you back to the apartment,” he said lifting his head up again. His hair still covered his eyes but I saw a single tear drop fall and hit the ground.

“Oh Pete,” I said sadly.

“Come on,” he said patiently and took my hand. He walked me to the car and opened the door for me. He went around to the other side and came into the car. The chilly November air blew his hair a bit and I was able to see his eyes. They were watery and sad. He looked torn and I wanted to know why. He shut the door and quickly covered his eyes again. He knew I hated to see him sad because it made me sad too.

“Peter?” I asked barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” he asked keeping his eyes on the road.

I wanted so bad to ask him why he was so sad but I figured that now was not the time so instead I said, “Never mind.”

“I’ll tell you everything when I get back okay?” he asked glancing through his hair at me.

“When will you be getting back?” I asked. He reached out and took my hand. He squeezed it comfortingly.

“I don’t know,” he said flatly. The rest of the ride back to our apartment was silent.

“I’ll see you later,” he said.

My hand froze on the door handle. “You’re not coming in?” I asked.

“No, I have to get going,” he said looking at the watch on his wrist. I frowned and stepped out of the car. “Bye,” I said and shut the door. I walked around the car and he rolled down the window.

“Wait,” he called. I walked over to him and leaned down so that we were face to face. The hair was finally moved away from his eyes. There was no more water in his eyes but there was still sadness, so much sadness. He leaned forward and kissed me. It was a sorrowful kiss and it only lasted about 3 seconds. He pulled away and gave me a fake smile; I could tell he was trying to be reassuring.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” I said and backed away from the car as he sped down the road.
I sighed and made my way up the many stairs to our apartment on the top floor. The elevator was out of order.

I unlocked the door and threw my keys in the key bowl by the door. I walked over to the couch and fell down on it. I was satisfied that my mom had given us one of the most comfortable couches in the world. I wanted to be able to relax but I was just too worried. The phone rang and I got freaked out so much that I fell off the couch. I quickly ran over to the phone and picked it up.

“Hello?” I said frantically.

“Adrian?” said an unrecognizable voice.

“Uh no,” I said a little out of breath.

“Sorry, wrong number,” he said hurriedly and hung up. I gave out a frustrated cry and threw my hands up in the air. I wanted to talk to Pete so badly. I started to pace the room when I realized I had only been in the apartment for 10 minutes. I went into the bedroom and lied down on the huge bed. It took a while but I finally fell asleep.

I heard the door open to the bedroom and some quiet footsteps. There was some shuffling and then a thud followed by a groan, than the bed moved a little.

“Peter?” I questioned sleepy.

“Shh, go back to bed,” he said. I felt his bare chest against my back and I breathed in his scent. It smelled off somehow. Not like him at all. I pulled myself away from his grip and turned to face him. His eyes were closed and his hair was everywhere like he had just been in a storm.

“Peter?” I said smoothing his hair gently with my hand. He sighed in pleasure.

“Yeah?” he questioned barely above a whisper. His eyes were still closed and he was smiling slightly.

“Where were you?” I asked removing my hand. He frowned; I’m not sure whether it was because of where he had been or if it was because I removed my hand.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” he asked turning so that his back was facing me. Before he had turned I realized what it was that made him smell different.

“You’re drunk,” I said in disgust.

“Probably,” he mumbled.

“Ugh,” I said and got out of bed. Peter slowly sat up in bed.

“Aw don’t leave,” he said slurring slightly.

“I have to, you’re drunk. I’m going to sleep on the couch,” I said.

“Bella please,” he begged. I felt like crying. He was so sad and now he was drunk which caused him to become more sad.

“Peter please. Just go to sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow like you said.”

“Will you come back to bed with me?” he asked.

“Sure Pete, sure.”

He smiled and laid back down. I stared at him for awhile until I heard him snore. I walked quietly over to the bed and grabbed my pillow, and then I walked over to our closet and grabbed a blanket. I walked to the couch and set it up. I shed one tear before I closed my eyes tightly and went to sleep.