Whiskey and Cigarettes

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

After my bath, Danny wrapped a towel around my body, tucking it so it wouldn't fall. He pulled a hairbrush through my hair before tying it into a loose bun. I watched him as he walked to my room and began looking through my dresser drawers and closet. "I'll be right back," he mumbled, walking out of my room and down the hall. I sat on my bed, breathing out a sigh of relief. Since he arrived, it had been quiet and tense between us. I might have just been the tense one. I don't really know. I could tell he had a lot to say, but I wasn't sure I really wanted to hear it.

He walked back into my room with some clothes in hand. One of his shirts was in his right hand and a pair of Lux's shorts were in his left. "Yours are all dirty," He mumbled again, shoving the items in my hands. I tossed my towel in the hamper and pulled on the clean clothes. He watched every move I made, making me feel comfortable. I sat back down on my bed, tucking my hands under my thighs and letting my gaze drift down to my feet.

"We need to talk," he stated. I nodded, still staring at my feet. "Look at me, Bay." Sighing, I lifted my eyes to his, which were surprisingly soft and sad. The look he was giving me tore my heart in two, and tears streamed down my face immediately. "Oh, baby," he sighed, pulling him into his arms.

I'm not sure how long we laid together- his arms wrapped around me, one hand on my hip and the other in my hair, and my face buried into his chest, soaking his shirt and my face. Eventually, I pushed myself off of his lap, wiping my face with the back of my hands. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he sat up as well, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair, and stared at the picture of us together on my dresser. "What is going on with you?" At the moment, I found a hole in my blanket much more appealing than the conversation ahead of us, but Danny quickly pulled my fingers away from the frayed material and laced my fingers with his. "Talk to me."

"Something happened when I realized you were leaving me, and it just got worse once you were gone."

"What do you mean?"

"It's too much!" My words had more power behind them then I meant, fueled by unspoken emotional that had been building up for months. "My brother killed himself. My brother, the only person who has ever cared about me, killed himself. And I could've stopped it, but I didn't. I chose my job over being there for him, and now he's gone."

"Bay-"

"Don't. You asked for what's going on so you're going to get all of it and not saying a fucking word until I tell you that you can." I waited to see if he'd listen before I continued. When I was sure he wouldn't speak, I got up from my bed and began pacing around my room. "I came here and met all of you, who I think are wonderful and amazing, but I never had the chance to process that my brother is gone. And now..." I let out a big sigh, contemplating my next words. "Now, I'm in love with you, and I feel like I don't know left from right when you're gone. I need you, and you left, and I was lost. I'm so lost. I don't know how you feel. I don't know if we're together. We just fuck and hang out. I'm just a fuck buddy, right? And I'm in love with you."

"First of all, you are not a fuck buddy," Danny said in a stern, almost angry voice as he got up from my bed and grabbed my wrists to keep me from pacing. "You are one of my best friends, and I have been telling everyone that you're my girlfriend. Because I love you, too. I do. I just... I wasn't saying it, because I thought it was too soon, and I didn't know what was going on with you."

I just stared at him in shock, my mouth hanging open. I'm pretty sure I looked like I was brain dead.

"And it is not your fault your brother killed himself. Also, you probably wouldn't have been able to stop him either," he pecked me on the lips and guided me to the bed. "There's a lot going on in your mind, Bay, a lot that you just keep in."

I nodded, swallowing the knot in my throat.

"I think you need to really see someone. This time for real."

"Okay." This time I wasn't lying, but the thought made me sick.

"Okay," He nodded, handing me the paper the doctor gave me from when I was in the hospital and the telephone. I made an appointment for the following week.