If Love Is The Answer, Could You Repeat The Question?

So it’s like this: You wake up before anyone else the next morning and you’re getting really annoyed with not being able to sleep past 8:30 in the morning.

You quietly slip out of your bunk, forcing yourself to ignore the fact that his curtain is open enough for you to see his face. You make coffee and curl into the spot on the couch, staring blankly across the bus, thoughts spinning around in your mind.

It was safe to say that none of them were going to be awake for another four or five hours so you could give in to the urge to crawl into his bunk and apologize for getting angry again and apologize in general for having a short temper that he’s really good at setting off. But it seems that when you’re mad at him, he turns around to returns the emotion like a reflective surface, so he’d probably just push you out and roll over, leaving you feeling more hurt and rejected than you already do.

You left your spot momentarily to pour yourself a cup of coffee when it was done brewing. You hugged the mug close to you. The bus was freezing thanks to someone leaving the air conditioning on all night.

You searched through the options you had left to deal with this entire situation. You knew that even if you didn’t go apologize right now, by the end of the day or early tomorrow one of you would come crawling to the other, saying sorry and then you’d make out and things would be fine again until another one of his insensitive thoughts came out and then it was rinse and repeat. Had you been in an optimistic or good mood, that would have sounded perfectly fine, but the realistic, practical mood that was wrapped around you said differently.

You were getting really sick of this routine anyway, no matter what mood you were in. You were sick of being a secret, sick of feeling like you weren’t good enough, sick of his constant need to keep this undercover and just sick of not being able to be open about it. Not to mention that you were also lying to everyone around you, which isn’t really the best first impression to make? To add to this, he still won’t give your affair a proper title. You start to think that maybe there was a specific reason for him not calling it a relationship. With no definite label, it would be easier for him to end things without calling it a break up.

You sat there for a solid hour, thoughts rolling around, organizing them and trying to think through the clouds of lust and want that were shadowing your proper judgement. Had this been with anyone else, you would have immediately demanded either a relationship or nothing, but with him everything was mixed up and wonderfully backwards. It was just the affect he had on you. No one else was able to make you feel like you were toppling from the top of the Empire State building, free falling with no end in sight, with very little air to breathe in and a swarm of butterflies invading your abdomen with one look. No one else was able to make that warm, fuzzy feeling spread through every part of your body and be able to set it ablaze, the heat and sparks enough to set everything around you on fire with a single flash of a smile. And it was those things that made this decision so fucking hard to make.

But you also knew that the chance of him feeling anywhere close to that for you was next to none. If he did things would be drastically different than they are now.

It was just after you had made your final decision on what to do when he came sauntering out of the bunk area; boxer’s hanging low on his hips, his hair a mess of midnight black tangles. His arms were already drastically tanner than the rest of his body from spending the day in the sun yesterday. He absent mindedly ran a hand through his hair, arm muscles flexing slightly before he poured himself coffee. God dammit, he was just so beautiful.

He turned, sleepy chocolate brown eyes meeting yours as if he could feel you staring at him. He gave you a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes before sitting across from you in his usual place.

“I’m sorry for being a bitch last night.” You say quietly, eyes never leaving his.

“It’s okay. I realize that what I said to Alex last night was probably really hurtful.” He says equally as quiet, dropping his gaze to the floor, guilt flooding them before they left yours. That look alone almost undid all the decisions you made in your head.

“Just a little,” You mumble.

“I didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh when I said it, it just kinda fell out before I could think it through.”

“It’s fine.” You take a subtle deep breath before saying, “But can we talk, like not here or now, but after the show, alone?”

His eyes shoot up to meet yours again; alarm and panic staring back at you, “Yeah sure.”

“Okay.” You say so quietly you’re not sure he heard you before getting up and starting to get ready for the day.

You take your time in the bathroom, smudging eyeliner around your eyes that are more green than their usual blue color today and brushing your hair out after showering. You didn’t want to face him and those wide brown eyes and their silent questions. Thankfully when you were done dawdling in the bathroom you came out to find him already gone to start unloading. You knew that once you started working he wasn’t going to push to know with everyone else around.

The day seemed to drag by, which was fine by you because you were slowly starting to freak out about this and second guess what you were doing so the longer you had to wait to talk to him, the better. You couldn’t help but notice the looks he was giving you as the day progressed, the lingering stares as you’d walk past him carrying boxes of merch and the quick glances as you joked around with Danny and Vinny, pretending like you all didn’t have something more important to be doing. You noticed them all, but you didn’t acknowledge them, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes all day.

The second the opening band took to the stage things sped up quickly and before you knew it, it was time to tear the stage down and load it all back up.

As the seconds ticked down you started to freak out even more. You never had a problem with confrontations before so you didn’t understand why this one was causing your hands to tremble. There he goes again; being the only exception to everything you thought you knew about yourself.

Tearing down took drastically less time than setting up and you were hoping that maybe he had forgotten about it but as soon as you closed the door to the trailer he was next to you.

“Where do you want to go?” He asks, looking down at you in the dim light from the venue behind him. You take his hand, looking to see if anyone was around and pull him away from the buses. The show tonight was on a college campus so you walk down a small path until you figure you’re far enough away so no one can hear or see you.

Before you can say anything he’s kissing you. It’s needy and urgent, like he’s trying to convince you that you don’t really need to talk about anything. You pull back after a few moments, trying not to let lust leak into your thoughts.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Us,” You answer quietly and now it sounds like you’re going to get all sappy and talk about your feelings and that’s really not why you’re here for the most part because you actually really hate talking about feelings.

“What about us?” He asks cautiously.

You take a deep breath and finally spit out what you’ve needed to say all day. “Okay look, this has been going on for almost a month now and you still haven’t told anyone about it. I’m not someone you can play with like this, okay?”

“I—”He starts.

“I’m not done.” You need to get this out and there’s no turning back now. “So it’s either you tell Alex and Vinny and everyone else about us by tomorrow or this, whatever this is, is over.”

You’ve never given someone an ultimatum before and it’s really not as fun as it sounds. There’s an extended silence between you and him and you can see him chewing on his lip ring. His face is completely blank and it’s too dark to see his eyes.

“So are you going to come clean?” You ask eventually.

“Why are you so persistent on everyone knowing about us hooking up all the time?” He asks, avoiding the question like always.

“Because I’m fucking sick of being your dirty little secret,” You almost snap and he makes an irritated noise. “I’m sick of being treated like something more than a friend but when anyone asks, it means nothing to you. Do you realize that you’ve been lying to your friends for the past two weeks? How are they going to feel when they find out? Or is that why you won’t tell them? Or is it because you’re ashamed to actually be with me?”

There was another silence and he shifted uncomfortably under the dark glare you were giving him. “Are you going to answer or just stand there?”

“I don’t want to tell them.” He finally says.

“So what, you were just planning on keep this a secret from them until they figured it out themselves or we stopped and you found someone else better than me?” You’re almost yelling now. A few seconds went past and you drop your voice, “Do you even have feelings for me?”

“What?” He asks, the question throwing him off.

“Do you have feelings for me?” You repeat.

You held your breath while you waited for him to answer, the seconds now dragging by again. In the little bit of light coming from around you, you see him shake his head slowly, refusing to look at you. It took a second for the movement to sink in and hit home.

You hid all the hurt and anger that flooded your body, blinking back tears that you wouldn’t let fall in front of him.

“You know what? I’m done. I am no longer your dirty little secret anymore. We are done.”

That finally broke him out of his silent trance. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m not doing this anymore because the only thing I’m getting out of this is hurt. This is over.” It almost literally hurt to say but you got it out before going to walk away but he grabbed your arm.

“No stop.” He pleads. You try to pull your arm from his grip.

“Let me go.” You demand, pulling harder.

“I didn’t—” He starts but you cut him off.

“I don’t want to hear it.” You snap, finally jerking yourself from his grip. It takes all of your self-control not to start running to the bus, instead you walk calmly away, leaving him standing there staring after you.

You get back to the bus and you can hear that there are more people than usual but you don’t care as you push past them all, trying to hide the tears sliding down your face. You decide that the empty back lounge was a slightly better to have a break down in than your bunk. You slide the door closed behind you and sink into the cold leather couches, letting more tears fall. This wasn’t what you were expecting when you thought it out this morning and it all blew up in your face. You could tell if the regret pooling in your stomach was from bringing this up or from being with him at all, but it was there.

There was a quiet knock at the door. You weren’t in any state to talk to anyone but your curiosity of who was there won.

“Y-yeah,” You called out.

“Can I come in?” Alex’s voice was muffled by the door. You were pretty sure if it had been anyone else but him, you would have said no.

“Yes” You answer and the door slides open, a flood of noise from the front lounge leaking in as Alex slipped in. The noise was immediately cut off when the door was close again. Wow, they don’t cheap out when they make these buses.

Alex sits down next to you, “What’s wrong?”

You consider not telling him and just saying you were PMSing or something but the genuinely concerned look on his face and the comforting warmth of his body made you crack and you spilled the entire scene that had just happened to him quietly between a few broken sobs because it really hurt to think about and hurt even more to talk about.

Once you had started telling Alex you just couldn’t seem to stop and everything from now right back to him standing on your doorstep a month ago fell from your mouth. He put a comforting arm around you when you finally stopped talking and just sat there sniffling. You felt a little bit better, finally being able to let everything out and talk about it.

“Can you just not tell anybody all of that?” You ask, “No one is supposed to know about it.” You had probably mentioned that like eight times while explaining the situation to him but you threw it in one last time for good measure.

Alex chuckled and you didn’t really see what was so funny.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because everyone already knows,” He answered.

“What?” You almost shrieked.

“That was a poor choice in wording.” Alex shook his head. At least he could admit it unlike other people. “Everyone already figured that there was something going on between you and him, not about all the other stuff you told me, and be sure that will stay a secret.”

“How’d you guys know?”

“By the way you look at each other. You can do all you can to hide your actions, but just the way you’d both look at each other from across the room made it really obvious that there was something more between you two.”

You thought back to how Vinny pointed the same thing out two weeks ago.

“Well apparently all that “something more” is only one sided” You mumbled bitterly. You had a habit of converting your hurt into anger because it was easier to deal with.

“You don’t actually believe that do you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? He said it himself.”

“He lied.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve known that man for years and years and I know when he’s in love.”

Your eyebrows shot up at Alex’s statement and you snorted, “He’s not in love with me.”

That was probably the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard Alex say, and he says a lot of absurd things. There was no way he could be in love with you. You don’t treat the people you’re in love with like that. And plus, you don’t even believe in love.

“He is, he’s just scared and doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Alex says and you shake your head.

“I really doubt that.” You yawn loudly and stand up, Alex following suit.

“Just don’t give up okay?” He says, pulling you into a comforting hug before stepping out of the back lounge to join the commotion in the front. You don’t make a single promise on that because you’ve already given up. You didn’t want to try anymore because you didn’t want to get hurt anymore.

You quietly slip out of the back lounge and walk the short distance to your bunk but not before noticing the familiar pair of legs on the couch, laughing with the others like nothing ever happened. You were glad to know that someone could bounce back and move on quickly.

So it’s like this: It’s not a break up because you were never really together, right?