Status: CAUTION: Angst Ahead （○｀ε´○） ヾ
Annelise
2/2
“The fuck is this, Val?” Carter looks around my dumpy living room at the clear bottles that line the floor and even though I've ripped the labs off of em’. He just knows I was relapsing, ignoring what I get told every Tuesday, Sunday and Friday. “You haven’t even been going to AA a full week and you’re already drinking again?!” I hated the way he said week, it passed through his lips like a cuss word – like he was saying shit or fuck, making me feel dirty the way he hissed it out.
“Do you even wanna change? Why go if you’re just gonna shit all over em’, uh?” His voice followed him as he stormed out of the living room into God knows were. I was happy, even if he had gone to wreak havoc on some innocent part of my house. I was a happy for a moment without his nagging voice.
I and Carter had met in high school – I was flirting with his brother and then he just pushed me in the direction of his cherry boy brother, not at all interested in my sly smiles or fluttering eyelashes, and that was how I met Cater. He was awkward and pale and didn't mind my adoration for Annelise. He was perfect because he let me kiss him went I wanted something on my lips and he was warm when I wanted to cry after thinking about Annelise and Taylor too much, he was the best until our final year in high school where he confessed his love for me and followed me off to the college I was falling in Annelise’s footsteps to go to.
I was flattered - really, when he said he loved me and I still acted as his friend but he was just so much to handle sometimes. Like now, when he stormed into my house like he owned the place. I heard weird noises coming from the direction of the kitchen and then there was this yummy smell hanging in the air like a thick fog that had been foreign to this house for such a long time, I was beside myself when I noticed I still had a stomach. When had I stopped eating? I sat unmoving, aware of my growling need, and just listened to the jingles and clinks coming from the kitchen, wondering why he knew me so well. Why he cared to know an ungrateful wasting away women like me so well, when he could have something so much better because even through his awkward faze in high school Cater had always been better than me.
He decided to walk back into the room when I finally couldn't take it anymore and was going to limp into the kitchen and beg for food if I had to. He placed a plate of delicious looking star-fry on the smudged glass end table, poking me in the cheek. “Eat.” He demanded simply plopping down next to me as I shoved the still hot food into my awaiting mouth, burning my tongue a few times, as I went.
“ You've lost weight, V.” It wasn't a question; it was a fact that stared me down hard whenever I got dressed to go outside, only to have to keep a tight hold on my clothes wherever I went. He poked me again this time in my side and I know what he felt were bones not the fatty tissue that should've covered my hips. He looks at me almost with this painful expression and I can’t help the feeling that bubbled up in my chest wishing his earlier words were a question so I could at least try to deny them instead of sitting here stuffing my face like a pig dumbly, with nothing to say.
“I've lost weight.” I agree gently looking down at my now empty plate. “You look unhealthy. I mean I know you miss her very much, like a lot– but fuck, there’s still you. And to me, right now your body is crying and you refuse to listen it. Alcohol can only get you so far, Val. You’re wasting away. I don’t want to not be able to hear you laugh again, so take care. I need you.” I stay silent after his gently spoken words because fuck he’s right and fuck he still loves me, it wasn't a forgotten detail but when he was looking at me with eyes that practically looked like hearts themselves. It was hard to pass over his loving words and tender expression as just being friends like I liked to do.
The fact that he had stayed faithful to the heart that had sought after me for ten years hit me like a knee in my now full stomach.
I had two choices, I could throw up telling him how I felt like I could never really love him and about how I was a mess and that I was broken and scared and me. Or I could force the vomit back down like I had done all these years and let us teeter on like this, broken and raw covered in lies and heading fast towards his impeding heartbreak, both choices were ghastly to me. In either choice he would always suffer the more pain and I knew what it was like to hurt from having your heart snapped in two by the one you love. If I was to hurt him, I wanted to so in a way I would hold his same amount of pain. If we couldn't be the life partners he so wanted then we could at least be partners in suffering.
“What are we gonna do, Carter?” I ask honestly my head moving to rest on his slightly bony shoulder. “If you go on loving something like this,” My hand lazily gestures up and down my fragile frame. “You’re gonna fuck around and get your heart broken.” I shut my eyes, the smell of same type of spice and cinnamon invading my nostrils and making my heart hiccup slightly.
“I’m gonna break your heart, Carter.” I whisper apprehensively, my voice is quivering and my hands clench into fists on my lap. “I’m gonna break you.” I say firmly, my voice less wobbly as I bury nose into his neck and inhale spice and cinnamon. “Try me.” He scoffs as he runs his hand through my disheveled locks, and then I’m kissing him like I did in high school because I wanted something on my lips.
“Do you even wanna change? Why go if you’re just gonna shit all over em’, uh?” His voice followed him as he stormed out of the living room into God knows were. I was happy, even if he had gone to wreak havoc on some innocent part of my house. I was a happy for a moment without his nagging voice.
I and Carter had met in high school – I was flirting with his brother and then he just pushed me in the direction of his cherry boy brother, not at all interested in my sly smiles or fluttering eyelashes, and that was how I met Cater. He was awkward and pale and didn't mind my adoration for Annelise. He was perfect because he let me kiss him went I wanted something on my lips and he was warm when I wanted to cry after thinking about Annelise and Taylor too much, he was the best until our final year in high school where he confessed his love for me and followed me off to the college I was falling in Annelise’s footsteps to go to.
I was flattered - really, when he said he loved me and I still acted as his friend but he was just so much to handle sometimes. Like now, when he stormed into my house like he owned the place. I heard weird noises coming from the direction of the kitchen and then there was this yummy smell hanging in the air like a thick fog that had been foreign to this house for such a long time, I was beside myself when I noticed I still had a stomach. When had I stopped eating? I sat unmoving, aware of my growling need, and just listened to the jingles and clinks coming from the kitchen, wondering why he knew me so well. Why he cared to know an ungrateful wasting away women like me so well, when he could have something so much better because even through his awkward faze in high school Cater had always been better than me.
He decided to walk back into the room when I finally couldn't take it anymore and was going to limp into the kitchen and beg for food if I had to. He placed a plate of delicious looking star-fry on the smudged glass end table, poking me in the cheek. “Eat.” He demanded simply plopping down next to me as I shoved the still hot food into my awaiting mouth, burning my tongue a few times, as I went.
“ You've lost weight, V.” It wasn't a question; it was a fact that stared me down hard whenever I got dressed to go outside, only to have to keep a tight hold on my clothes wherever I went. He poked me again this time in my side and I know what he felt were bones not the fatty tissue that should've covered my hips. He looks at me almost with this painful expression and I can’t help the feeling that bubbled up in my chest wishing his earlier words were a question so I could at least try to deny them instead of sitting here stuffing my face like a pig dumbly, with nothing to say.
“I've lost weight.” I agree gently looking down at my now empty plate. “You look unhealthy. I mean I know you miss her very much, like a lot– but fuck, there’s still you. And to me, right now your body is crying and you refuse to listen it. Alcohol can only get you so far, Val. You’re wasting away. I don’t want to not be able to hear you laugh again, so take care. I need you.” I stay silent after his gently spoken words because fuck he’s right and fuck he still loves me, it wasn't a forgotten detail but when he was looking at me with eyes that practically looked like hearts themselves. It was hard to pass over his loving words and tender expression as just being friends like I liked to do.
The fact that he had stayed faithful to the heart that had sought after me for ten years hit me like a knee in my now full stomach.
I had two choices, I could throw up telling him how I felt like I could never really love him and about how I was a mess and that I was broken and scared and me. Or I could force the vomit back down like I had done all these years and let us teeter on like this, broken and raw covered in lies and heading fast towards his impeding heartbreak, both choices were ghastly to me. In either choice he would always suffer the more pain and I knew what it was like to hurt from having your heart snapped in two by the one you love. If I was to hurt him, I wanted to so in a way I would hold his same amount of pain. If we couldn't be the life partners he so wanted then we could at least be partners in suffering.
“What are we gonna do, Carter?” I ask honestly my head moving to rest on his slightly bony shoulder. “If you go on loving something like this,” My hand lazily gestures up and down my fragile frame. “You’re gonna fuck around and get your heart broken.” I shut my eyes, the smell of same type of spice and cinnamon invading my nostrils and making my heart hiccup slightly.
“I’m gonna break your heart, Carter.” I whisper apprehensively, my voice is quivering and my hands clench into fists on my lap. “I’m gonna break you.” I say firmly, my voice less wobbly as I bury nose into his neck and inhale spice and cinnamon. “Try me.” He scoffs as he runs his hand through my disheveled locks, and then I’m kissing him like I did in high school because I wanted something on my lips.