Thank You, Gravity
Messy Apartments Don't Lead to Making Out.
Nick's P.O.V
I wake up before Joe, looking around the room a little. His room, of course, is a mess. Clothes and notebooks everywhere, one guitar on the floor and one on a stand, random torn papers and books littering the carpet. I roll over on my back, being careful not to disturb Joe. As I'm getting up his eyes open and he's looking up at me.
"Mornin," he says, rubbing his eyes as he sits up. I nod silently, sitting up in bed and pushing my hair out of my eyes. I shove the covers off me and slide off the bed, stubbing my toe on something on the floor.
"Dammit!" I exhale sharply through my teeth, wincing with pain. "Don't you ever clean this place?!" Joe shrugs, and rubs his still tired eyes again. I look out the window and the and rain has stopped, but the sky is grey and cloudy. It's almost two PM. I notice I'm still wearing my skinny jeans and shirt. "I'm going to go change," I say, standing up.
"No, you're not." Joe moves to the other side of the bed and grabs the back of my shirt as I'm getting up, pulling me back down. "You're going to tell me what's wrong."
"Joe, come on," I plead, looking down at my feet. Joe sighs deeply, sounding annoyed, but he gives in.
"Alright. I'm going to make some food, and then and you're going to tell me what's bugging you." That sounds reasonable, and I agree though I don't really want to talk about it. Talking just brought all the memories back, and I don't want to tell Joe anyway.
Joe smiles and lets my shirt go, and we both get out of bed. Joe's still in his boxers, and I go into my room to change.
I meet him in the little kitchen. I smile slightly at him and he nods back with a grin. I sit down at the table, still rubbing my eyes, and he piles some bacon and pancakes on to my plate. I just kind of look at them, poking them with the fork. I start eating a pancake, only because I know Joe will tell me to if I don't. He sits down next to me with a huge plate of food.
We eat mostly in silence, and I only eat one pancake before I start gazing absently out the window at the parking lot. Joe puts his fork down and looks at me.
"Okay, Nicky, what's wrong with you?" he asks gently. I don't respond. "Nick," he says more firmly. I turn to look at him. I shrug. "Nothing."
"Nick, it's not nothing. Please, Nicky, just talk to me?" he pleads, looking into my eyes. "I can't stand seeing you so sad! And you hardly ate anything. It's not healthy to be like, this Nick, just talk to me."
I feel tears prick the back of my eyes as I whisper, "I miss her."
"Nicky..." Joe whispers sympathetically, putting his hand on top of mine. My first instinct is to pull it away, but I let him keep it there. "I know you do. I miss Mom too, Nick. But do you think she'd be happy with the way you've been living? You're getting skinnier, It's not healthy. Don't you want to make her proud of you?"
"I..." I whisper, finding it useless to try to stop the tears from falling. "It's hard," I put my head in my hands, starting to cry silently.
"Nick, Nick, please don't cry!" He puts his hand on my chin and turns my face toward him, and a tear is running down his cheek. "I know it's hard. I know it is, Nicky." he says softly. "But we're going to be okay," I look down at my shoes and squeeze my eyes shut. His hand is still on mine.
"I can't live without her, Joe," I sob. "You're so much stronger than me."
"No I'm not, Nick." he murmurs. "You're amazingly strong. And I know you can get through this." He leans over and kisses me on the cheek, making my whole body tingle and feel like jelly. I slide my chair a little closer to his and scoot onto his lap, so I'm straddling him. Resting my head on his shoulder I try to contain my crying as he runs a hand through my hair. I lift my head back up and look at him. He wipes a tear from my eye and looks at me lovingly, moving his face closer to mine. I know what he's about to do and I lean back.
"Joe, no," I say firmly, resisting. He has a hurt look on his face.
"Nicky, what's wrong?"
"I don't want to kiss you." I state flatly.
"Why not, baby?" he asks, sounding wounded.
"Because I just don't. And it's wrong."
"We're both going to hell already, if you're worried about that. It's been that way for a while." Joe states.
"Maybe that's just it, Joe!" suddenly I'm furious. "Maybe I want to go and be with Mom when I die, but that's not fucking going to happen because of you."
"Woah, Nick, so now you're mad at me?!" Joe seems taken aback. I glare at him angrily.
"Maybe I shouldn't even be here. I can go live with Kevin." I state, sliding off his lap.
"Nick...please..." Joe bites his lip, following me as I'm heading to my room.
"Stay away from me." I growl. "You've fucked me up enough."
I wake up before Joe, looking around the room a little. His room, of course, is a mess. Clothes and notebooks everywhere, one guitar on the floor and one on a stand, random torn papers and books littering the carpet. I roll over on my back, being careful not to disturb Joe. As I'm getting up his eyes open and he's looking up at me.
"Mornin," he says, rubbing his eyes as he sits up. I nod silently, sitting up in bed and pushing my hair out of my eyes. I shove the covers off me and slide off the bed, stubbing my toe on something on the floor.
"Dammit!" I exhale sharply through my teeth, wincing with pain. "Don't you ever clean this place?!" Joe shrugs, and rubs his still tired eyes again. I look out the window and the and rain has stopped, but the sky is grey and cloudy. It's almost two PM. I notice I'm still wearing my skinny jeans and shirt. "I'm going to go change," I say, standing up.
"No, you're not." Joe moves to the other side of the bed and grabs the back of my shirt as I'm getting up, pulling me back down. "You're going to tell me what's wrong."
"Joe, come on," I plead, looking down at my feet. Joe sighs deeply, sounding annoyed, but he gives in.
"Alright. I'm going to make some food, and then and you're going to tell me what's bugging you." That sounds reasonable, and I agree though I don't really want to talk about it. Talking just brought all the memories back, and I don't want to tell Joe anyway.
Joe smiles and lets my shirt go, and we both get out of bed. Joe's still in his boxers, and I go into my room to change.
I meet him in the little kitchen. I smile slightly at him and he nods back with a grin. I sit down at the table, still rubbing my eyes, and he piles some bacon and pancakes on to my plate. I just kind of look at them, poking them with the fork. I start eating a pancake, only because I know Joe will tell me to if I don't. He sits down next to me with a huge plate of food.
We eat mostly in silence, and I only eat one pancake before I start gazing absently out the window at the parking lot. Joe puts his fork down and looks at me.
"Okay, Nicky, what's wrong with you?" he asks gently. I don't respond. "Nick," he says more firmly. I turn to look at him. I shrug. "Nothing."
"Nick, it's not nothing. Please, Nicky, just talk to me?" he pleads, looking into my eyes. "I can't stand seeing you so sad! And you hardly ate anything. It's not healthy to be like, this Nick, just talk to me."
I feel tears prick the back of my eyes as I whisper, "I miss her."
"Nicky..." Joe whispers sympathetically, putting his hand on top of mine. My first instinct is to pull it away, but I let him keep it there. "I know you do. I miss Mom too, Nick. But do you think she'd be happy with the way you've been living? You're getting skinnier, It's not healthy. Don't you want to make her proud of you?"
"I..." I whisper, finding it useless to try to stop the tears from falling. "It's hard," I put my head in my hands, starting to cry silently.
"Nick, Nick, please don't cry!" He puts his hand on my chin and turns my face toward him, and a tear is running down his cheek. "I know it's hard. I know it is, Nicky." he says softly. "But we're going to be okay," I look down at my shoes and squeeze my eyes shut. His hand is still on mine.
"I can't live without her, Joe," I sob. "You're so much stronger than me."
"No I'm not, Nick." he murmurs. "You're amazingly strong. And I know you can get through this." He leans over and kisses me on the cheek, making my whole body tingle and feel like jelly. I slide my chair a little closer to his and scoot onto his lap, so I'm straddling him. Resting my head on his shoulder I try to contain my crying as he runs a hand through my hair. I lift my head back up and look at him. He wipes a tear from my eye and looks at me lovingly, moving his face closer to mine. I know what he's about to do and I lean back.
"Joe, no," I say firmly, resisting. He has a hurt look on his face.
"Nicky, what's wrong?"
"I don't want to kiss you." I state flatly.
"Why not, baby?" he asks, sounding wounded.
"Because I just don't. And it's wrong."
"We're both going to hell already, if you're worried about that. It's been that way for a while." Joe states.
"Maybe that's just it, Joe!" suddenly I'm furious. "Maybe I want to go and be with Mom when I die, but that's not fucking going to happen because of you."
"Woah, Nick, so now you're mad at me?!" Joe seems taken aback. I glare at him angrily.
"Maybe I shouldn't even be here. I can go live with Kevin." I state, sliding off his lap.
"Nick...please..." Joe bites his lip, following me as I'm heading to my room.
"Stay away from me." I growl. "You've fucked me up enough."