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Yungblud:

Home - Angst

Dom’s POV

I stumbled through the front door of our apartment, closing the door after wrestling my keys out of the lock. I chucked my bag down by the door, kicking off my shoes, and proceeding to walk through the flat in a search for her. All I could focus on was the silence floating through our home as I failed to find her in any of the rooms. Looking around, I smiled upon the realisation of where she was, picking up a thick blanket and my keys, heading out the door and up the stairs to the rooftop. I took the stairs two at a time until I reached the top, pushing my body against the heavy metal fire door and stepping out into the cooling summer air. She turned her head to greet me, offering me a small smile.

“Hey darlin’,” I smiled, walking closer and taking a seat beside her in the middle of the blankets and cushions she had surrounding her.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice soft as she leaned towards me.

I settled with my back against the wall, throwing the blanket over my legs as she leant her head against my chest, cuddling the side of her body against mine with one arm over my torso.

“How was your day?” I asked, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head as I awaited her answer.

“Not the best, I tried to get my assignments done but I couldn't concentrate to save my life,” she grumbled, wrapping her arm around me tighter.  

“I know what that’s like,” I grinned, a chuckle escaping my lips as she joined in with a small giggle, “and besides, you don't have to be so hard on yourself, so what you didn’t get much done today, sometimes the most productive thing you can do is breathe, and that's okay, we all need a break sometimes,” I ran my middle finger up and down her spine as I comforted her.

“But you never take a break, you seem to just be able to get everything done that you need to and more, it's not fair,” she pouted, nestling her head into my chest as she spoke.

“Yeah, that's just good old ADHD and Dr Pepper,” I laughed as she lifted her head and giggled at me, her nose scrunching up as she did. After a moment she rested her head back on my chest and exhaled deeply.  

She broke the silence, her voice coming out  small, “I just start to feel useless after a while, I guess, when I haven’t gotten anything done and I feel like I’m drowning in my own head,” she paused, and I could hear the hesitation in her voice before she asked, “do you ever feel like that?” her voice coming out quieter than before.

“Yeah…” I paused to arrange my thoughts that seem to come all at once, “I think as humans, we all have those days, we get too deep inside our own heads and after a while it feels like there’s no way out,” I spoke softly, reassuring her as I continued to stroke up and down her back. She sat up slowly, shifting her body to sit next to me, leaning her body against the wall behind us as she gazed out at the fiery sky with the sun setting lower.

She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it, and so there we sat, in a dead silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, or uncomfortable, we were both swimming around in our own thoughts, trying to make sense of the world in our own ways before sharing these ideas with each other. She wasn’t looking at me, but I knew she could feel my gaze on her. She was staring off to the sun, slowly descending over the skyline of buildings in the distance, and I couldn’t help myself but think of how breathtaking she looked; the way the orange glow of what was left of daylight would catch right on the tops of her cheekbones, highlighting her freckles (one of my favourite features of hers), her honey-blonde hair seemingly glowing in the warmth of the setting-suns rays.

“Why don’t you love yourself?” My loud thoughts pierced the silence between us.

She didn’t even turn her head to look at me, as she took a deep breath in, she responded “What is there to love? I’m just shattered pieces of the girl I used to be,”

I know she didn’t expect a response but I gave her one anyway.

“You’re not broken, I don't believe that for a second,” I shook my head, turning my gaze away from her to admire the mesmerising view of the sunset.

“You don’t know that, Dom. You don’t know how messed up I am inside,” she argued, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Who let you believe that what other people think of you defines your worth?” I asked, intending it to be more of a question for her to ponder rather than an accusation, but I don't think it came out that way.

“I think we both know the answer to that.” she bit back sharply, taking a moment to close her eyes and release a breath I didn’t notice she was holding.

“Your mother?” I ask, although she was right, once I’d already asked the question, I realised I knew the answer.

“She taught me that I should always present myself to company confidently and to be perfect; ‘don’t let them find any flaws and they’ll believe you don’t have any’,” she spoke in a tone I’m sure would make her mother red in the face if she heard the imitation of her voice. The thought made me smile.

‘You know what, fuck that!” My statement came out louder and bolder than intended but that didn’t stop the smile beginning to spread across her face, “you’ve got to wake up every morning and make yourself a nice cuppa while you sit in the bay window of our apartment and listen to the birds singing as the sun rises, you’ve got to come home from a long day of classes and relax in the soothing burn from the shower against your skin, you’ve got to buy those bright yellow boots you loved and wear them with that stripey jumper of mine that you love just because it brings a smile to your face, and then you can wash it in that god-awful lemon shit that I hate but you still love, just because you want to,” I paused, laughing loudly as I shook my head, standing up in front of her, “ you’ve got to go to all of the art shows and film festivals and music shows and museums your heart desires, you’ve got to tell that girl on the train that you love her green hair and tattoos, and you’ve got to strike up a conversation with the person on the train that’s reading your favourite book. You have to do all of these things that make you happy and bring back life to yourself, because if you don’t then nobody else is going to do it for you.” I was standing in front of her now, jumping and waving my hands around as I spoke. She opened her mouth to speak but I continued, “I’m not finished. “You,” I pointed at her, “need to stop taking everything so fucking personally because in 10 years from now none of these things you’re stressing over are gonna matter. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. Just fuck it! You’ve got to love yourself.” I stared at her, the biggest smile on her face that I’d seen in a long time, it was until now that I realised how down she’d been lately. She was grinning and shaking her head all at once, looking up to face me as the smile slightly slipped, she tried to catch it, but I saw her falter. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours,” I spoke significantly quieter, contrasting to my passionate rant just moments ago. I took my seat beside her again, reaching over to take her hand in mine.

She looked at me, her eyes meeting mine, and she shuffled in her place, before moving to rest her head in my lap. I gave her a few moments to collect her thoughts, on the rooftop with her head in my lap as I played with her hair, a comfortable silence on repeat in the background as I waited for her to share the ongoings of the inside of her head with me.

“It gets a bit loud in my head sometimes…it’s been happening a lot more since you’ve been gone”. She trailed off as she spoke, referring to me being on tour.

“And what do you do when it gets too loud? How do you self medicate?” I asked her quietly, threading my fingers gently through her golden locks.

“Well I usually come out here, I bring my blanket with me and I lay on my back and look up to the sky, and I count the stars, I stare at the moon, and I think,” she confessed.

“Isn’t thinking what usually causes the loudness in your head” I know her too well.

“Well, yes,”  she hesitated, “but instead of my problems I think about things like what if I lived on the moon, or what if I woke up one day and all of this was just one big dream, or what if I woke up as a penguin?”

“You and your endless ‘what ifs’, really, a penguin?” I laughed slightly, raising a brow and her strange imagination, “and what do you mean, if everything was one big dream?” I questioned her further.

“Okay, maybe not if it was a dream, but what if, I don’t know, say, the butterfly effect was real, and it happened in our world, and things as we knew it weren’t the same or they never happened in the first place,”

“That’s an interesting theory,” I thought aloud, “but I thought you believed in fate?” I challenged, as well as I knew her, the inside of her head was still a massive puzzle to me, with no right answer. I think it was the same to her.

“Just because I believe in something doesn’t mean I can’t ponder other propositions,” she tested.

I get that,” I spoke softly, causing her to giggle, “Do you ever come out here and think about me?”

“Now, how would I manage to fit you into my tight speculation schedule when I have to consider what it would be like to live on the moon, or the first thing that I would do in my new life as a penguin?” She giggled playfully, turning her head to smile up at me.

“You cheeky fuck!” I exclaimed, a grin spreading across my face as she giggled, a real laugh this time. “I’m sure you can make some time for me,” I grinned back.

“We’ll see about that,” she paused, returning her head to press against my lap before she continued, “sometimes, when I think about you, I can’t stop and then you’re on my mind for days at a time. I’ve never felt like this before, I’ve never felt so all-consumed by my own feelings, and I’m scared,” she confessed, as I once again placed my hands in her soft hair.

We sat in our comfortable silence again, our bodies close together surrounded by blankets, keeping us warm as the sun adventured beyond the horizon; I continued playing with her hair.

“Would you do me a favour?” I glanced down at her as she spoke softly, with a frown across her beautiful face.

“Anything,” I replied simply.

“Would you make sure the moon knows my name?” she asked with tears returning to her eyes.