𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

is it just her, or did this feel impossible ? not only was she battling her own guilt, forced to engage with the other when she can’t stop replaying what happened between her and miller not all that long ago, but she’s beginning to feel like this entire conversation was calculated. like eden wanted to sow doubt, to knock her off her balance, somehow. and even though she’s not outright saying it, devon can tell that she suspects something, or at least, she’s noticed just how close they are again, and she doesn’t like it. this would be so much easier if she just said that, though. well, maybe not easier, but she would at least feel less… on edge. cheeks flush slightly at the mention of fletcher, embarrassed that she forgot to mention him. god, even if she isn’t purposefully trying to be cruel, she’s beginning to think that maybe she is, anyway. can’t ponder that for long, though, as eden’s words strike her square in the jaw. she could make it sound as innocent as she wanted, but she didn’t believe the act for a second. she could claim she wasn’t trying to sabotage, or play a game, but devon’s not stupid— that’s exactly what she’s doing. and she doesn’t want it to work, and it isn’t, for the most part, but there’s a tiny piece of her that she knows will cling to it, certain that she’ll spiral about it later when she’s staring up at the ceiling. what if she’s right— what if that wasn’t their ending ? no, it couldn’t be. “ i… well, no, it’s not really that simple, ” she defends, eyes narrowed. “ i did what i thought was the right thing, at the time. i just… wanted him to be happy. ” a cliché, but it was true. does she wish things were different now ? of course, but there was no going back. and part of her knows, now, that she possesses knowledge that could shatter eden’s view of this in an instant by repeating the words he said to her, not all that long ago— that he would leave her, if devon asked him to. if she was cruel, like she suggested earlier, that’s exactly what she would say. instead, she tries to tamper down the smirk that threatens to tug at her lips, looking at the other intently. “ what makes you say that, hm ? ” — “ just say it, eden. stop bullshitting me and tell me how you really feel, for once. ”

doesn’t know much about what was said between the pair, but since they’ve joined back in with the rest of the group, he can tell that something’s just off. it’s not like they’ve particularly gotten along, or ever really interacted with one another unless forced to, but the fact that neither one can meet his eye tells him all that he needs to know. there’s a hundred and one scenarios that shift through his head, and somehow being on the outskirts of it, and not knowing, has his anxiety skyrocketing. tries to play it as cool as he can, like the ability to remain calm and collected is an ability that comes easy to him, when in reality, he can’t quite keep still, always shifting his weight, in some way, or rubbing at tired eyes, scratching at the underside of his jaw. gets snippets of eden’s mood— that’s she’s obviously not happy about what was said, and that’s only confirmed when she insists that they’ll talk about it later when he makes an attempt to ask about it. it isn’t until everyone’s packing up for the night, downing the last of their drinks and retreating to their rooms, that he makes an effort to try again, but this time with devon. he approaches her in the kitchen, taking the spot beside her to help with the dishes, towel in hand to start drying what she washes. such a mundane task, but one that comes with a flood of memories— a life like this, that they once shared together. a life that he had to say goodbye to all too soon; one that he always thought they’d have together. “ everything’s alright, yeah? ” the question is phrased simple, easy. but he knows the complication that’s tied within it. “ like, you’re okay, i mean? feel like you haven’t been able to look at me, all night long, ” pauses, then, vulnerability on show for a second. “ did she say something to you? ”

luckily for her — for the both of them, really — emma gets to distract herself with the eggs she's scrambling. it helps, she thinks, to have something for her hands to do, for her mind to focus on. otherwise she might do something stupid, like stare at him for a little too long or try and kiss him again. huffs out a laugh and stitches off the burner. "that's true. if you haven't listed doesn't puke as a special skill on your resume, you should. grab some plates, will you?" she doesn't even think about asking him, because in this brief moment, it feels like her mornings used to. back when emma would get up before him for work, making sure to leave something in the pan for when he finally woke up, and how some days he'd actually join her for a brief moment. (and he'd sneak up behind her and wrap his arms around her and kiss her neck and she'd laugh and tell him to go away, even though they both know she didn't want that, not for a second, and and and...) she's grateful they have macy to focus on, in any case. "i mean, if she didn't listen to me about getting that hip tattoo while we were all drunk in cabo, i'm not too confident about changing her mind on this. but i will certainly try." laugh is airy and a little less awkward this time around as she finishes up breakfast. movements are momentarily stopped with his questions; they were inevitable, she supposes, and yet she'd somehow been hoping to avoid them. wishful thinking, because the universe isn't generally all that kind to emma. she finally looks up at him, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as she shrugs rather pathetically. "yeah, well. i tried to have sex with you, so i guess we can call it even."

wishes he could focus his attention on the plants scattered around the kitchen for more than a few seconds at a time (had she even been watering them?), but his gaze keeps gravitating back to her— a reminder of how mundane and easy this used to be for them, spending their mornings together, eating breakfast, before they went their separate ways for the day. her comment hits a little too close to the truth of why all this ended, however, and his chuckle, despite how authentic he wills it to sound, scrapes from the back of his throat in a clipped cadence. “ shit, you’re so right. do you think that’s why i’ve been so unsuccessful in landing a job? ” it’s a snippet of his life post her, one that he’s ashamed to admit was part of him while they were together, too. truth is, noah can’t even land the gig of being a fucking line cook, but she doesn’t need to know that. follows her request, gathering plates and laying them upon the countertop, before doing the same with the cutlery. somehow he ignores the pang in his chest with the distance between them, he even liked having something to do with his hands, rather than thinking about all the times they’d be against her in someway, instead. “ good. if i get one more strike in her bad books i think she’ll make good on her promises. ” not to say that he doesn’t deserve it because, well, he probably does after everything that unfolded between them. there’s no hiding beneath the veil of being drunk anymore, no excuses for the words that tumble out of his mouth, or the way his eyes squint when he meets her gaze. doesn’t quite agree, considering he played an equal part. “ yeah, well… i was ready to let you take advantage of me, so it’s not like i hold it against you or anything. i wanted it, too. ” — “ we don’t, erm, have to talk about it, though… might be easier to just pretend none of it happened at all. ” will save him from his own embarrassment, at least.

the pit in devon’s stomach feels heavier, now, as she watches eden’s pretense fall away once they’re completely alone. no one wants to be alone in a room with their ex’s current partner, but especially not if they’re still hopelessly in love with said ex, like she was. and there’s an incredible amount of guilt, too, finding it difficult to look her directly in the eye as she thinks about how miller’s hands were just pressed against her skin, how she would’ve done anything he asked of her, in that moment. that’s why it was dangerous for them to get so close— all rationality fell away, and they forgot about the people they would hurt. now that she’s face to face with it, hearing the edge to the other’s voice, devon wishes she could just melt into the floor and escape it all. brows furrow slightly at her words, at her mention of cruelty— that’s not how she saw any of this. then again, she still hasn’t quite figured out what’s happening between them, what the future might hold, just that that spark had never actually extinguished. and apparently, other people could see it, too, judging by the other’s observation, that she noticed how they look at one another. fuck, that’s not good. she thought they were being discreet, but apparently not. guilt slaps her right in the face, teeth chewing on the inside of her cheek. so why hold on ? she lets out a quiet sigh at that question, certain that she didn’t want her to say that she held on because she loved him, because he was all she thought about, that she still believed they were soulmates, in the end. tries not to take offense at her repeated insistence that their relationship wouldn’t work, that everyone thought so, too, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t affect her at all. “ that’s not… i mean i’m not, like, just playing some kind of game with him, if that’s what you’re saying, ” at least, that’s not her intent, and she hopes he knows that, too. “ and i’m not trying to sabotage anything, or— ” she pauses, to let out another sigh. she owed her some kind of honesty, as she’s never been able to share her side of all of it. “ look, with miller and i… there’s always going to be something between us. i mean, we were together so long, i never thought we would— ” break up, she thinks, but she should probably save it. “ think we can agree he’s just… really special. it’s hard to not imagine him in my life, somehow, i guess, but i’m really not trying to be cruel. not to you or him. ” 

she expects deflection. is waiting for it with each second that passes, while the initial shock of the confrontation wears off. trust her when she says she doesn’t want to be having this conversation either, but something needs to be said— surely neither of them think this could continue in the way it has been, right under her nose? so, yes, she anticipates there will be some form of divergence, but this just makes her blood boil. hopes her countenance doesn’t give her away, that her face isn’t growing hot, like she feels it is. at least they can’t look at each other, her own gaze travelling beyond the other female, to the view beyond glass doors. “ i didn’t say anything about playing a game. ” but eden’s good at that, isn’t she? planting seeds of doubt without needing to say much at all. she’ll allow the other to think that, however, like maybe it’ll act as enough to have her think differently about how they all move forward, from here. she, for one, refuses to continue turning a blind eye to what was happening right in front of her— clearly unfinished business. has ignored it for as long as she can; let them sneak off into unoccupied rooms, text at all hours throughout the night, call each other when their days were rough. isn’t outright opposed to them being cordial, but as close as they are, as they act… it was weird, wasn’t it? was she the only one who saw through it? “ right, and fletcher, ” she adds quickly, again, a reminder that there was a fourth party tangled up in their mess; one she was certain was catching onto… whatever it is they’re trying to do here, hiding from them. that’s the part she still hasn’t figured out, and she hates them for it. “ i get it, though. you have history, ” and i can’t compete with that. head shakes then, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. she’d heard the same from him, too. “ it’s just… you chose to let him go, right? ” poses the question, intentions not as pure as the way it initially comes out. “ i’m not trying to sabotage either, but i just don’t see an ending in this where he’s going to choose you, again. ”

[ imessage to DO NOT TEXT ]: alright, time to come clean. i kept your old college hoodie and told you i didn’t know where it was. but it doesn’t smell like you anymore so if you want it back it’s all yours. i think i might miss your smell around here more than anything else. how fucking stupid is that?

of course it was one of the absolute worst people devon could think of waiting for them on the other side of that door. the interruption was probably for the best, though, considering she was ready and willing to do something incredibly stupid with him, just by hearing those three words fall from his lips. and of course, she held no ounce of guilt when his hands were pressed to her skin, her thumb running along his bottom lip, desperate to taste him, but now it was overflowing, knowing they were almost caught. the rationality is kicking in, realizing just how reckless all of this was. she hopes her guilt isn’t as palpable to the other, though, attempting to avoid wincing at the timbre of her voice ringing out around them. call her biased, but there’s something about eden that devon found… well, insincere. all their previous conversations (they’ve only shared a few) were riddled with passive aggression and fake niceties— they were merely acquaintances, and that was for the best. honestly, after what she overheard in the bathroom on new year’s eve, she wanted to avoid speaking to eden entirely. and she has no plans to change that, now. in fact, she’s already plotting her escape, stomach roiling as she watches the other press a chaste kiss to his lips, remembering just how close she was to doing something similar a few moments prior. she returns his apologetic glance with one of her own for whatever grief he might receive for this later, ready to slide out behind him and atone for their almost indiscretion in silence for the rest of the night, but to her surprise, eden’s not letting her go that easy. fuck. anxiety pummels her in an instant, heart racing as she looks at the blonde, attempting to plaster a smile over her stunned features. “ i was gonna go help out, too, but uh… yeah, sure, ” she breathes, crossing her arms against her chest in preparation. “ what’s up ? ”

hates that it feels like she’s just walked in on them— that she’s the one who has interrupted something, when they both isolated themselves away from the rest of the group, retreating to a space only the two of them occupied. this isn’t the first time she’s experienced this, isn’t the first time that sense of dread has taken over her frame, when she’s realised that neither party were to be seen, convincing herself, in those weaker moments, that they were doing something they shouldn’t be, despite her lack of substance and proof. it’s a simmering rage coiling inside her, now, a kettle about to reach its boiling point. tampers it down as much as she can— to play it cool and calm, even if that’s the last thing she is right now. truth is, eden craves control, and that’s a concept that’s slipping further from her grasp by the second. still, she wears a smile at her lips, at least until miller’s departure, the pretence faltering once it’s just the two of them that remain. how the hell was she going to do this? “ i know we have no reason to be the best of friends… ” she begins, slight edge to her voice. even without the given circumstances, she doesn’t think they’d ever be the type to gravitate to one another. they were just so… different. “ and i promise i’m not trying to be the crazy girlfriend that controls how you spend your time together, ” except, that’s exactly how she’s been feeling. “ it’s just… cruel, don’t you think? allowing him to have hope for something that isn’t going to happen again? ” doesn’t allow her own insecurities rise to the surface, despite how they swim just below it. “ because i’m not stupid, you know? i see the way you look at him, and how he looks at you— don’t think i’m the only one who notices it, either, ” head shakes, referring to the other involved. “ it didn’t work out the first time, and i think we all know it won’t work again. so why hold on? ”

there should be alarms sounding, somewhere, to alert them to stop, to think past their own desires and needs and realize that there are other people to consider besides themselves. because no, she may not exactly be in love with fletcher, but she doesn’t want to hurt him, or anyone else for that matter. probably too late for that, though, considering she really should’ve thought of that before reaching out to touch him like she just did, because now she couldn’t get enough. she wanted more, and had no intention of stopping unless he said so. thinks they might be on the same precarious page, however, at the sound of his sigh, at the feel of his hands sneaking beneath her sweatshirt, breath stuttering in her chest. heat pools beneath where his palms lay, finding herself no longer teetering over that edge, but ready to jump off it, entirely. she wants to so badly, hearing him speak, thinking about all the other times he’s pulled his own shirt off her, the two of them falling into a heap of teeth and tongues and wandering hands. “ miller, ” she sighs, the syllables shaky in resonance. she’s certain he already knows just how much she would like that, but she has no problem telling him, either. “ you know i’d like that, ” more than anything, she thinks, allowing her hand to sneak up to rest against his jaw, now dangerously close to his lips. “ you always know what i like. ” the words are sweet and soft, a hint of a smile present on her features as her fingers move once again to his lower lip, allowing her thumb to run along its softness, as if she’s thinking about whether or not she should press her own lips against it. “ i want you— i need you, ” she whispers, eyes flickering up to meet his once more, tension hanging heavy between them as she finds herself holding her breath. and she’s just beginning to lean in and close that gap between them when she hears it— that creak of floorboards outside the door, the jostling of the handle that immediately causes her to snap out of whatever trance she’s in. she pulls away from him all at once, muttering a curse under her breath, skin instantly cold without his touch. all her muscles burn with unfulfilled desire as she attempts to appear as unaffected as possible to whoever it was about to enter their oasis, turning to shield her flushed skin from their view.

hates that she hesitates before she reaches for the door handle, as if she’s afraid to see what awaits her on the other side— the two of them together, no doubt. she’s all smiles, despite the lingering sense of dread that manifests in her stomach. it’s always there, however, whenever he drags her along to these sort of getaways. with his friends that barely accept her, his ex-girlfriend that’s clearly still held up on him. until recently, she’s refused to believe that his feelings are reciprocated, that he feels any inkling of anything towards the brunette, but she’s caught the glances between them over the course of the night, any excuse they can take to remain close. they’re so… opposite that she’s never believed he could have lingering feelings for either parties, but observing them tonight (as well as the constant contact… the messages, the calls over the past few months— she’s trying to remain calm, collected), she’s afraid that sinking feeling in the gut is right. wonders if either can name the simmering anger behind her hues, bright smile painted across her features as if to mask it. “ there you two are! ” her voice has never sounded so fucking chirpy in her life: a common occurrence, she’s noticed, when her body detects competition. “ we were just about to send out a search and rescue party, ” she crosses over to miller, only to make her presence known, hands grasping at his forearms, smile dancing at her lips, as she requests his help— fletcher needed a hand with getting the fire started, as well as everyone else getting ready for games night. makes a point of pressing her lips to his in a silent thank you when he agrees, as well as blocking devon’s path before she gets the chance to run off with him. “ — you have a second, don’t you? ”

god, does he have to be shirtless? can the universe not grant her just one simple kindness after a night of hardly any rest? after she laid awake staring at the ceiling, just a few feet away from noah, her mind occupied with replaying their previous interaction over and over? apparently not, she thinks, as her mouth reluctantly becomes dry at the sight of him. in the before times, when this apartment was just as much his as it was hers, she would have relished the view. now, however, she forces herself to avert her gaze. he gets a surprised laugh out of her at that, head shaking slightly. "look, it's not like i'm trying to give you points for doing the bare minimum or anything, but you did manage to not puke on my couch. so, a win's a win." the smirk she shoots him is somewhere between unsympathetic and playful, like she can't quite decide how to play out this moment. it's just... well, she did always love the way he looked in the mornings. disheveled and bleary-eyed and adorable. "considering my plans are with macy, who always love a good noah fuckup story? i think i can afford to be a little late." shoots him a teasing smile before moving to grab some plates. "what about you? won't not emma be expecting a call soon?" a low blow? maybe. but she feels like she might deserve it.

fuck, why does he suddenly feel so exposed in front of the one person who has seen and knows every inch of him? a rush of crimson flushes his skin, most notably at his cheeks and neck. the quick change, pulling the shirt over his head and struggling with getting an arm through in the process, doesn’t do much to shield the way it wears at his flesh beneath her gaze. becomes the reason why he can’t find it within himself to look on he direction, blue eyes averted to anything other than the familiarity of her features as he leans against the counter, arms crossed against his chest— the stovetop, the withering plants upon the windowsill. “ see, i’ve always been trustworthy in that department. you never had anything to worry about there. ” so yeah, she’s right: a win’s a win. and does he take that proudly? perhaps. somehow it’s easier than acknowledging the awkward position he put her in, showing up at her door in the state he was in. god, she’s right— macy’s going to love this one. “ yeah? well, just go easy on me, alright? i don’t know if i can afford fuck up in her books… you do know she told me she was going to key my car if i hurt you, right? ” it’s a chuckle that departs his lips, strained around the edges, not necessarily from the conversation around her best friend, but where it’s heading. cheeks turn half a shade darker, and he squints over at her, regret twisted plainly in his features. “ i… mentioned all that, did i? ” can’t deny some parts of his night out are a little foggy. “ and you still let me in? ”

obviously, devon’s not thinking clearly, or at all, really. she hasn’t since that night she brought him back home with her after he exhibition, or on new years eve, when she kissed him in that alleyway as the clock struck midnight, knowing it was wrong but doing it anyway. seemed to be the theme, as of late. she knows it’s wrong to think about him when there’s someone else lying next to her at night, to dream about him once she finally falls asleep— knows it’s even more wrong to look at him the way she had been, tonight, daydreaming about how he tastes, how his skin feels beneath her palms. honestly, she should be more worried about someone catching them like this, but she’s far too intoxicated by him and all that he is, all that he makes her feel, to think of it. in devon’s mind, they were the only two people in existence, right now— a dangerous line of thought to have, growing closer and closer to crossing that line, once again. teeth sink into her lower lip as he reveals some of his thoughts, cheeks flushing a softer shade of pink. allows him to pull her in closer, then, heart practically racing out of her chest. can’t hardly breathe, either, evident in the ragged chuckle that slips past her lips. “ the guillotine ? god, you even make medieval punishments sound sexy. ” she didn’t want him to face any punishment, though, at least not on her behalf. “ i’ll be good. promise. ” it’s whispered in reassurance, yet she makes no effort to pull away, to place any amount of distance between them. instead, she opens her mouth again, captivated by everything he is, everything he makes her feel when they’re this close. “ what would you do, though ? if you could do something about it. ” it’s only hypothetical, she thinks— it doesn’t count if they don’t act on it. that’s what she tells herself, anyway, as eyes travel across his features, debating on whether or not she should act on her desires, unable to ignore how her fingertips itch with the need to touch him. “ if i could, i think i’d start here… ” she begins, hand reaching up to place her finger right at that spot against his neck she was dreaming about earlier, the one she knew he liked, before trailing it down to the base of his throat. “ then here, ” she mutters, each touch lingering and soft, as her fingers dance up to his lips, where her thumb settles against his bottom lip, touching it gently as she lets out a quiet, shaky sigh. “ and here. ” teeth sink into her own lower lip, then, trying to stifle a smirk. “ i bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you ? ”

his whole demeanour changes, the moment her fingertips trace the spots of him she’s already laid claimed to. has always thought that he belongs to her, somehow, that their souls were so deeply entwined that the only way he was him, was with her. the shiver that runs down his back, the goosebumps that spring in place of her touch, and the warmth that floods to his gaze, melting into the smile curved at his lips prove that. there’s never been anyone else who’s been able to incite such a reaction from him, an all-settling calm that washes over the moment their bodies come into contact. can feel his guard lowering, each place her touch lingers; his neck, his throat, his lips. felt he had to have some semblance of one, coming here this weekend, like he’d be able to shield himself from any further harm, whether it was self-inflicted, or caused by the web they’ve tangled themselves within. but, like always, she’s the first to break through that, and he finds his heart opening again, the one place reserved for her ready and waiting. “ hm… don’t know if you’re living up to your promise of being good, telling me that. ” the sigh that departs his lips his shaky, matching the timbre of his voice. goes to say that yes, obviously he’d like that. it’s clear he’s unsteady, or she just has that effect on him, still, after all this time. and it’s as if that tension pulses between them, its own heartbeat alive with what was transpiring. this all might be hypothetical, sure, but they’re still toying along that line, nearing the danger zone with each second that passes. he’s never been able to resist her, though— how could he, when she’s looking at him like that? “ but, for starters… i don’t think i’d let you be wearing this, for any longer, ” fingers grip at the material, then, tugging it into his grasp before he allows his hands to find her flesh again, pushing it slightly up her torso. “ and because it’s all my fault, i think i’d have to help you get out of it— it would be the right thing to do, hm? ” palms find her waist now, where he lets them lay, savouring the warmth of her beneath his touch. “ would probably have to give you something of mine to wear in the meantime, ” he adds, knowing smile at his lips, reminded of the image of her in his shirts, the effect it has on him. “ but then again, i’d probably find a reason to take that off of you, too— it’s never been fair, how good you look in them, ” pauses. “ what about you? is that something you’d like? ”

swears she could melt beneath his gaze, at the sight of that smile he wore so well tugging at his cheeks. this would never get any easier, would it ? she thought maybe it should have, by now, considering how long it’s been since their breakup, but it was impossible not to want him, regardless of how much time has passed. it was ingrained in her, as if some part of him lived inside her, too. something cellular or molecular or whatever— they were forever linked, forever part of each other’s story. that’s how she understands him well enough to know he has a look, letting out a soft chuckle at such a ridiculous assertion. “ oh, you so have a look, and i think you know how much it fucking kills me, because you do it on purpose, ” she admits, unsure how she’s even physically intact after witnessing it so often, tonight. it was nice to see it returned, though, because this could all be much different— he could avoid her gaze entirely, hell, he could avoid her completely, like most exes tend to do, but he doesn’t. whether that’s technically a good thing in the grand scheme of things is yet to be determined. and it’s probably not good that he’s moving closer, shutting the door behind him, but she’s not making any moves to stop him, to prop the door back open to preserve what little dignity they had left, but she’s not. the terrible thing is, she doesn’t want to. she wants this with him, unconcerned with what the immediate consequences might be if someone found them like this, right now. she would take whatever little piece she could get. eyes are wide at his words, lips reflecting just a hint of a smirk. “ burnt at the stake, really ? is it that bad ? because now i have to know, ” damn her curiosity. she can’t help it, though— they shouldn’t be in here alone, unsupervised. it’s a terrible idea, really, probably one of the worst they’ve ever had, especially once he moves closer. so close, in fact, that he’s sure he could probably hear how her heart thumps violently against her chest, watching as he reaches for the hem of her sweater. swallows harshly as his knuckles brush against her skin, igniting little fires everywhere they touch, unable to hold back a soft sigh at the sensation. “ it is all your fault, ” she adds, teasingly, before she leans in, now dangerously close to the shell of his ear, whispering against him. “ there are so many other ways you could make up for it, though. ”

purposeful look or no (which, yes, he’s definitely aware he’s been doing all night long), miller likes that he still has this effect on her, craves hearing it fall from her lips, to allow it to take root in his chest, ground him in moving forward with whatever this is that they’re doing. it makes him feel less alone in this, somehow. there’s no easy way to sum up the way their relationship has spanned, the lines they continue to blur. but, standing here with her now, sheltered away from questioning glances, he realises that he doesn’t need to know what this is between them, what they continue to return to, as if they’re physically incapable of being away from one another, like she’s the only sustenance he needs to survive. maybe they haven’t discussed what this is, put a label to it, because there’s none to be had— they could just let this… be, no matter the cost. miller’s well aware of what this might look like, if anyone were to come looking for them, to barge in on the closed door and into their oasis, where they stood much closer than two people who used to be together ever should. in all honesty, he’s surprised that nobody’s caught onto the way his gaze always seems to find its way back to her, even if it’s where his attention shouldn’t be. that it’s her touch, or the sound of her laughter, that brings him back to life, an energy so palpable that he would be willing to risk it all just for moments like the one they share now. and he meant what he said all those weeks ago— all it would take is one word from her, one green light, for him to give up all he’s known these past few years. they haven’t spoken about that fateful night either, though, and he isn’t exactly inclined to make a fool of himself, again. so, he’ll play this game with her, teeter along the boundary they should both stray away from. and he really shouldn’t add to this further, but his smirk tampers down to a smile, before he adds. “ it’s not fair that you get to look like that, and i have to sit across from you, unable to do anything about it. ” a snippet to his thoughts is all he’ll give her, as if it makes up for their close proximity, the warmth of her breath at his ear, and his stuttering heart beating against the confines of his chest. “ all my fault, ” he echoes, as if in confirmation, fingers curling against the hem of her sweater now, tugging her in closer, his efforts to get the stain out abandoned. “ and i take full accountability for that, but what do you want me to do, when you say things like that? ” can only hope his chuckle disguises the slight tremor in his timbre. “ all those other ways might have us sent to the guillotine to be punished for my crimes. ”

her body threatens to liquify at the sight of him leaning against the doorframe, looking at her like that. god, it was him… just something about him that had her abandoning all reason, all rationality, merely driven by some instinctual need to be closer, to touch him, to do all the things they once did. to rest her head against his shoulder, to intertwine their hands, to allow her fingers to write out secret messages meant only for him against his back, his thigh, wherever she could touch. those days were gone, though, replaced with longing glances and continuous playbacks of that night they shared together, and that new year kiss that left her keening for more. and now, they were alone, and all of that was still plastered to the forefront of her mind. this couldn’t be wise, she really should do the responsible thing and tell him to go, considering how she’s feeling, and yet… “ what look ? ” she teases, immediately aware of what exactly he’s referring to, considering it’s how she’s looking at him right now. but maybe she wants to test him, to see if it really does affect him as much as he says. “ i have no idea what you’re talking about. i’m completely innocent. ” yet she can’t even say it with a straight face, allowing a chuckle to escape as she surrenders. “ you have a look too, you know— so, you first. ” childish, yes, but she’s just as desperate to make this even an ounce easier to navigate. “ honestly, you’re lucky that’s all it is— if you could read my mind we’d be in so much fucking trouble. ” especially tonight, with all the thoughts that invaded her mind, even at the dinner table with everyone else. and she should be ashamed, letting her mind wander to such places when there’s conversation occurring around them, when all their closest friends were around, their partners, too, but she couldn’t help it. she never could, when he was so close, just across the table, watching his finger trace the rim of his glass, her gaze mapping out all the places her lips would explore, if she could. his cheek, his jaw, that spot on his neck that she knew could make him shudder. that’s what she was thinking about, when the wine tumbled from her glass and onto her sweater, snapping her out of such daydreams. thoughts and daydreams were all they could have, anyway— she couldn’t act on any of it, not here, not now, no matter how badly she yearned for it. so, yes, it was for the best that he couldn’t know exactly what she was thinking. and she has to stop looking at him, now, every piece of her burning to reach out for him, to pull her into her embrace, but she ignores it as best she can, instead tilting her head down to look at the dark stain splashed across her chest. “ i think it’s probably pointless, but… ” she pauses, holding out the hand towel she was scrubbing it with as an offering. or, maybe it’s a challenge, to see if he’ll come closer. “ you can give it a try, if you want. ”

he should follow the warning signs, the ones screaming at him, reading danger lays ahead. whenever he’s around her, however, it’s as if he has a newfound talent for ignoring it altogether, like the logical sense of his brain has completely evaporated. and that’s what it’s like, looking at her now, definitely with the same look she’s referring to, the same one he’s named for her, but ready to rebut it, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “ hm, not sure what you’re talking about, either— i don’t have a look. ” except, just like her, he definitely did, often using it to his advantage to express all that he couldn’t say aloud; that he wishes he could be beside her, holding her hand, the one to thread his fingers through her hair, the one to rest his palm against her knee. that whenever she met his gaze back, with that exact same look too, his insides felt like molten lava, melting until only mush remained. it’s not a feeling that’s new to him, but hiding it is; having to pretend that any glance in his direction doesn’t fuck him up, entirely. has never been successful in hiding anything from her, however— it’s like she can read him like an open book, one of the ones they read together each night, gentle fingers turning the worn, loved pages. they know each other in the same way, as if they’ve studied the pages front to back, back to front, and then all over again and again. doesn’t doubt she catches the minuscule shift in his features, then, and exactly what it means; the slight raise in his brows, or the knowing smile that curves his lips, as if to say his mind hand wandered down the same path, too. “ yeah? ” he questions, light tilt to the cadence. “ don’t think you’d want to hear any of mine either, then… think we’d risk being exiled, or like, burnt at the stake, if i could tell you what i’m thinking right now. ” and sure, all he’s really doing is adding fuel to the fire, especially the one burning away in his gut, but he’s never been able to help himself, when it comes to her. his step closer, away from the door that now shuts behind him, doesn’t exactly help their situation, either— there’s no way he can be trusted in a room alone with her. yet, it’s recognition in his hues; acceptance of the challenge set for him, reaching for the towel she holds out for him. he’s close enough now that he’s sure she could hear the unevenness to his breathing, long fingers wrapping around the hem of her sweater, pulling the material away from her frame, so he can work at it, as futile as it proves to be. “ i mean… it’s the least i can do since it was all my fault, hm? ” knuckles brush along the skin that lays beneath, and his head draws closer to her as he focuses, breathy chuckle departing his lips.

time skip. it’s already difficult enough for devon to tamper down her desire and longing for miller from miles and miles away, but it’s near impossible, now, under the same roof. and it’s temporary, sure, only for the weekend, but it’s starting to feel more like torture than a vacation, considering she couldn’t exactly touch him the way she wanted with others around. and there’s no clear definition of what they are, or what they’re doing, but that doesn’t seem to matter too much in the grand scheme of things, not when she continues to catch his eye, to think about the last time they were close, all lips and teeth and tongue and want. of course, the daydream is nice until she realizes they’re not here alone— their partners and their friends were here, too. the four of them, in one place, with nowhere to hide. and it wasn’t jealousy following her around anymore, now that she knows the truth of his relationship with eden (one that’s just as strained as her own), but guilt. guilt because she knew they were just beginning their descent down a dangerous cliff, that they were doing something that could harm other people now, too, yet she couldn’t find the strength to dig her heels in and climb her way back up, to the safer realm of exes that remained friends despite lingering feelings. then again, maybe it only sounded safer just because that wasn’t a realm many others willingly occupied. either way, that guilt didn’t seem to stop her from looking at him in that familiar way she always did, gaze burning, finding any excuse to talk to him or touch him, no matter how miniscule. she quickly grows flustered with all of it, so much so that she manages to spill nearly half a glass of red wine all over her sweater at dinner, cheeks flushed almost as crimson as the stain it leaves behind. honestly, she’s thankful for it, in a way— it provides an easy escape for her after dinner, finding the laundry room to try and scrub out the stain. really, she just needs some medium to get out all her frustrations, since she couldn’t exactly act on any of them here with so many prying eyes and ears. and she’s just about to peel the probably already ruined sweater off, to lay it flat so she could work at it easier, when she realizes she’s not alone any longer. fuck, just just the person she wanted to see, but didn’t need to see, considering. smirking, she looks up him, fingers pulling away from the hem, instead smoothing it out. “ come to see your handiwork, huh ? because this is totally your fault, you know, ” tilts her head downwards, then, to wipe at it a little more, to no avail. “ you fucking suck at the whole ‘ not being hot ’ thing. ”

has always found difficultly in keeping his eyes off of her, as if the only way he feels steady, upright, is when she’s grounding him. when they were together, he found that solace in touch, in finding any excuse to have his hands on her, in some way— on her knee at the dinner table shared with friends, against her lower back as they manoeuvred away from the crowd in search of a quieter corner, around the back of her chair at the bar. it’s a stark contrast to how he is, now, sitting across from her, eden’s arm haphazardly draped across his lap, but his own against the table, focusing on the glass in his hand, fingers tracing the rim. some things don’t change, however, and he certainly isn’t known for straying too far from what is known, because he still can’t find it within him to look away from her, finding any excuse to tend his attention in her direction, catching her eye. he wonders if they’re on the same page, if she can feel that pull between them in the same way he can, linking them together, holding them to one another. holds no doubt that they are, only because they always have been, even as that lingering guilt hovers above him, grasps at his throat, where the bulk of it settles. there’s no jealously there anymore, though. no reason to act out at the sight of her with someone else, not with the insight she’s provided him about the true nature of her relationship. with that, however, comes a dangerous breeding ground for desire, retracing their steps of the night they’d spent together, the kiss they’d shared to bring in the new year— all things he shouldn’t want, but does, because it’s her. always her. and he’s trying to make it as least obvious as possible, of course, but how can he when she’s this close and not miles away like she usually is? sure that it’s written plainly across his features, for all to see. how he gets away with it, he doesn’t know; at least that’s the case until she excuses herself, and after a safe amount of time has passed, he’s finding a reason to remove himself from the group too, in search of her. with the string that binds them together guiding him, he finds her with ease, and this time, with little to hide, the smirk that tugs at his mouth is on full display, leaning majority of his weight against the frame of the door. holds his hands up at her accusation, in surrender or to plead innocence, who can say, a light chuckle departing his lips. “ hey, you can’t fault a man for just sitting at a table— really, i think i should be rewarded for being on my best behaviour, ” so far, they’ve avoided the collisions they engaged in the last time they were in each other’s vicinity, and in his eyes, a win’s a win, even with the collateral of her sweater. okay, so maybe he’s not entirely innocent in this at all. “ you know, everything would be a lot easier if you stopped looking at me in the way you do, anyways… think i lose all abilities to even think, when you do, ” smile dampens then, nodding once towards the stain. “ need a hand? ”

waking up to someone you didn't sleep with on your couch can be awkward enough. but when that person happens to be your ex that you almost did sleep with? well, emma finds herself a little off-kilter, movements slow and quiet as she sets a glass of water and a couple of painkillers next to noah's sleeping frame. she keeps looking over at him as she makes the greasiest breakfast she can, because that always did seem to cure his hangovers, and old habits die hard. she's got the bacon going when he finally stirs awake, and though she still isn't mentally prepared for the awkwardness that's about to ensue, she shoots him a timid smile anyway. "morning. i'm making breakfast, if you have time to stick around." if he even wants to stick around.

dusty doesn’t even begin to cover it, after a night full of mistakes and regret. showing up at his ex-girlfriend’s place only scratched the surface of the awkwardness brewing beneath the surface, in his stomach— or maybe that was the nausea. either way, he’s grateful for the water and painkillers that are in his direct line of vision, the waft of bacon, as he manages to get himself into a semi-upright position, good enough to down the glass of water and pills in one gulp. it’s embarrassment, though, that tints his cheeks red, as he searches for the shirt he’d discarded. “ shit, i’m never beating the pain in your ass allegations, am i? ” seriously— what the fuck had he been thinking, showing up here in the middle of the night? flashes of their conversation, his hands upon her, come to the forefront of his mind, and he pushes them back, returning her smile with a soft one of his own. “ breakfast sounds good, thanks, ” better late than never to line his stomach. “ it won’t interfere with your plans? ”

while tonight hasn’t shed too much light on what exactly they were or where they were going, it did prove that they could still partake in moments like this one; fleeting, wondrous moments that reaffirm just how strong of a connection they share. the lack of clarity might not fare well in the long run, but for right now, she’s just thankful they’re no longer at each other’s throats, saying things they didn’t mean, allowing jealousy to hijack all their thoughts and emotions, lashing out in turn. but she could do this, she thinks, she could be whatever he needed her to be, whenever he needed her— just for more of this, more of him and them together, even if it wasn’t exactly how it used to be. whatever piece he was willing to give her, she would accept, wholeheartedly. and maybe it wasn’t healthy, nor did she think it would please the others in their life, but she couldn’t deny this, couldn’t deny how badly she still needed him in her life. and it’s nice to hear that it’s reciprocated, that he, too, hasn’t gone a day without wishing they were together, wanting her by his side just like she wanted him, too. she didn’t know what lay ahead for them, but fuck, she knew she would do anything to see him smile again and again like he is right now. it forces a smile upon her own lips, letting out a soft chuckle. “ no, i don’t want you to keep your mouth shut, because that would suck for me, just… try and be less hot, yeah ? seriously, that should be your resolution. i know that’s gonna be like, borderline impossible for you, but just try, please, for my self control’s sake, ” she teases in return, breath stuttering slightly as he pulls her hand into his own, fingers now interlaced as they slowly but surely continue to close the distance between them, just like always they never could stay apart for long, even in the aftermath of such a strained evening. electricity shoots up through her fingers at his touch, traveling up her arm, then all the way down to the base of her spine where it pools, leaving her warm and buzzing with something that feels like anticipation. and she knows they shouldn’t do this, that they’re falling back into familiar patterns, that she should be concerned with whether or not her boyfriend really was freaking out inside, but she can’t help it— not when he moves closer, when she looks up at him and sees everything she’s ever wanted, every dream she’s ever had, looking back at her. “ mm, yeah, no, you do not need to hear my unfiltered thoughts right now. ” she says, quietly. and she can feel his gaze on her lips, only because her gaze traces his, too, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she witnesses his fingertips splay across the bone of her hip, stifling a shiver. 3, 2, 1… and her free hand finds the curve of his jaw just as the shouts of happy new year ring out from inside. and there’s no fighting it, how she leans in to capture his lips with her own, fireworks exploding beneath her skin, reminded of the last time they were intertwined like this, just a few weeks ago. still, she’s attempting to transmit all the hope and love and longing she still feels for him into the kiss, to subconsciously tell him that this wasn’t over for her, that it wouldn’t ever be over, no matter how many new years come and go.

it’s anticipation that courses through his veins now, crackling in the space between them, aiding his actions forward, as his grip tightens on her hip, drawing her closer, the echoes of people’s chants drowning in his ears. he doesn’t know how to not want her like this, how to let a day go pass without wanting to kiss her, needing to, like his body is reliant on it, to keep functioning. this wasn’t the best place, no, not when their respective partners were inside the brick walls they now hid outside of, probably looking for them both, like they’d drawn attention to. and this is following an argument, where they’d torn into each other, each lashing for blood, to leave a permanent scar; a wound that he would revisit, when he’s alone, returned to a place that’s never really felt like home, not without her there. but, none of that seems to matter when she looks up at him in that familiar way, and he’s looking down at her, too; as if all they needed was to share this between them, now, like it could speak all they needed it to, without having to say anything else at all. there’s always been an understanding with that, deep rooted in their bodies, holding them together, twining around the string that never seems to fray. he knows what it says, now, this shared look— they’re on the same page, this wasn’t the last page of their book, it never would be. it’s why he gravitates forward, just as she does, when it finally reaches midnight, cupping his hand around the back of her neck, just as his lips find hers; a gentle, all-knowing, kiss that speaks to all the love and longing still embedded between them. it had been present in the night they’d shared, intertwined within one another, bodies pressed together in a way that’s always just fit. that’s how it feels now, as his fingers gently find their way into her hair, as he inches closer again, like he can’t bear to be any further away from her. and he’s doesn’t know how long they stay like this, in fact, it’s like he looses track of time completely, only shaken out of it when he hears the side door they’d both escaped from reopen, pulling away from her reluctantly, as if he’s been snapped out of a trance. he uses the hand that was at her hip to wipe at his mouth, now, trying to hide the smile that’s curled there, eyes a little brighter, now that they’re not hollowed out like they had been before. he doesn’t know what this means, for them, if it even means anything at all, but he feels content with it, for now— there wasn’t a better way to ring in the start of a new year, despite how much he usually dreads it. this felt different, though. everything did with her. he hopes it means a kinder year, finally, one that’s good to them. that hope is present in the way he looks at her, now. “ see, now i think you have to tell me those unfiltered thoughts of yours… ” he teases. after a kiss like that, he’s sure that her mind is running as wild as his is. his voice drops to a low whisper now, words only intended for her. “ happy new year, dev. ”

despite their harsh words and jilted whispers to each other tonight, at least one good thing came from it— their newfound honesty with each other. it wasn’t easier, per say, to know these things about each other and their respective relationships, to hear how unhappy they both were with a new partner, but she can’t deny how relieved she feels to know it’s not one-sided, that neither of them could really let go of the other, no matter how hard they try, or who they find themselves with. it seemed impossible, really, considering just how ingrained he is in her soul, in every fiber of her being. it had always been like that, since the moment they met; almost as if it was meant to be this way, that he was the only one who was ever capable of filling that empty space inside of her. it’s just another reason why she hates that he ever questioned it, that he entertained the thought that her and fletcher’s relationship was better than what they had, based on some lie she spewed just to rile him up in a moment of weakness. even then, she wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t forgive her for it, if she somehow ruined this, that day, and in all the moments since, without even realizing it. but once she sees him step closer to her, too, and hears the timbre of his laughter, real and warm, not torn from the darker parts of his chest, that worry begins to slip away, replaced by something that some might consider even more dangerous— hope. hope that things would change for the better from this moment onward, that they would maintain their honesty with each other and no longer fall into the trap of miscommunication and jealousy. they could be mature about this, couldn’t they ? only time would tell. “ of course i want you around, miller. i always want you around, ” she smiles softly, looking up at him in earnest, knowing that he would never purposefully hurt her— it’s something she thought about a few weeks ago, too, looking up at him, seeing the love and tenderness in his eyes as their bodies intertwined, knowing that she was always safe with him. “ but yeah, actually, you have made things super hard on me— it’s cruel and unusual punishment to see you across the room, looking like you do, and know that i can’t touch you like i want, ” it’s spoken teasingly, attempting to drain even more of their previous poison from this conversation, attempt to start anew, entirely.  “ i haven’t been very fair on you, either— i actually think i’ve probably been the fucking worst, with all the stupid shit i say. i don’t think i have a filter, with you, and i definitely should, ” she chuckles, soon pausing then, to reach out for his hand, running her thumb against his. just a simple touch to ground her in the moment. “ but we’ll start over, and if you still want me here, then i’ll be here. however you want me. ” if they couldn’t be more, she would take whatever she could get. it’s only seconds later when she hears the noise of the bar rise past the brick— the countdown to midnight was happening now. “ shit, we should probably go back inside, hm ? eden’s probably looking for you. ” and it’s not spoken with any previous jealousy or malice, but concern, afraid that this might cause more strain, despite not making any sudden movements away from him. 

where did they go from here? he didn’t have an answer for that. now that he thinks about it, he never has. all they’ve been doing is taking it day-by-day, doing whatever they could within their power to just figure it out. neither were perfect at it, in fact, miller’s been entirely flawed in this process, clinging to whatever remnants were still between them, no matter how crumbled and shattered they had become. it’s better than not trying, he thinks— to have allowed the physical distance, the pain of seeing her with someone else, get the better of him. would rather fight everyday, tooth and nail, to remain in her life, if that’s where she wanted him. he would do anything she asked. and of course he wishes this had all been different for them; that he’d found a job locally, instead, that he’d fought harder when she insisted that he just go, aim to reach dreams that came to fruition, that only ever felt possible, because of her. it wasn’t the cards they’d been dealt, though, and that’s a painful truth he’ll always have to live with, the ache if it radiating in his chest, cracking his ribcage. at least, now, they were both willing to make this work, as best they could, no matter how confusing, how difficult, it’s all become. that’s why there’s relief twining into the smile that tugs at his mouth— at least they had this, here, time spent together, grounding them in a moment that will soon be lost. “ i always want you around, too— there’s never been a day when that hasn’t been in the case. ” there never would be, either. and even if his desires run much deeper than that, even if he isn’t entirely sure he can only be her friend, he chooses not to speak on it, knowing how much damage he’s already done, tonight. “ and i’ll try to not make things too hard on you, hm? even if i can’t help it… not sure what you want me to do when it comes to just standing, but i’ll do it. i’ll even learn to keep my mouth shut— maybe they can be my new year’s resolutions. ” he teases, corners of his mouth only lifting until it’s a full-pledged grin, across his countenance. it’s safe here, again, this space between them, which only emboldens him all the more, turning his hand until he can lace their fingers together, feeling the jolts of electricity that course between them. “ i happen to like your unfiltered thoughts, though, ” even if they’re hard to hear. “ actually, maybe that should be one of your resolutions; think i want to hear more of them. ” because this streak of honesty, as difficult as it has been to hear, at least meant he knew where they stood. and he hears it at the same time she does, the echoes of voices inside, counting down to the start of a new year. it cuts him off from saying that he always wants her, always has, and he doesn’t know if that’ll ever go away. he doesn’t make any effort to move from this spot, though, gaze soft, knowing, as he traces the contours of her face, all the parts of her that he has memorised. “ yeah, we probably should… fletcher will be looking for you too, right? probably freaking out that he’s lost sight of you. ” his words aren’t bitter either, the strain of their night dissipating with each moment that passes. his gaze ends up at her lips eventually, drawing around their outline, a small step closer without thinking twice about it, free hand reaching for her hip, fingers splayed along it’s most prominent part, 3, 2, 1…

it was cruel, what she said to him that fateful day over coffee. there was something wrong with her, she thinks, to ever say those words out loud to him, to lie about something she knew would hurt just to get a reaction. she wasn’t thinking of the consequences then, and that’s why she knows she deserves to face his frustration and his ire, now, to hear just how deeply her actions affected him. “ no, that was so fucked up, i know, i just… i was so jealous and scared that you found something better than what we had, so i lashed out, and it was fucking awful of me. i should’ve just told you the truth, instead, ” that no one else compares, in the slightest. there’s contrition written all over her countenance, shame and regret permeating every single syllable that leaves her lips. “ and i know that doesn’t fix it, and it’s okay if you hate me for it because i think i hate myself for it, too, i just… i’m so fucking sorry for ever putting that in your head. ” now having the same experience herself, she would do anything to wipe it from his memory entirely, just like she wished someone would do for her, right now. she understands now that this is why exes generally weren’t advised to talk after a break up— there was so much miscommunication and jealousy and hurt swirling around them, threatening to swallow them whole. and she’s afraid it might, until she witnesses his sigh, listening to his confession, feeling guilt well up inside of her as she allows for more honesty to spill past her lips, shaking her head slightly. “ hey, no, that night was… it was exactly what i wanted. you always... i mean, it always was, with us. " she pauses, wanting to offer additional reassurance. " it was perfect, miller, honestly— it meant everything to me. ” her voice shakes, slightly, on those last few words, but she means it all the same. she means it so much, actually, and she wants him to know that, to understand just how it’s affected her, how much she hates that he second guessed himself because of her previous actions. and she can’t help but hold her breath at his next admission, feeling herself soften entirely at his explanation, all her anxiety and fear melting away, disappearing into the cold night air. so that’s what all this was about— fuck, did she feel ridiculous now for worrying, for assuming the absolute worst. the relief that accompanies it is palpable, apparent in the nervous chuckle that spills past her lips. “ god, she’s really missing out. it’s not a bad sight, looking up at you. ” her gaze holds on him a little too long after saying that, but she breaks eye contact with him soon after, turning her head to hide her embarrassment at letting those words slip out as fingers rub across her face, her lips, as if to force them back inside. “ sorry, i shouldn’t have said that, but… that’s not fucked up, though. or well, it probably would be to anyone else, but i… i mean, i don’t even let him see me fully naked, because i just… don’t feel good about myself with him, and i always turn off the lights because i can’t bear to look up and see someone that isn’t you, either. ” it’s followed with a sigh, yet she feels emboldened enough to take a few steps closer to him; still respectful of his space, but close enough to satisfy that constant urge inside her to be near him. “ can we just… start over, you think ? because i really hate fighting with you. ” a pause. “ but i get it, if i’ve fucked things up too much. i only want you to be happy, you know ? ”

at the end of this, it’s hard not to feel gutted; hollowed out and empty, as if he’s been turned from the inside out, raw and waiting for all to see. can’t deny that the verity they’ve been relaying has been draining, but it’s been a long time coming, he thinks— no longer speaking in codes around each other, each communicating in a language the other didn’t speak. they’ve always been on the same page, able to understand that most intricate parts of each other, pieces of him that’s gathered cobwebs, locked away in the deepest corners of his mind. from so early on, he’d found such a comfort in her, as easy as breathing. even easier, he thinks, like she was essential to his very being, the reason that his body functioned on a day-to-day basis. it hadn’t taken much, for that to string them together, souls entangled from the moment their eyes met at that party, all those years ago, hands intertwined while they seeking solace elsewhere. he hadn’t known it then, in that moment, but that sanctuary has always come from her— her, as a person. no matter how much distance is between them, or where they are, how much time has passed. it’s always been her, for him, no matter the circumstances. that hasn’t changed now, even with all they’ve gone through, deliberate actions or not. his gaze softens, as he looks at her now, wanting nothing more than to take back all that’s occurred tonight, to be whoever she needs him to be, to be what she wants. he’s had doubts that he hasn’t been for some time now, that clearly she’s found something better in fletcher— that whatever they'd once shared was long gone, only remnants, crumbles of a structure, that once stood so tall left in its place. now, he can see that maybe neither one of them have been fully honest about the natures of their relationship; that much he knew, if tonight's conversations were anything to go by, if their night a few weeks prior had anything to say, too. has never been great at remaining angry at her, anyway, as if his body is physically incapable of doing do for very long. so, as she takes a step closer, he does too, as if to tell her that, to remind her that this is how he's always preferred them, with her right within his reach. and his hand aches to reach out to her further, as if a single touch could make up for all of his wrongdoings, but he holds back, that hand clenched at his side. " it's okay, " he assures her, that gentle glint back in his eye, colour returning to his face. " this is all... pretty fucked up, i guess. guess it always has been. " and the chuckle that rumbles from his throat, this time around, is genuine. clipped around the edges, sure, as he paints the obvious, but that bitterness is no longer attached to his words. " i'd like that, though. starting over, i mean. if you still want me around, that is— know i haven't been very fair on you, that i've only been making things harder than they need to be, " a gulp, then, as if it encapsulates the regret, the guilt, that's been festering inside him, dating back to the moment he'd left. " it's just... you're always going to be someone that i want, and i don't know how to get rid of that, " doesn't know if he wants to. " and if that complicates things too much, i get it, you know? my goal in this has never been to hurt you.

she knows he didn’t ask for this, that this was just as violating for him as it was horrifying for her to hear, but the jealous, hurt part of her seems to overshadow everything else. she’s so petrified by the idea of him finding someone better, finding a connection stronger than what they have that she can hardly think straight at all. honestly, she hasn’t been able to think entirely straight since they broke up, but especially not after what they shared a few weeks ago, in what was once their bed. if she was thinking rationally, at all, she would know that there was nothing to question, that the physical aspect of their relationship was always inimitable. unfortunately, that part of her brain was set to off, as she’s still reeling from their previous argument. fingertips pinch at the bridge of her nose out of frustration, then, as a speck of something sane finally floats into her brain. “ you don’t have to be sorry— it’s not your fault, ” it’s followed with a heavy sigh, shaking her head as her initial shock and panic begins to wear off. it wasn’t like he put eden up to it, or even knew she was sharing such information; devon knew him well enough to know that he would never do such a thing. besides, he looked and sounded contrite enough, and she wouldn’t continue to punish him for something he held no part in. she’s far too tired and wrapped up in her own fears and insecurities to even care about how all this transpired— unfortunately, it was too late, now. she knew details she never asked for, never wanted to know, and she had to find a way to live with it, to be okay with it. yet, she can’t help how her chest seizes with emotion at his words, head falling forward in shame remembering all she revealed to him in anger that day they shared coffee; actions that were arguably more cruel, but at least now she knew exactly how he felt at that moment— like her already battered heart had been ripped out of her chest and stomped on while she was hiding in that stall, unable to escape each and every lurid detail. a bitter laugh leaves her throat, then, unable to hold it back. “ oh, i don’t know the half of it ? you don’t know the fucking half of it. ” her voice raises, because of it, tattered and torn and honest— maybe a little too honest, but she hadn’t cried on his chest, overwhelmed by the care in his touch, for no reason. “ i never should have told you any of that, because it isn’t… i don’t like any of it. actually, it all makes me feel fucking terrible about myself, but i just pretend to like it, anyway ! ” she’s exasperated, too, her next words flying out of her in a fit of emotion. “ i fake it every time just to get it over with, and then i go cry in the bathroom once he’s asleep. you know why ? because the only fucking thing that does the trick is you, miller. it’s just… you, as a person. you’re the only one. ” palms press into her eyes, then, trying to press her brewing tears back into her eyes. “ i thought i was just broken, maybe, that there was something wrong with me, but i realized it the night you slept over, and i’ve barely been able to let him touch me since. ” — " so no, i'm not fucking judging you, okay ? "

there was no end in sight, this ride they seemingly both hopped on, going round and round in circles until it tore them both apart. he can feel it, the pain radiating in his chest, emphasising the circles under his eyes, the anvil upon his shoulders— he was tired, firstly from pretending that life has been okay without her, that he’s making it through each day, and now because of another argument between them brewing, hitting them both square in the face. the air out here feels charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm; heavy, anticipatory, and ripe with the electricity of a thousand unspoken words, misunderstandings that continue to come back and bite them. he wants to believe that is all this is, another form of miscommunication between them, but this feels different, their respective vexation stemming from similar reasons, but for different purposes. they both deemed this situation, the predicament they’ve been forced into, from the day he’d told her about the job opportunity, as unfair— this was the domino effect from that day, all the pieces falling one by one around them. and he should try to be more understanding of it, of her, but that frustration clouds his vision, a calloused hand rubbing down the side of his face, scratching the underside of his jaw. “ i know the half of what you allowed me to believe, devon. ” sitting across from him at the table like she had, venom laced in those words that day, a bullet aimed directly at his chest, all to induce a reaction from him. it might be delayed now, sure, but if this is what she wanted from him, then she’s finally got it, served on a silver platter. it’s clear, now, that he’s carried that one piece around with him, ever since it was revealed, eating away at him until there’s been nothing left, some nights. now, it’s confusion that tugs at him, etching into the crease between his brows as they draw together. “ then, why? why tell me any of it? did you just want to fuck with me? ” — “ if that’s the case, congratulations. you did! ” voice is raised from its usual pitch, but as the conversation turns, his heart shattering at her next admission, with how raw and vulnerable it is. “ fuck, dev, ” he sighs, albeit gentler this time. “ when we… i mean, last time we were together, i got so in my head about it, you know? i almost asked if that’s what you wanted me to do, to be rougher— i thought it might’ve been what you wanted. but it didn’t feel right to me, because that’s not us, i didn’t think it was you; not the you i know and love, anyway, ” there was something special between them, unable to be described by a mere string of words, something otherworldly, and he can see now, how closely their experiences mirror. “ you’re not broken, i promise… i bet eden wasn’t in there bragging about how she thinks i am, though, hm? about how she thinks there’s literally something fucking wrong with me because my sex drive is so low? ” and it isn’t laughable, but the clipped chuckle rings through him regardless, as he’s finally candour with her, too. “ what you heard in there… it’s the only thing i can stand to do without feeling fucking sick at the thought of looking down and seeing someone that isn’t you— and that’s so fucked up, i know it is, but i haven’t been able to look at anyone like that, since you. ”

if she wasn’t completely beside herself before, she definitely was now. as if her heart wasn’t broken enough from their argument, it now felt completely and utterly pulverized, just mere liquid in her chest. she knows she sounds insane, probably looks insane, too, not even daring to glance at herself in the mirror before running out of there, desperate to be anywhere else than inside that bathroom, stuck in some situation born only from nightmares. god, what was her luck ? why couldn’t she have come in after such a conversation— why did the universe decide to pick this moment, right now, to fuck with her, to make all of this feel so much worse ? it was enough to catch sight of them tonight, to witness the lipstick mark on his neck; she didn’t need to hear about anything else, especially not in such great detail. she’s jealous, of course, but also sad and confused, and wracked with insecurity. her brain immediately began comparing, trying to reconcile how different it sounded from what she’s experienced with him. was different a good thing ? was what they shared all those weeks ago what he actually likes, or was he just placating her, saving his true, real desires for eden ? that sounds so incredibly fucked up when she thinks about it that way, but this situation wasn’t perfect. it never had been. the lines were always so blurred between them, unable to keep their mouths and hands away from each other for long, but this… she doesn’t really know where they go from all of this. she doesn’t know how to fix it, nor is she in any emotional place to do so, right now. she can only cry, even as annoyed as she feels when it sounds like he doesn’t believe her. why would she make this up ? she didn’t want to fight; in fact, she hated this tension between them more than anything else in the world. “ what do you mean, what the fuck am i talking about ? ” she scoffs, trying to conceal the hurt buried within her gaze. “ do you really think i’d lie about this ? ” she didn’t want or need the attention it garnered. “ fuck, wish i was. i wish i didn’t hear any of what i just heard, ” it’s followed with a bitter chuckle, heart aching in her chest at just how badly she wanted that to be true. all she wanted, right now, was to be at home, alone, crying on the floor of her bedroom, with no knowledge of any intimate details of his and eden’s relationship in her consciousness. now, it would be all she thought about— a specific kind of torture reserved just for her. and she doesn’t want to repeat any of what she’s just heard, but she has to, it seems, for him to believe her, to know that she wasn’t just making this up to torture him, too. and honestly, maybe she wanted answers, too. she collects herself long enough to get the words out, trying to appear unaffected (and failing miserably). “ she was telling everyone how you like to fuck her from behind. in bed, in the shower… should i continue ? ” and even if he said yes, she wouldn’t— she couldn’t. she’s already embarrassed and hurt enough to repeat that tiny piece of information, plus, she’s not sure she could actively fight the urge to throw up every ounce of what’s in her stomach if she continued, nausea permeating down to her bones. she would throw those up, too, if she could, anything to make this stop hurting. “ there’s definitely more, because i was stuck there, hiding in the stall, and i had to hear all of it. ” she turns her face away from him, then, as she clenches her jaw, holding back the emotion bubbling to the surface. the words that come out next sound so broken, so fragile, torn from the most vulnerable part of her. “ it’s just… we— i mean, last time, it wasn’t— ” like that. but she can’t get the words out, soon shaking her head. “ whatever, just— answer the question. is that how you like it now ? ”

there's that sinking feeling again, the one that emanates through his chest, right down to the pit of his stomach. she didn't need to say any more than she already has, the embarrassment of the situation hitting him square in the face, made evident by the shift in his gaze, the crimson colour that creeps up his neck, flushes at his cheeks. for some reason, the words i'm sorry are loaded at the tip of his tongue, like he had asked for the intimate details of his sex life to be revealed, purposefully circled back to her. in some ways, he is sorry, though. for a lot of things, really— tonight as a whole, for one, but all he can focus on now is the hurt in her reflected in her hues, in the fragility that seeps through each syllable. his weight shifts from one leg to the other uncomfortably, eyes squinting like there's a spotlight shining down on him, everyone waiting with bated breaths to see how he can explain this one. he can't though, not without the churn of nausea that washes over him, heart plummeting to his gut, as if it can no longer bear to continue beating away in his chest. it breaks into loose shards, slashing around in his ribcage until it feels as if he's bleeding from the inside out. " devon, no, i— " but everything stops there, brain short-circuiting, because what could he say, here? didn't she know him well enough to know that what she'd heard wasn't his preference, that what they shared, what they'd always shared, was the nature of his true desires? and he hates himself for hurting her further by insinuating that he didn't believe her, at first, hates himself even more knowing that eden's off somewhere, sharing this all to god knows who. " look, i'm sorry, okay? i'm sorry you had to overhear all that, it's not— it's obviously not something i want paraded around, but you're... " he sighs then, jaw clenching again, as his gaze find hers, a replica of hurt glinting in his eyes. " you're not seriously asking me that, are you? " this was the second time she'd rephrased the question; is that how you like it now? he feels sick all over again, knowing that she has a piece of information about him that he would've never wanted her to have. can only imagine what's going through her head, the comparisons being made. he'd done the same, when she'd divulged similar details about her and fletcher, his own personal form of torture; remembering how it had made his head spin, knowing that's not how they had been, tangled up together, and clearly things had changed, since then. " no, it wasn't— " like that, he wants to say, to agree with the tail end of her sentence. in fact, he wants to reassure her that it's different, with her; it's always been different because it's her, and they share something, encompass such a powerful feeling within him, that nobody else could ever replicate. but, his exasperation gets the better of him, at her question, clouding his judgement. " you do know that all you've heard is what she wants people to know, right? it's one part of it, and you're, what? standing here judging me for it, when you don't know the fucking half of it? " there's a shake to his voice, out of his control. " it's rich, actually, coming from you... i mean, it's rough shit that does the trick now, isn't it? choking, slapping, that sort of thing— remember? "