#i here

“Come over.” 

It’s a text popping up on your phone as you shift on your couch, eyes glazed after taking a couple of hits of a joint you had saved up. You breathe a little, adjust yourself again on the couch as the light coming off your television screen illuminates the way your fingers hover over your keyboard.

“No,” you text back after a minute, throwing your phone to the side and grabbing your blanket from the foot of the couch. Pulling it up to your chin, you let the Netflix show wash over you, eyes softly falling closed as the dialogue drones on. 

Five minutes later, you’re jolted awake, phone ringing somewhere around you. Scuffling around your blanket, you reach under your legs, pulling out the culprit of the noise. The name flashes across the screen and you immediately groan, deciding to let it ring out to voicemail. 

Lying back down, you bring your eyes to the show, realizing you have no idea what’s going on anymore. Your phone buzzes against your side again and you grab it, fully aware who’s been blowing up your notifications. 

“Y/N, c'mon.”

“Just come over”

“Pick up”

“I know you’re up. Stop ignoring me,” the last one reads and you groan before deciding to text back. 

“What do you want Colson,” you type out, sending it before you can talk yourself out of it. 

“You.”

The text comes in and you smirk just a little before remembering you’re supposed to be annoyed at him. The credits of the episode start rolling, and at that moment you realize you know how exactly tonight’s going to end. 

-

Getting off the couch, you move to your bedroom, pulling on a pair of old sweatpants and a stolen hoodie before grabbing your keys. Strolling down the stairs of your apartment complex, you walk into the California air, taking in the chill of the night around you. 

This little game of back and forth had been happening for too long, and you were so determined to put a stop to it last time. But then, he’d kissed you just right and the next thing you knew, you were back in his bed, waking up with the sounds of the birds flying outside his window. 

For almost a year, you two had been playing along. Ending up in each other’s bed after parties, concerts you went to, even a family get-together you had hosted one night. That’s all it would be though, just beds, quick sessions in the bathroom of that one club, mornings filled with quiet moans and warm sheets. You’d fallen into an accidental friends-with-benefits situation, but you and Colson weren’t friends and these benefits were wearing thin. 

As you got into your car, you took a moment to pause and remind yourself exactly why you were driving to the middle of the Hills at night. This was the last time you’d let yourself be back in this position, he wouldn’t be able to call you after this. You were tired of it, tired of leaving early mornings without your head on straight, tired of having your thoughts constantly filled with what Colson was gonna do next. Just tired. 

-

You drove the trek up to his house in the Hills, letting the soft beats of your music library calm you down. There hadn’t been any new texts from him, no phone calls lighting up your screen, and it dawned on you, he probably wasn’t even expecting you anymore. Biting down the sour taste that rose in your throat from the idea of him calling on anyone else, you pulled into the always packed driveway.

Not even bothering to knock, you walked into the house, sighing at the mess you could already spot from the entranceway. No one seemed to be around in the main living room, and even though voices flowed over from the kitchen, you decided to take your chances and go straight upstairs. 

Walking into his bedroom, you smiled just a little, seeing Colson’s head propped up as he sat with his back leaning on his bed, guitar in hand. Hearing the soft strums, you moved closer, until you were standing right next to him. 

He looked up, eyes meeting yours and you bit your bottom lip, seeing the redness etched into his pupils. 

“Wasn’t expecting you to come,” he mumbled out softly, looking back down, eyes trained on the view from his window. 

“Yeah, well I’m here,” you responded, crossing your arms. You really weren’t in the mood to play any more games, words itching to crawl out of your throat on their own. 

“Wanna sit?” he gestured right across from him with the neck of his guitar.

“Not really,” you uttered back, already feeling antsy. 

He looked up at that, glaring at you for a second and you suddenly snapped, “Look, why’d you call me over man?”

“I thought it was pretty self-explanatory,” he scoffed out, hand stilled on his guitar, and you could hear the anger laced in his words. 

“We called it off last time. I told you I wasn’t doing this anymore,” you spat out, hand reaching up to run across your forehead. 

“Did we? Cause the only thing I remember is you begging me for more,” he smirked, guitar fully placed on the ground, as he pushed himself up. 

You bit your tongue, the slight amount of leverage you had gone now that he was standing in front of you, taller than you could ever be. Faltering, you took a step back from him. 

“Colson, I’m done. With you, with this shit, done,” you exclaimed, seeing the fire in his eyes suddenly roar. 

“I say when we’re done,” he shot back, voice going low as he reached towards you. 

“Not this time,” you shook your head, turning away from his to cross the room. 

You took a couple of steps away when you heard, “We’re good at this.”

You scoffed, knowing exactly what this was. This wasn’t the second or even third time you both had fought to walk away from each other. Somehow, you would end up in the same orbit, never too far away from each other. 

“Fuck you Colson,” you whispered out, letting the words fall from your mouth before actually leaving his room. 

-

You felt your eyes start to burn, pressure pounding behind your forehead as you walked down the stairs. 

“Oh shit, Y/N, you’re here?” you heard a voice question, and you looked up to see Baze standing there, spatula in hand.

“Um, yeah no,” you started, faltering off as he continued, “I would’ve made more chicken if I knew.”

“No, it’s cool. I’m leaving. Enjoy your chicken dude,” you waved off, desperately hoping that he wouldn’t see the way your eyes were lighting up. 

He mumbled out something else, but then you could hear Colson coming down the staircase, and you turned away, eager to leave before anything else could be said. 

-

Getting into your car, you took out your keys, struggling to fit them into the start position. You could feel your hands shaking and the pounding in your head felt even worse as your vision started to get blurry, tears smudging your glasses.

“Fuck,” you whispered, dropping your keys before resting your head on the steering wheel. Your heartbeat was thumping out of your chest, and you shakily reached for your keys, hand rubbing against the carpet of your interior car. 

There was a knock against your window and you stifled a sob, looking up through the wet lens of your glasses. Colson was wearing a hoodie, but you could still recognize his silhouette and you wiped off your face. Another knock, this one lighter with his knuckles tapping against the glass. You opened your door. 

“Oh, um,” he muttered out.

“Yeah, sorry I dropped my keys,” you mumbled, feeling the wetness of your tears as soon as you opened your mouth. 

“Come back in?” he asked, and you could hear the underlying desperation in his voice.

“No. I can’t. Colson, you know I can’t,” you rambled out, hands running up to your hair in frustration. 

“Y/N, please, just come in,” and his voice cracked.

“Give me your hand,” you whispered out, not willing to process exactly how his voice had sounded.

He licked his lips before dropping one of his hands towards you. Reaching up a little, you grabbed onto it, feeling the warmth of his fingers against yours. Breathing out, you used your other hand to grab the keys from the floor, finally spotting them. 

He tugged a little at your joined hands, as if knowing the debate going on in your mind. You caved, again. 

Getting up, you closed the car door and he pulled you in, both arms tightening around you in a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your hair, lips softly kissing the crown of your head. You let a breath against his shoulder, further burying your face into his neck. 

“I fucked up and I keep fucking up,” he murmured and you lifted your head off of him, pushing back a little so you could see his face.

“Hey,” you started, eyes locking with his blue ones, “we both keep fucking up. This isn’t on one of us, okay?”

Your hands reached up to his shoulders, tapping your fingers against him, you knew exactly what to do now.

“I’m going to go home now. I’ll call you tomorrow and when we’re both feeling better, we can talk yeah?” you mumbled out, squeezing down just a little on his shoulder. 

“Stay with me,” he responded, forehead moving down to brush against yours. 

“Colson,” you whispered, knowing that if you broke into his resolve, you wouldn’t be able to stay away. 

There was a beat of silence, quiet filling up the air around you. You could feel his hands on your hips, your own fingers laying against his shoulders. His eyes were closed, messy hair softly brushing against your exposed forehead. You could almost hear the thoughts rushing through his mind, knowing what he said next would make or break this. 

“Yeah, okay,” he let out after a few moments. 

Taking in a second to soak all this in, you took a step back, putting space in between you both yet again. 

“Take time to breathe,” you mumbled, playing with your car keys as he stood there, hands by his side. 

Opening your door, you slid back into the car, feeling just a little bit better at the whole situation. Plugging in your keys, you turned the engine on, wet laughing a little as your music immediately started playing. 

You rolled down your window, shouting out, “Go back in!” as Colson smiled at you from his spot in the driveway.