wc:5.8k+

CH 2

"Did you know that more people are likely to die due to smoking or drug overdose more than alcohol?"

"Oh? Well that's too bad." You say, while reaching for another cigarette.

"What I mean is, it's not healthy to smoke." Martin says, pursing his lips.

"Yeah, I got that." Like you didn't know what he was hinting at.

"But I'm serious though, you could fall sick or worse, actually die." He say, his expression getting more agitated.

"Do you want me to die?"

"No I don't! I'm just saying cause, you know.." He trails off.

"Have some fucking balls, you know what?" You knew exactly what he was hinting at.

"I care about you." He states, as if you didn't figure that out already.

"I know."

You're both in his room, a guitar in his hands and a ciggerate pack in yours. He turns his head to the other side, his fingers glide through his hair in frustration. He knew you were better than that, but you chose the smoke to dumb down your brain yet again and it killed him to see you neglect yourself so much. He strums his guitar again, playing a gentle melody which soothes his aching heart, aching for you, whilst filling the uncomfortable silence.

I couldn't care less is what you want to say but you let those words die at the tip of your tongue, cause you know he isn't wrong. But rather you knowing better, you light your cigarette and let out a puff.

If only he knew how much of pain you bore upon yourself. How easy you were, caring about everything people had to say about you.

And if only you knew, how much it killed him to see you like this, beating yourself up for your mistakes, which were just truly insignificant.

Well, you knew you couldn't control your senses at times. Made you turn out weak. Atleast that's what you parents said. They called you immature, arrogant, rude, indisciplined and what not. Unfortunately, that's how it always is in their eyes. They'd never know that it was because of them that you turned out to be such a bitter, cruel person.

Martin stared at you, wishing you could say anything to him, heck, even a snarky remark, but you gave him nothing except your silence. He knew you were getting into your head too much. Especially when you would quiet down, and stare at him like he hung the stars in the sky with that dreamy gaze of yours, his soul would yearn for you to be with him.

But what could he say? He's self conscious as well. Always overthinking, always worried, more you than himself. He cannot believe its yet another day he's witnessing you fall apart slowly, world crumbling right before you. He also hated that you're absolutely stubborn, refusing and unwilling to heed the advice he gives you.

"If we held our hands together, would our prayers reach the sky?"

"Well, it depends on the weight of what you're asking for."

"I wished you could get more peace at home and you're parents would stop fighting." Martin said, with hopefully eyes as he stared at the sky, wishing there was anyone who would hear the prayer of an innocent seven year old.

"That's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, but don't you want that guitar, Mars?"

"A guitar can come by anytime, but you can't keep living like this! You atleast deserve to sleep well at night." He says, his heart doing back flips at the nickname, with those same hopeful eyes that could melt any cruel man's soul.

"But what if you had to wish for one thing only?" You ask.

"Then I'll wish that your parents stop fighting. I can wish for the guitar later, it's not that big of a deal." He says, with no hesitation.

You tear up at his words. Oh, how your corrupt and screwed up life didn't deserve him. You wished you could take back everything you've said about your parents to him. He was just too kind and caring for the world.

"You don't have to do that, you know?"

" I want to! I hate seeing you like this. I miss your smile, your joy and your warmth." He says, taking a precautionary pause before continuing, "I hate seeing you come to me with tears in your eyes. I want you to be happy Y/N! If I have to pull out a sleepless night just so that my prayer could reach the sky, I would do if for you." He says, with utmost sincerity, his voice a pitch higher.

You can't control the tears in your eyes as you reach forward and hug him, close to you. You melt in his warmth, crying into his shoulder as he runs his hand on your back, rubbing gently.

"Thank you Martin, you really are kind." You don't deserve him. You don't deserve someone else sacrificing their wishes for you.

"We'll always have each other right? When I feel lonely and broken, will you be there for me?" He asks, more hopeful.

"Of course I will, I'm stuck with you no matter what." You say, wiping the tears off your face.

He smiles and pulls you in for another hug, as a gesture of gratitude, unaware of how fast both your hearts are beating at the proximity.

"Since when did you learn to use big words and become a hero?" You ask, teasing him.

"I just care about you."

You'll forever be grateful for those words. He still says it even till today, more so in a tired and frustrated tone.

It was just a couple of marks on your test. In your eyes, you knew the pressure you went through so it didn't seem that bad, but that's not what your parents want. They wanted you to stay at the top, they wanted you to be the best at everything you did, everything. You understand their intentions, but it hurt you that they couldn't convey that right. It always started with back and forth arguments and ended with tears in your eyes.

"Do you still care about me?" You ask him, once again.

He softens this time, "I always did. Even now, I still care about you."

You laugh a little before asking, "Gosh I could kiss you." You bite your lip before asking, "Can I?"

At this he freezes. He can never get enough of you, even when you're fucking miserable. "Don't you have Mario for that?" He asks, wondering who you'll choose this time, him or your fucked up situationship who guilt tripped you into smoking.

"But I want to kiss you." You say, your cheeks reddening at your own words.

He simply nods, and that's all it takes for you to climb into his lap and kiss him slow.

It's raw, real and something unnamed at the moment. His fingers caress you waist, as you pick up the pace. You clutch your fingers on his shirt before moving towards his neck, thumb brushing his birthmark. He gasps at the sensation, sending shivers down his spine.

You break the kiss, trying to catch you breath, biting your lip to stop yourself from getting too ahead. He's not Mario, but God, when he looks up at you like this, with you in his lap, having that starry eyed gaze, you can't help yourself lean in and kiss him senseless this time.

He pulls you down so that you're both lying on the bed. Your head on his chest, and his arm around you. You mumble am inchorent thank you, before drifting in his arms.

He stares at the ceiling, his heart full of the love he's carried for you ever since you were kids. It also carries the pain of it all being one sided. He knew, you weren't together but he always wishes you were. He also knows that what you have with Mario isn't real either, it's just a toxic relationship which was bound by addictions and shared loneliness. Which means, Martin has just one more chance to ask you to be his, once and for all. Easier said than done, because he could ask you right now in this moment to be his girl.

But he knows better than that. He believes since you're really special to him, he has to plan out something special for the two of you before he can confess. But he knows how much you like Mario too. He hated that he's another choice for you everytime that guy pissed you off but sometimes he stays content and grateful that you still want him in the first place. Seems like he's settling for something really low but it's all he's got as long as you still want him. He'd live with the thought of that instead. You may not always choose him first, but you still do, so to him, that's enough for now.

A man who yearns with all his heart can only hope right?

wc :5k+

CH 1

The room is all dim and dark, nothing but the faint glow of the lamp. You kiss up Martin's neck, telling him he smells good. He runs his fingers through your hair, feeling your soft locks, he wants to cry at how you're so mean and toxic like this, the heat and tension having him all hot and bothered. He doesn't hate you, God, he could never imagine doing so . He just hated how you've changed so much, how much you let the pain get to you, when he was right here all along, when you were just perfect the way you are. He wishes he could tell you that. But instead he lets you kiss him over his face, getting lost in the feeling of you, hoping this ends, but deep down, he wants to make this moment last forever. It's not new to him, he knows exactly what this is about, what you're doing and why you're here which makes him wish you could snap back to your senses, but he just loves you to death.

It gets so intoxicating, he's letting it get to his head too much he starts to feel his heart break, all he did was dream of you by his side, but if only this could've been real and not you using him as an escape to your high.

You're sitting on his lap, his hand lazily but instinctively wrapping loosely around your waist. He doesn't know for how long he could let this go on until he finally breaks the ice and finally tells you how he feels, as much as there was love there was also contempt and anger brewing within him. God, if only he had the balls to tell you how he felt, he could've gotten it over with, whether you felt the same or not. But everyone, including himself knew he would never say it out loud just yet. He would be scared to ruin the friendship he worked so hard to maintain despite this feelings stating otherwise.

You place a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, nuzzling your nose with his before kissing his neck all over again. He enters a haze, starts dreaming of how the days were when you'd come home to him everytime something goes wrong at home.

"It doesn't matter what they do to you, I know you're strong and I know it won't define you."

Something Martin said when you were just eight and you saw your mum and dad get physical. You'll still remember the words they used on each other, not knowing what it really meant but in your young pure heart, you knew this wasn't right. You'll still remember what it felt like stepping in and stopping your dad before he did something worse, only for him to grab and toss you aside like you meant nothing, that you weren't his daughter. You still remember crying so hard you're head went numb and your lungs were giving up on you, cause that's how much you sobbed, wishing someone, anyone, could hear you crying out for help, but it was of no avail.

You also vividly remember running away cause your poor gentle heart couldn't take it, all the way to his house where he saw the red scratches on your wrist and over you upper lip, and lunged towards her, bright and tall for a seven year old, softening up for you, little tears pooling in his own eyes when he saw your tear stained cheeks. He held your hand, led you to the front of his house gently and then engulfed you in a soul crushing hug.

You told him everything, fighting the tears until you let them flow freely, not comprehending the depth of telling a seven year old what it meant when parents fight, while still hugging you.

"It doesn't matter what they do to you, I know you're strong and I know it doesn't define you." You didn't know what to say, and you knew you both didn't know what he meant by that, cause how could you? You're still eight and you couldn't wrap your mind around such complicated sentences. But you stayed in his arms, his refusing to pull away, sobbing into his arms and he just sat there, patting your red hair, letting his fingers run through it cause he was always fascinated by the colour of it, unlike you who just hated that you were different.

His small touches, tugged something in you, and you felt so comforted and relaxed, you wished you could be with him, in that moment forever. Maybe it's then you realised how you couldn't live without him either. Maybe it's then you realised how much you would care for him and protect him no matter what.

Maybe it's then you realised, you really loved him.

Not in a romantic way, or so you thought. But every fibre of you knew you wanted to love and protect him, to which you still did, or so you kept thinking you were. It's what he felt too, but he was smart enough to know it wasn't right to claim it out loud in fears of not fully knowing what this feeling means.

He wanted to protect you from your parents, he wanted to shield you from the world, he wanted to give you a better world and a life where you could finally, just finally smile like you were meant to. He wanted to love you, tears, scars and all. But he never knew how to show it, cause when the days went by, and it they still kept fighting, you grew bitter and bitter to the point you loathed Martin's affectionate, caring nature, thinking it was just for the sake of sympathy. You bursted out at him on several occasions, but you apologised like the toxic, broken, pathetic loser you were. And he still stayed, still gave you that same smile, same warmth, just different words. Somedays there were no words, it was just him and that moment that remained. You still felt the same love you had for him.

But you knew, something as twisted, dark and fucked up as you, didn't deserve to tarnish the innocence and light he carried and emmited.

So when high school passed, university started getting more difficult to adjust and cope with. The people there were so self righteous and quick to judge so you didn't approach anyone. Smoking and situationships came in without your knowledge, and everytime your situationship failed you or upset you, you ran into Martin's arms like some toxic bitch, and he always left his door, and his arms open for you.

What you both knew, is that someday, all of this will have to be named and spoken about to clear the tension between you two, but maybe the both of you still cared so much, you didn't know how to do it the right way.

He hated that you were high so often, hated you even more whenever you came over high and not sober, when you could just come by anytime, as yourself. He hated the new you who was so bothered by what this other guy had to say about you, that you made yourself about him. He hated that because of this new guy, you coloured your hair darker so you'd look normal and fit in.

He especially hated that he went through all of this with you, but you never acknowledged what he felt for you, even when it was so obvious. All those songs he wrote, was about you and you only. There wasn't any other woman in his life besides you. You were his muse, a reason to love and to be loved. He wanted to yell at you everytime this happened but he could never get himself to that point. He wanted to tell you how much he fucking hated you for this. But he could never hate you. He loves you so much, it hurts and to him, that's okay. He'll keep loving you no matter how hard he has to push through this. It's crazy, the effect you have over him, but he wishes he could remind you everyday you're perfect just the way you are, and you didn't need to prove anyone anything. What's crazier is that he's told you this everytime, but for some reason another boy's opinion of you matters more.

They're just at the tip of his tongue, but he'd rather bury them and let you kiss him stupid.

Like he always does.

wc :7.5k+

CH 5

To love someone is to put them first in everything, which is an act of sacrifice. But to neglect yourself along the way?

It only makes it worser.

"Y/N, please, you know me. We can work this out. Just, come back to me baby, I promise we can fix this."

He thinks the two of you are the issue here, and in a man's language, he means you're the issue.

"There's nothing you can do to fix us, you can't force me to love you when I don't have anything left to feel for you!"

"But I can't live without you!" He says, with agony all over his face.

"I'm sorry Mario, I can't keep doing this. This is goodbye."

Before he could say anything, you reached for his door and ran the fuck out. You stood there for a while, trying to process the difference between the guilt and the liberation you're feeling

It had been a few weeks since you've ended things with Mario. You're more relaxed, you have the burden of guilt finally lifted off your chest. And the best part, you have Martin by your side, as your boyfriend.

You've been going on more dates, having fun, making out it secret spots, actually going to parties without wanting to run away everytime cause he's always by your side, always checking on you. He's the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

You're offical with him.

So why the fuck does it feel like it's not enough?

Martin encouraged you to start attending rehab, join book clubs, or just enjoy music by his side just like him, switch to matcha, anything to take your mind off the reeling pressure you've been feeling for so long. And if it doesn't make you feel better, he's slightly pushy about these matters, which in your head, has always made

It's not enough.

"If you think you're happy with yourself, why do you feel unsatisfied?"

You pause before answering, "I don't know. It's this weird, uncomfortable void inside me that's constantly nudging me that I'm not enough."

Your therapist nods before she asks again, "Are you in a relationship with someone"

"Yes. Well, not exactly. I've broken up with my ex, who got me on smoking, but that entire time, I was cheating on him with my best friend, who, in reality, was the only one who had seen so many versions of myself. He loved me through it all, and is always looking out for me."

"Was he the one who suggested rehab?"

"Yes." You respond, curtly.

"Alright, I get that. Now according to my reports, you've progressively healed. And that's why we do what we do. But our conversations come into account as well. And from what I'm hearing, you're not happy with yourself. So forgive me if I jump and ask you some questions that can throw you off. Is that okay?"

You nod before she starts, "When you broke up, your best friend Martin, did he encourage you lovingly or push you into dating?"

"No, he figured I should heal."

"So he was the one who suggested rehab?"

"It started off as loving, then it turned out more pushy."

"And why is that?"

"Because whenever I'd come home from our appointment, I'd still find myself looking for a ciggerate to calm my nerves. And he found out, I was smoking behind his back."

"Then what about now? Do you still feel tempted to do so?"

"No, not anymore."

"So like I've mentioned earlier, you're making progress, according to my reports. But you're not fully done. Maybe you're unable to accept something, maybe that's why you resort to smoking."

"Doc, what does that mean? I'm perfectly fine. I'm finally dating my best friend, who has loved me for so long and he makes me really happy."

"If he makes you happy, why don't you feel that way? Or have we finally realised that being in an established relationship doesn't necessarily fill that void inside of you?"

"Nice try doc, but the whole Olivia Rodrigo album would completely disagree."

"All I'm saying is that, maybe you haven't healed yourself fully. You're so stuck in condemning yourself for not feeling enough that you think being in a relationship with a man who loves you will automatically heal you. But that's not the case here, you haven't fully healed because you haven't had the time or space to finally focus on your own self healing, which you should have done yourself instead of depending on someone to do the healing for you."

"Why haven't I healed fully?" You ask, somberly

"Maybe you care about other people's opinions of what they say about you when you're with Martin. Or maybe, assuming from our past conversations, you're still trying to figure out how to navigate your parents judgment, when they found out you were addicted."

"But I couldn't give a fuck about what they could think of me. It's not like they were any supportive of me even when I wasn't on drugs."

"But maybe deep down you care. You care about what they have to say about you. And that's the healing you need. Maybe a conversation with them, or atleast a sentence of closure would help."

"I'll work my way up for that. But what about Martin, am I doing something wrong."

"You're hurting him, by not fully following on your commitments. And from how much you've dealt with, I can understand that it's not easy. But the only way, you can feel satisfied with yourself is if you take the time off to heal individually rather than waiting for him to pick the peices for you."

"But we can't live without each other." You say, with tears in your eyes.

"But you can't stay together, if you're forcing yourself to be happy. When your heart isn't in the right place all the more."

You thank your therapist before rushing out of the room, your lungs screaming for a breath of fresh air. You reach the exit, before finally letting that breath you've been holding for so long. Your mind is spiralling and everything you've worked so hard to build, is crumbling beneath your feet.

You don't know how to do this, but it's for the best.

"Hey babe, how was your appointment?" Martin asks, with the sweet smile on his face.

You're sick in the head.

"It went great, yeah! We discovered a lot of things today." You gulp nervously

"You don't seem okay, do you want to talk about it?" He asks.

"Baby, my therapist made me realise something. And it wasn't the best conversation."

"It's okay, I'm all ears." He smiles at you again.

You're going to break his heart if you do this.

You take a deep breath before saying, " My therapist said that I'm making progress and soon enough I'll healed."

"That's great news! But why aren't you happy about it?" He asks, worry etching his face.

"We had this back and forth conversation. Somewhere in between, it made me realise something that broke me. I can't live without you. I don't imagine living the rest of my days if you aren't by my side." He looks at you as if you hung the stars and ordained the places it should own.

You're tearing up halfway before saying, "But baby, I feel broken. I don't know why, but I just feel like I'm not enough for you. I can't avoid my addictions because I'm scared to admit the truth."

He's cradling your face in his arms, "Baby, what are you saying? Because you're more than enough for me baby, you're all I want. Please never say that. I love you more than words can express, I'd die for you."

You're sobbing now. "But I hate myself. I hate how this is how I'm feeling, because all you've done is love me even when I was a mess. But I haven't fully accepted myself. I feel like I don't deserve you sometimes. And it's not just a fleeting feeling, it's been weighing on me ever since."

"I'm so sorry, my girl. I didn't know you've felt this way for so long. Is there anything I can do to help you? Just name it, honey I'd do anything for you."

"Martin" You're crying hard, "We need to break up."

His expression drops as tears are pooling in his eyes. "No, no baby, why would you say that? We don't have to do that. We can work this out, I promise."

"I can't keep weighing you down. I've brought you nothing but agony ever since we hit college. All you've done is worry about me and I can see that it affects you. You're such a bright and wonderful soul, and I'm fucking ugly and dark-"

"My love, you're the best thing that's happened to me, please I would kill myself if you said that one more time." He says.

"I don't feel enough baby. Even when you say it, it doesn't mend the void inside of me. I just feel insufficient because I've still held my parents' judgement against me for so long, thinking I deserved it, I've been so unorganised with college, failing classes and that's why I felt like this. I've been failing to keep our promises and it's ruining us. I need to fix myself but not at the cost of ruining you. So trust me its the best thing we can do."

"But what am I gonna do? I can't live without you." His tears are streaming down his face.

You don't answer him but instead you lean into his chest. You're in each others' arms as you both cry out hard as he keeps whispering apologies, wishing he could've helped you out more.

Martin looks up at you, with tear-stained cheeks, as you're wiping his tears away. He looks at you as if you're the water when he's stuck in a desert.

"Baby, promise me. Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll continue to be happy for me. That's all I ask. You can take time off for yourself, whatever you want. Just don't go back to smoking, please baby."

Martin sniffles cutely before saying, "I love you just the way you are, you don't have to fix yourself for me."

"But I can't do this, if I hate myself the whole time." You say.

"I'd wait for you as long as it takes, even if we go out separate ways and I never seen you again. I promise you, I'm always here okay?" You nod before placing a small kiss to his lips, leaving his room and heading to yours.

You close your door, and slip to the floor, crying. Your head is in your hands, gripping your strands tightly, cursing yourself for not being better for him. For being so ungrateful that you weren't able to give him back the love he put out for you.

The weight of not being enough crushes you until you feel like the dust underneath someone's feet.

Maybe you are the problem.

But you do deserve to do something selflessly, unashamed. This is the only thing you can do for yourself for the betterment of everyone.

You take few deep breaths as you reach for you phone and dial her number.

"Hey Mum, it's me. Can we meet up for dinner?"