bloom. : a fireafy fic

Chapter Eight

Work went by slowly. There was no one at the library today, so all she did was sit around and think.

The walk home went by slowly as well. She had gotten off early this time due to the slowness, so it means she still got to see daylight on the walk home. Normally, she would have appreciated it, but this time, she couldn't even find the will to look at the sky.

By the time she reached her apartment, she was no longer expecting to see Firey there. In her mind, he was gone forever.

Imagine her surprise when she saw him standing awkwardly in the kitchen.

"Hey Leafy," he started.

"Hi," she responded back, feebly.

"The damn cat puked," he told her.

"Oh." Leafy no longer knew what to say. As someone who took pride in knowing what to say in a plethora of situations, here she was utterly dumbfounded.

It still didn't crush the lingering question she had. Where had he been?

Firey shuffled his feet. He seemed nervous. What was he hiding?

"Where did you go?" Leafy decided to stop beating around the bush. She was going to ask the question outright, or let it eat them both alive.

The ginger froze upon hearing the question and sighed. "Promise me you won't get mad?"

Leafy felt her expression stiffen. "I can't promise that, it depends on what you say." If he's saying something like that, it must have been something egregiously horrible. What did he do? Did he kill someone?

Firey looked around and rubbed his neck. Leafy stared at him, expectantly, listing off all the terrible things he could have possibly done when he was gone for so many hours.

"I left after you fell asleep," he began. "I had been talking with Snowball about how I've been feeling a little bit down or whatever. And you didn't want us to go to that party we were invited to multiple times, so when you passed out I-"

He stopped. Given the context, Leafy knew exactly where he went.

"You went to the party," she finished quietly.

"Yeah," Firey added, uneasily. "I did."

Leafy felt her emotions begin to boil. Why did he feel the need to hide this from her? "I mean, you could have at least told me."

Firey put his hands together, as if he was pleading. "Babe, I was going to. But I guess it didn't come up."

"It didn't come up?" Leafy's temper began to rise, and she did nothing to calm it. "If you asked me, I wouldn't have stopped you from going."

"Don't lie!" Firey's volume, along with hers, also rose. "You would have tried to stop me or whatever."

"Did you want to go?" Leafy shot back. "Because it also seemed like you didn't want to go."

"Yes," Firey retorted. "No. I don't know."

"How could you not know?!" Leafy wondered if she was overreacting, but that thought graced her mind for only a fraction of a second. Now that he accused her of smother him, she didn't know how to deal with herself anymore.

"I just had to get away. Everyone else was telling me I had to go out more." Her boyfriend's face was red and full of undefined emotion.

"So you listened to them?" Leafy didn't want to fight anymore. She just wanted to shut up and hide. She regretted raising her voice.

"Babe," Firey explained, his voice lowering along with hers. "You don't do anything. You stay home and never go out anymore. It's boring."

Leafy's breath caught in her throat.

"I get so lonely now," Firey's voice was hushed now. "You're boring, Leafy. You don't care about anything anymore. And I know I shouldn't, but I detest you for it."

Leafy said nothing. She turned around and walked into the bedroom. Firey made no effort to move, he just watched her.

Inside the darkness of the bedroom, she grabbed his pillow and one of their blankets. She walked out of the bedroom and threw them on the couch.

She turned towards Firey. He was looking at the couch with a sullen expression. He didn't say anything; he understood.

The girl spun around, walked back into the bedroom, and shut the door. Her boyfriend detested her. She really was the worst person in the world. She knew she should have paid more attention to him. She knew it. And now she was punishing him, not herself. She kicked him onto the uncomfortable couch.

She really was a terrible human being.

She slunk over to the bed and buried herself under the covers. She felt too numb to cry.