it could be you 🌧 | blur + dalex

11🌧

"Jesus Christ, Dames, this really is some situation."

Graham glanced nervously at the ground while he listened to Damon vent. He was surprised when Damon had shown up to his house that afternoon, saying he really needed to talk, but who was he to turn away from a friend in their time of need? Especially one of his oldest friends. And especially in a situation like this.

"I...can't believe any of that happened."

"It was like some fucking whirlwind." Damon described flatly. "One minute he's helping me rehearse, the next we're shagging, then I'm givin' him back his flat keys and watchin' his girlfriend break up with him. I don't know what the hell happened." He held his hand to his forehead, sighing deeply. "I don't know how we fucking got here."

"What happened after that?"

"We were both shocked. He just said thanks for bringin' back his stuff and I left." He muttered. "I felt like shit going out of there. He never told me he had a girlfriend." He looked up at his friend. "You never told me either, honestly."

"I didn't know you felt that way about him!"

Damon smirked a little, bit it didn't last long. "I guess it doesn't matter now."

"What makes you say that?"

"It's obvious, Gra. I don't mean anything to him." He shrugged. "I guess what happened that night was just...A way to pass time."

Graham looked pensive. "I don't know. Alex isn't like that. At least not on purpose..."

"I don't know why I'm surprised, y'know? Or why I care."

"You should talk to him, Damon. You can't just pretend what happened never happened." Graham advised. "Things aren't going to be the way they were ever again. You can't stop while the rest of the world's still going."

He pondered a moment over what Graham had said.

"I guess so."

"It's the only way you're going to resolve the situation. It'll at least give you closure."

He nodded. "Right. Okay. Maybe I'll go by later. I'm not ready just yet."

Graham gave him an understanding smile. "And remember; none of this is your fault."

And maybe it wasn't.

But it hurt all the same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The aura of silence hanging in the air of the flat was painfully awkward.

Justine was in the living room, one-by-one putting a small stack of her clothes back into her suitcase, along with a couple other assorted necessities. Alex was there with her. He didn't want to be, but he figured he had to be.

"There's no bus back to Bournemouth until tomorrow." She explained, her tone empty. "I just need to stay here until tomorrow."

"Fine," he said.

She stopped packing for a moment, staring blankly at the table. "You could've told me."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really!"

"And just how would I go about telling you something like that?"

"You're supposed to figure that out yourself!" Her voice was increasingly exasperated. "Because that's what couples do, they tell each other stuff like that!" Sensing no point in continuing such a pointless argument, she went back to packing. The stack of clothes was almost entirely diminished.