Splintered Illusion

» twenty one «

I stumbled on my feet for the millionth time. Owen caught me around the waist just before I could fall to the ground with a splat. Even though I was mostly sobered up by now, I was still light on my feet, and it irked me to no end.

The rain had stopped by now. And the same boy who'd found me drunk at a gas station had offered to take me home.

A laugh escaped Owen's mouth and I turned to glare at him, my lips forming a pout. "Hey!" I exclaimed, my hold on his neck loosening a tiny amount. "Stop laughing!"

"S-sorry," Owen choked out between bursts of laughter. "It's just so funny seeing you struggle to walk."

I slapped his chest. "Just keep going," I grumbled, attempting to stay mad at him. However, Owen's poker face was just too amusing not to let a small giggle break free of my mouth.

"Yeah. Just keep going," a cold voice said from behind us.

My breath hitched as I froze, my muscles tensing as a feeling of déjà vu overcame me. And it was no surprise - except for the feeling of seeing him again - when Owen helped me turn to face Puck.

From my peripheral, I caught sight of the frown that formed on Owen's face as he took in Puck standing there in front of us, clad in his usual attire. "You again?" Owen asked, annoyance tinging his voice.

"Unfortunately," Puck said dryly, his voice monotone and lacking the warmth that it usually had when near me. His dark eyes finally slid towards me, and I frowned at the accusing look in them - at the heart-wrenching betrayal.

Owen sighed from beside me. "Can I help you? Although I would much rather prefer not to, given the way Polly reacted the last time we met."

"Fuck you," Puck snarled, his nostrils flaring as a dangerous look flashed in his eyes.

I recoiled back into Owen's hold and Puck seemed to notice at the hurt that flashed in his eyes, though his expression was back to normal just as soon.

"Hey, now --," Owen started.

"It's okay," I cut in quickly. "It's okay Owen."

He pursed his lips but backed off anyway, eyeing Puck suspiciously, who glared back at him with just as much intensity, if not more.

I turned towards Puck, and the words that left my mouth surprised even me. "Can we talk?"

"No, Polly --," Owen interjected at the same time that Puck let out a gruff, "Yes."

I sighed and gave Owen a reassuring look. "It's fine. I just want to say a few things." He looked reluctant but let me go anyway and I followed Puck into a side alley.

He turned towards me as I got ready to open my mouth to demand questions, but the words died on my lip as I analyzed the look he was giving me.

Puck scanned my appearance, concern clouding his expression, however, the expression diminished right as he realized that I noticed. Instead, he cleared his throat, his dark eyes straying away from he as he nonchalantly asked, "You drunk?"

"Not anymore," I replied, staring up at him, trying to gauge for any type of reaction. "Owen helped me sober up."

I immediately regretted my words when Puck's jaw clenched, a hard look replacing the neutral one in his eyes. "He's helping you now, huh?" Puck scoffed. "Who are you going to use after him?"

I stepped back and flinched as if he slapped me, catching sight of the regret that was quick to follow Puck's expression. But I couldn't find it in me to empathize with him at the moment, for the anger that ran through my veins burned bright and passionate.

"Well it seems like you're pretty educated on that topic," I remarked coldly as I made to back away from him, wanting to end our encounter as soon as possible.

But before I could get the chance to get away, Puck grabbed my arm and twisted me around to pin me up against the alley wall. I glared at him - the audacity - and opened my mouth to yell for Owen, knowing full well he would want to tear Puck away from me, but I was too slow. Because the next thing I knew, Puck's hand was covering my mouth, squeezing it, hard enough to make sure I didn't get a word out, but soft enough that the grip wasn't painful.

"Polly... I - That was wrong," he sputtered, his eyes full of regret. "I'm sorry!"

I scoffed, pushing his hand away. "How many times will you apologize, Puck? How many times do you expect me to forgive you? Is that what this is about? You're playing me because you know that I'll keep forgiving you! But I won't! Not anymore! I --"

"Polly!" Puck's voice boomed, loud and clear, effectively stopping me from going on, his eyes - filled with hopelessness - searching mines. "H-how can you think that?" he asked, shoulders slumped, defeated.

I glared at him. "You've given me more than enough reasons to." At that, I saw something break in Puck's eyes, and as much as I felt bad for hurting him, I couldn't help but think...what about me? Who was going to feel bad when they hurt me? Who was going to apologize when they hurt me? Me. Just me. I had spent the majority of my life having to disregard my feelings and I just...couldn't do it anymore. I wanted love too. I needed it too.

"I... Y-you're right," Puck whispered, hanging his head, breath fanning over my neck as tears made their way to my eyes. "You're right," he repeated, this time, stronger.

With the last ounce of strength I possessed, I pushed Puck away from me, ignoring the wounded look on his face as I took a step away from him, towards Owen, my arms crossed over my chest. "It's your dad, isn't it?" I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ground.

"What?"

I let out a shaky breath. "Your dad," I breathed. "He wants something from you." When I glanced back up, Puck looked ashamed, his dark eyes filled to the brim with numerous different emotions.

"Something like that," he replied, gulping. "I-I can explain...everything."

I stared up at Puck, at his hopeful expression, and felt my heart crack a little as I turned away. "Not now," I said. "Later." From my peripheral, I spotted Puck's look faltering a little, but he seemed to understand that even this was more than enough from me.

"Okay." He nodded, a sigh leaving his mouth. "Okay... Tonight?"

"Sure."

There was a moment of silence before Puck spoke up again, "I can drive you home." At that, my head snapped to him and I shook my head.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I whispered, and Puck's expression crumbled before he nodded again.

Neither of us said anything as I walked away, back to Owen, who was waiting patiently to drive me home, but I felt Puck's eyes boring into me from behind, probing and begging, although I did nothing.

Owen and I were silent on the way back.

And I was thinking...

I liked Puck. That much was clear. I had spent far too long avoiding that thought.

But now that I had fully felt the feeling of losing him - of the feeling of hurt and sorrow and worry that came with it - I had to admit it to myself. I cared for him just as much as he cared for me. I liked him just as much as he liked me.

Get ready for the next chapter! *wink* :D