Since We're Alone |NH|

Chapter 6

I stood with my head against the door, my eyes shut.  I listened to her yell a few choice profanities and insults my way before I heard her huff and stomp off.  Peaking through the peephole, I saw her begin to gather up all the trash bags of her crap I had tossed in there.  She should be happy I even bothered to do that.  Mark had wanted me to just toss it all loose out on the street and torch it.  I laughed and then momentarily thought about doing just that, but I didn't need anything else added to this situation.

Turning around, my back hit the door as I slid down it.  Burying my head in my knees, I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, trying not to let myself cry.  My heart was racing. 

Maybe thirty minutes later, I heard what sounded like a car door closing, then starting, then pulling away.  I got up off the floor and peeked out the window.  Nearly everything was gone.  She'd probably be back for the rest.  Or maybe, with any luck, she'd never come back.

Closing the curtain again, I made my way to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator for a beer before deciding I needed something stronger.  Closing it, I pulled out a glass, dropped in some ice cubes, and found the bottle of whiskey she had given to me for my birthday. 

"No better time to finish this off," I quietly said, as I poured my first of what I'm sure would be many glasses.

I drank it pretty quickly before pouring my second.  Picking the glass up, I slowly started walking around my house.  Our house.  It was mine, but she had lived here for nearly a year and a half - around the time I started thinking something was going on because she had gotten kicked out of her apartment for not paying rent for several months.  And my stupid self thought it would be a great idea to let her move in.

I found my way to the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe, taking another sip of my drink, the brown liquid burning my throat as it went down.

Looking around, I ended up staring at the bed, the bedside table where her phone usually charged, the bathroom where my entire sense of self had gotten obliterated that morning.  Her words replayed through my mind - the ones she had written, as well as the ones she had just spoken.  I didn't know how much of it was her being truthful or how much of it was her being spiteful.  Either way, it was all already fucking with my head.

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket.  Pulling it out, I saw Mark was calling me, "Need me to come over?" He asked as soon as I answered.

I looked around me once more, "Yeah, I do."

"Be right there."

A few minutes later, I heard a knock on my door.  Still standing in the doorway of my bedroom, I turned around and made my way to the door.  Peeking through to make sure it wasn't her, I opened it for Mark.

He held up a case of Guinness.  "Nothing like a taste of home for moments like these," he said coming in.

"Why do you think I pulled out the whiskey," I said, softly.

Mark pulled out one can before placing the rest of the case in the fridge.  "How'd it go?" He asked, finding a glass to pour it in.

"Horrible."

"Horrible how?  She try to convince you to not break up with her?  Or just horrible because breakups are horrible?"

"Both."

"But you did it?"

"Yes, I did," I said, slightly annoyed before calming myself down and sitting down on the couch.  "She tried to tell me this wasn't her fault.  And maybe it's not entirely, but she's certainly responsible for most of it.  Right?  And then she berated me for the way I look right now.  And that she needed to be high just to look at me.  And that I'm disgusting.  She said all that after trying to say she still cares about me.  Funny, right?"

"Well, obviously not."

"She was so mean. She fucking hates me. And I don't even know what I did."

"You did nothing wrong, Niall."

"She also tried to say she wasn't worried because she knew I'd be back."  

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Mark scoffed, taking a sip of his beer.

"Don't let me be that fucking stupid, Mark.  Don't let me decide I need her back in my life."

"Dude, if you take her back, at any point....ever...I will have you committed because you really would have lost your damn mind then."

"This house already feels empty though," I said, softly, before trying to once again keep myself from crying.

"It's an adjustment.  No one is going to say this isn't hard, Niall.  It takes time."

I sighed, "Yeah, well, I've got loads of time right now."

"Find a way to fill it.  Maybe you'll finally be able to write."

I scoffed, "Yeah, maybe."

Mark sat with me for a bit longer. We didn't say much, mostly just continued to drink while I wallowed. But, I was thankful for him simply being there. It meant a lot. 

Eventually, I decided to call it a night. Mark offered to stay but I told him I'd be fine. I locked the door behind him and went up to the bedroom. Falling on to the covers, I didn't bother undressing as I reached my arm out to the now empty side of the bed. Closing my eyes, I let the night swallow me whole.