Still Holding On

sixty-four

He walked away. I thought he knew. 

I shouldn't have told him. At least not right now.

He walked away into the kitchen. That's the thing about Allan—he doesn't listen. At all. 

He slammed the refrigerator shut and threw the bottle on the marble top when I entered the kitchen, rushing behind him. It would've broken but I was almost shocked at how strong the glass bottle was. "Let me at least explain—" I cried but he walked out of the kitchen.

Jace was just following me and Allan around. He had no clue on how he should react and that was only rational. I wonder how he handles my brother.

He's just agitated. And I know he's only concerned about me. But there are other ways to express what and how he feels. A little calmer approach maybe. Banging glasses on the marble tops isn't really one of those. 

He was at the staircase now—stomping his way upstairs to his bedroom where he'd probably lock himself and scream out to music and then pass out. I can't let him repeat that cycle. And for what I know, even Jace can't. 

He does that. He has phases where he just wants to be all alone and then he doesn't and then he needs people, but then again he doesn't. The thing is—he needs them in a different way. He doesn't need consolidations or distractions. He needs attention. Someone who could lift off the madness—the anger, the rage—and put it onto something else.  

He's found those people very rarely. I am one of the very few people that understand this about him. And to an extent, I think Jace does too. 

It's one of the reasons I trust him around Allan. The way Jace gets Allan is the way I do. Allan goes rogue. And he needs to be pulled to the ground every once in a while. And Jace knows that just as well as I do.

It's one of the major things anyone would have to do to handle my little brother.  But for right now, I had to make him believe me. That was the last time. That was the last time I met Nick. Even if it wasn't, I had to make sure he believed me. I don't wanna sort this out on facetime. I wanna get done with this before going. 

"Allan! At least hear her out!" Yes, Jace. You're clearly on team Jess. 

"What the fuck does she have to say about meeting him again?" He was louder than usual as he turned around and took two steps towards us. "Does she not get it? He's fucking holding her back." 

"I can handle that myself." I said. And instantly regretted. 

There's a rulebook to handling Allan Colebrooks. And as far as I know\, the only two people that have gotten a hold of it are me and Jace. One of the rules describes how you don't just blurt out anything when Allan is pissed or emotional. The tongue should be tied and controlled or it would only lead to Allan being more raged or emotional.

Before I knew it, he was up the stairs, by his door. I had to play the sister card. I had to. "So you aren't even gonna say bye?"

He turned around and screamed "Sure. Bye." 

What was I thinking asking him for a bye?

---❁---

I was sitting in the living room, approximately half an hour later. Jace walked in after trying a few times but Allan wouldn't open up the door. The stubbornness he has, it's infuriating. 

"No response again?" I asked, hopeless. 

He shook his head as he took a seat.

I took a good minute to compress my anger. "Fine then!" I got up and picked up my handbag kept on the other couch and the car keys on the side table.

Jace jerked up from his seat. "But—" He started to speak as I cut him off. 

"No." I looked at him and he knew I was mad and I wouldn't listen to anything he would say and it would be just as pointless. I gave him a sweet little hug and I left the living room.

I was rushing to the door, caressing my jeans, looking down at my shoes. I checked my bag for my phone and then took it out. Suddenly I looked up and he was standing there. 

I was startled. Nick was standing right there. As if he was waiting to scare me all this while. 

What. did. Allan. do?

There were thuds—from the stairs. I turned around and saw Allan. I swear to God will I kill him.

"This was a huge misunderstanding." I spoke, looking at the ground. 

I took Nick's hand and dragged him out of the house. "What are you doing here?" I asked, almost crying. 

"I just want to talk to you." He said.

"This isn't right Nick!" I cried.

"We can do this together, Jess!" His arm slid down to my hand and he held it. 

"Don't!" I muttered. But I missed this.

No. This was happening all wrong. I missed a part of Nick. A part of us. I missed the bond we had. And that's something I know for a fact won't come back, no matter how hard we try. It isn't about giving us another chance. Haven't we been here? I wanna be around him and more than that be carefree around him like before. But now it's just fear—concern—if whatever I do just results in breaking the bond further. 

I used to be satisfied. I used to be happier in whatever we had. It was always fulfilled—the constant need I have for emotions. He was enough. 

But now, it's tiring—how everything needs to be limited. I am not satisfied. And I know it's my fault and my fault only. And so I can't put him through this. If I agree to this, I will agree to reconsider my needs. I will agree to let down myself and I wouldn't mind doing so if only it did make me happy like before in return. 

It doesn't. It only makes me feel captive. Like I'm locked down in a certain space, being forced to feel certain emotions.

He was staring at me—wide-eyed, curious like a kid. I looked up to him and without a second thought popped up onto my toes and kissed him.

He was taken aback. But that was exactly what I wanted. It felt good. His hand cupped my face and mine pressed against his chest. It was like a perfect moment, from all those rom-coms. The perfect end. But that's what they do—give you a perfect kiss and throw in the credits. That's not exactly how life works. I can't throw in credits and just let this be the way it is.

So I lean out. And pat his chest. And look up at his face as he smiles. "I'm sorry." I said calmly with a smile. "Take care of yourself, Nick." 

I got into the car, sighed. And then drove off.

Just like that. He knew it. I knew it.

❁❁❁

I hope I'm finally back to writing.
I hate writers block.