nyctophilia | dreamwastaken

our bridge

SUNDAY:

1:52 am...

He doesn't move for a long time. He's just staring at me with an expression that I can't decipher. It does little to soothe my nerves. I try not to squirm underneath his gaze, and I watch as he finally moves.

He blinks slowly before looking away. "You're sorry for meeting me at the bridge?" He asks, confused. I hold my breath as I nod. Clay looks back at me, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Why?" I bite my lip, slightly exhaling.

"Because if I hadn't met you, we wouldn't be going through his confusing mess," I admit, looking away. I glance back to catch his reaction, my body pausing. He's looking at me with anger, a terrifying kind of anger. The kind that makes your hairs rise and goosebumps travel down your skin.

"Do you seriously think that what we're going through is a confusing mess?" His harsh tone comes at me unexpectedly, and I almost rear backward. Shit, I worded it wrong, didn't I? I swallow, trying to see if I can somehow fix this.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant-." "Do you regret ever doing anything with me? Do you regret meeting me in general?" Clay interrupts, his eyes slightly narrowed. I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off again. "God, why did I ask? Of course, you'd regret it. You've been hostile with me since day one."

He sighs, glancing away. "Even our dumb deal didn't even last." His words stab my heart, creating a small crack. I feel my throat start to tighten up. "Clay-." He silences me with a look. I feel a terrible ache grow in the pit of my stomach as he takes a deep breath.

"Just leave it, okay? I know what you mean." I want to yell at him that he doesn't know what I mean, but instead, I close my mouth, and I stay silent. He nods once as if satisfied that I'm not going to continue. Then, he turns on his side, his back facing me again.

My words are stuck in my throat as I try desperately not to cry. Why did I have to fucking say all this shit? God, I just keep digging a deeper grave for myself. I slowly turn, biting my cheek to suppress my shaky breathing. 

I close my eyes, feeling like I just got punched in the gut. I try to sleep, but my mind keeps me awake. I can tell Clay isn't sleeping either because I hear his breathing stop often before returning to normal. I reopen my eyes, wanting to say something.

After a moment, I open my mouth, my voice coming out all breathless and pathetic. "Clay, can we please talk?" The moment of vulnerability hangs in the air. It isn't for another few seconds before he replies. "No."

The single word has me choking back my tears, hating how much one single word affects me. "I just want to say-." "I don't want to fucking hear your words." He snaps coldly. I feel my breathing stutter as the blood inside of me slows down. "Leave me alone."

Shit. I screwed up big time, didn't I? I squeeze my eyes shut, turning on my back. I want to get out of here. I want to forget that Clay ever happened, and I want to forget everything that happened between us. The problem, however, is that even if I wanted to hate him, I still loved him.

My heart skips a beat as my eyes fly open, my mouth parting in surprise.

I love him.

I swallow dryly, my throat aching. Oh my god. I'm going to vomit. A single tear slips out of my eye, and I sit up. My vision goes funny for a few seconds as I throw the blankets off of me. I hear Clay shifting to see what I'm doing, but I'm already at the trashcan.

I vomit into the trashcan, coughing and shaking. I rest the side of my face on the rim, my stomach lurching again. I hear the bed creaking as Clay gets up. "y/n?" He asks, not a single hint of worry in his voice.