You make me ache

Ch50: Over-thinking and Understanding.

Troye's POV.

"We need to talk. I need to tell you something". Tyler's words linger in the small distance between our bodies, taking a moment for me to receive and understand them.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" I ask, concern swamping me and causing panic to start to bubble in the pit of my stomach.

"I'm fine. I just. I just have to tell you something and I need you to listen. I need you to hear what I'm saying and not get angry".

"Okay..." I clutch the fleecy throw closer to my naked body, suddenly feeling vulnerable due to his anxious tone and desperate plea. Tyler takes a deep breath and shuffles closer to me. Sat opposite him with my knees bent and tucked underneath me, I let Tyler take my hand into his. Seconds feel like minutes as he builds up the courage to end my unnerving curiosity, causing me to prompt him, "Ty?"

"Sorry. Yeah, uhm, I don't know where to start".

"The beginning is always a good place" I retort, my worry presenting itself in an ugly, impatient form.

Tyler's fingers curl between mine, locking us together as if afraid that I'll soon yank my hand away from his touch, causing the bubbling panic in me to rise.

"I've not been entirely honest with you," he gently says. My heart falters for second, failing to beat as his voice hits my understanding. "Troye, I lied the other night. I didn't mean to, I just-"

"What? When? About what?" I interrupt, not caring for the rest of his sentence unless it answers my urgent questions.

"Wednesday". My brain scrambles to retrieve how we had spent that day and night, yet the unease that fills me blocks me from being successful. Tyler watching my confused, worried expression seems to understand this and helpfully reminds me, "Wednesday was the night we spent in the 'fort'. When you made me pumpkin pie".

"With the whipped cream..." I add. The memories of how giggling and cuddling together under the blanket ceiling of our makeshift 'fort' turned into a sensual, intimate night slowly come back to me. The knowledge that he lied to me on that night, either before or after loosing ourselves to each other's naked bodies, causes a feeling of nausea to find me. Automatically, I force my hand free from his and stand up from our bed whilst still clutching the throw-blanket to my body.

"Yeah, that night". His voice is weak, laced with guilt and worry. "I was going to tell you when I got home but the smoke alarm was going, and we had to fix all of that," he explains as if this justifies his dishonesty. I bite my tongue from lashing out a snarky comment. Instead, I open the drawer I have found myself stood at and take out a pair of my underwear to slip on. He nervously continues speaking, "after we sorted the alarm, I realised that you had spent so much time trying to give us a perfect night together- with the baking and then the whole 'igloo and stars' turned 'fort and fairy lights' idea". Ignoring his obvious nerves, I cannot hold back my bubbling emotions nor an unwanted reply,

"No. I spent so much time trying to prepare a perfect night for you Tyler. Not us, you". As my words leave me, I hear him make a small noise of defeat. No longer completely naked, I let the blanket-throw drop to the carpet and with my back still turned to him, I walk towards our closet and begin to find myself a t-shirt to wear.

"I know. That's why I couldn't say anything. I didn't want to spoil it".

"Tyler, just stop all of this! Just tell me, what was the lie?"

"You asked me about my work meetings. I told you that I had nothing important to share with you but I did. I do".