The Ghost of You [COMPLETED]

Ruined

"I don't want to-" You said, trying to close the door on him, but he put his hand out to stop it. You sighed as you glared at him. "What exactly do you want to talk about?"

He just walked past you and headed into your room. Rolling your eyes, you shut the door and turned round to face him.

"I'm sorry." He started.

"I feel like lately, all we do is say 'sorry' and 'can we talk'. We need to find some new topics." You said sarcastically.

"If you can't be serious about this then-"

"I can." You interrupted as you shifted on your feet. "I can. I'm just..."

"Yeah, me too." He said sympathetically. "Look, I'm not going to say I regret kissing you." Your throat tightened as your brain flooded you with memories of it. "But I don't think it's fair for you to say that we have to be friends, or nothing at all." He added, taking a few steps towards you when he saw that you weren't going to argue back. "I don't think it's fair for you to say that we know nothing about each other anymore, and that we only kissed because we used to be in a relationship."

"It is the reason though." You finally piped up. "We spent years together, years trying to fix it, and it was only because I was a thousand miles away that we stopped talking. And then we've been shoved together and our minds are just confused on how we're supposed to act, trying to pretend that we're friends."

"We can still-"

"No, Brad. First off, you shouldn't even be having this conversation while you're in a relationship. And second, you need to understand that I cannot have a conversation with you where we even think about getting back together."

"Why won't you just-"

"Because you broke my fucking heart Brad!" You shouted suddenly, as the tears formed in your eyes. His face fell in shock. "It was months, months of us pretending like we were still together, but all we were doing was tearing each other apart, insulting each other, getting more distant. I'd spent years being in love with you, and it was like neither of us were letting it just end. It was months where nothing good happened, and I was fucking IDIOTIC enough to believe we could still work!"

"Luka I-"

"And on that final fucking night, when you actually told me you were dating someone, it was like it all fucking crashed. Like I'd only just realised that we'd spent the last year being actually broken up without ever saying it. Like I'd only just realised that you had sent me all my things, had interviews with hickeys on your neck that you tried to cover up, saw you in pictures with other girls. It fucking ruined me!"

"You don't think it broke me as well?" He asked, the emotion clear as his words cracked. "You don't think that realising that it was over was hard for me too?!" You saw the tear roll down his cheek. "You leaving was the hardest fucking thing I've ever gone through, and when you kept coming back, I didn't want to let you go. But you did, you left, everytime!"

"I had to go back!"

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO LEAVE ME!"

You breathed in shock. You had no rebuttal. This was the part that you didn't talk about at your flat. The baggage of it all ending. Somehow you thought you could avoid it all, but the tour, the closeness, the kiss...it was making both of you feel things that you had been trying to forget for three years.

"I know you told me to leave you alone, while you figure all this out." He said, his voice a lot softer, a lot quieter than a second ago. He stepped forward. "But I can't. I can't leave you alone. Not just because of what happened, but because it's you. You were it Luka. You were fucking it for me. Now that you're here, now that I know there's still something there, I just...I can't leave it alone."

"I can't go through that again, Brad. It was horrible, crying over you, trying to get over you, and I just..." You trailed off and sighed, your hands running over your face, subtly wiping away the tears on your cheeks. "I don't want to fight. But it's not fair to ask me to think about you that way again."

"Luka," He said, his hands coming up to your jaw, and tilting your head up so that you were forced to look at him. "I know it wasn't great, any of it at the end. You have to know how much I regret it."

"I do too." You agreed.

"But I don't want you to only think of me as the guy that shouted at you, as the guy that broke your heart."

"I just don't see how we can get past that. We spent so long being mad at each other. I don't understand how you can even think that we could go back to.."

Smiling fondly at you, he used one of his hands to brush the hair away from where it was sticking to your wet cheeks.

"You have to remember..." He said. "We had a lot of good bits too. How you would always drive me to studios, to gigs, taking pictures for our album covers. How you gave me all your wages one month to buy my guitar. How you always pushed me to do better, how you looked first thing in the mornings. Those are the bits I remember the most. You, as a person, the way you made me feel when we were good, not just the shitty situation we were in."

The tears started coming back. For a different reason this time. He wiped the tears away before they even hit your cheeks, and then he was wrapping his arms around you, tugging you to his chest, his head resting on the top of your head as you cried into his shoulder.

He held you in silence for a few minutes as you cried. He didn't say a single thing, as he silently cried as well. His hand rubbed up and down your back as he just waited, waited for you to let everything out.

"I'm not asking to get back together right now. I just need to know where you're at before anything else happens." He whispered into your hair. "I can't tell Maggie what I don't even understand myself. I can't know how I'm supposed to act around you until we figure it out. But Luka," He said as he pulled back a little to look you in the eyes. "What I do know is that it didn't feel as wrong as it should have when I kissed you. I know I'm not imagining the fact that...there's still something between us. And the way you kissed me back tells me that you felt it too."

Your mouth stuttered open slightly, and his eyes flickered down to the movement, but moved back just as quick.

"I can't pretend like nothing is happening. I need you to at least try and think about it. And tell me when you're ready. Honestly tell me. Please?" He asked.

With a shaky inhale, you nodded. He muttered a thank you, and then pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He lingered, his lips pressed to your skin for a second longer than they should have. Then he was letting go of you, the breeze of cold air feeling particularly unwelcome in that moment, and he left.

You walked over to your bed, and fell face first onto it.

You. Were. Fucked.