𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬

seventeen. | after/twenty-two.

after
twenty-two

"She's beautiful."

Anaca pretends as if he doesn't hear me.

He's pulled all the excess nails from the walls and is now working on patching the holes left behind.

I had excused myself after he sent Auden on her way. And by on her way I mean, back next door. I needed a second to get myself together.

This is a lot for the both of us.

It's been five years.

Of course, things have changed. I've changed. He's changed.

If only what lies between us had as well. But it's still there. I saw it in his eyes the moment we found ourselves in the same room again. Whatever is it was that tugged at the two of us, is still there. As much Anaca is very clearly trying to deny it.

"And friendly," I continue. "Less bitchy."

That earns me a sneer.

"Come on," I drone. "Madison was bitchy. Whatever happened with that anyway?"

"Does it matter?" he returns to scrapping to the wall.

"You were with her for a long time," I say.

"Fizzled out."

"Were you ever really bubbling to begin with?"

"Woody," he groans.

I'm pushing him too much.

"Sorry."

"Maybe..." he sighs. "We need some boundaries," his arm falls to his side as he sets the scraper down. "We obviously lacked them before and... you know where that got us."

His hands rest on his hips as I stare at him for a moment.

I felt as if there were nothing but boundaries. He gave so much but held back so much more because a painful little moral made him feel bad about it.

I did understand though.

Which is why I wanted to wait till I graduated.

I wanted to ease that guilt.

At least to start with.

"What are you so worried about happening?" I can't help myself. "The only problem between us to begin with was my age. I'm an adult now and you're happily in a relationship, are you not?"

I see him fight the urge to roll his eyes at me.

"So why can't we speak as friends do?"

"It's different," he mutters. "And you know that."

"The only reason it feels different to you is because you refuse to see me as anything other than a child."

He's right. It is different.

But it's different because it's him and me.

That has always felt different.

Any course our lives took now is utterly acceptable.

But he hangs on to the teenage girl he saw last.

"I see you," he replies. "I've always seen you."

"Then why is it so hard for you to tell me the truth? I'm asking you a question and you act as if I'm too innocent to hear the answer. Only I never was."

"You're going to make this hard, aren't you?" he levels with me, finally unmasking his own frustration. "What was that bullshit on the porch?"

"I am interested in yoga."

He glares.

"I'm not a virgin. You made sure of that."

"Christ."

He pinches his nose.

My feet begin to move on their own.

A step and another and another.

Until I'm standing right in front of him.

How is it he's so familiar and so different at the same time?

"I don't want this to be hard for you, Anay," I murmur gently and his eyes open. "Despite what you may think about yourself, I do believe you deserve to be happy."

His irritation softens a bit.

"But my favorite drug has just been unexpectedly dangled in front of me and for the first time in my life, I have nothing to stop me from shooting up. No morals. No judgements. Not a damn thing."

I tilt my head, peering up at him. A silly part of me keeps seeing the man I left, but he's not whose standing in front of me. This version is very clearly harboring so much regret.

And I ache for the girl he broke.

But I also ache for him.

He shouldn't carry this.

"All I have is my willpower," I swallow. "And prayer that it be enough for the time being."

I didn't realize how close I had come till I felt his breath on my face when he exhales.

I thought about a time I might see Anaca again often over the years. Sometimes I thought I might pretend as if he didn't still consume me, but as life would have it, I cannot. I'm before him and it's as if I never left. We're arguing over the same things. Things that no longer matter.

Just standing here I feel high.

And its be so long since I felt the eyes pop open.

But now, as they rub off their sleep.

It's awake again.

He must feel it too.

"Which is why I think we need boundaries."

Or not.

"Sure," I quip, stepping away from him. "Whatever you think is best."

"Woody—"

I shake my head. "I'll do my best to be appropriate as long as you do as I've asked of you. I can't handle it if you keep looking at me like a muddy mistake you once made."

That look makes me itchy.

It makes me want to break things.

Things as in him.

And me.

"I already said I would try."

"Alright, but can I ask you one last question before I start pretending?"

Anaca chews on his cheek with a swift nod.

"Does she know?"

"Who—Auden?"

I nod.

"Of course not."

That stings but I'm not sure why. If it's because I was so insignificant or because he is truly that ashamed.

"Then there's no reason I can't go to the yoga class."

He seems uneasy about the idea.

"Don't worry," I say. "I'm not a snitch. I have no intention of telling her about the time you hooked up with a teenager."

I'm being crass, but I'm not sure I know any other way to be now.