All Over You

No Other Explanation

The disabled toilet we are hunched up in falls silent as I take a moment to discard the bloodied tissues from Liam's face. They're claret all over. I cannot believe how much this man bleeds. I begin washing my hands aggressively. My head is whirling and I have never had such conflicting emotions. I want to hit him for being an asshole, yet I also want to cry and beg him to truly notice me. I wish he'd set me apart from the others. There's even a small part of me that wants to kiss his lips and feel him close to me, just this once. I just know I can't falter. I can't pretend one kiss with Liam would be enough for me. I am much past that point. 

The overwhelming urge to cry seems to win, and I feel tears pricking in my eyes as the whole night catches up on me. 

"You're done. I'm going to get some air." I tell him without turning around. The tears are threatening to spill even before my shaky fingers have managed to fiddle with the stubborn lock.

"Let me come with you!" Liam shouts, shuffling about behind me.

"No thank you."

I rush towards the doors and throw them open, feeling the night air cool the flush in my cheeks instantly. As much as I want him to be with me, I know I'd get no space to think. He always manages to cloud my thoughts. I also need to cry, and I'd hate him seeing me cry. He'd think I'm weak and immature when I'm trying to convince him otherwise. The tears spill down my cheeks and I crumple my face up into the darkness, sobbing silently as I wander over to the cement stairs leading to the barren street. I settle down on the top step and my denim skirt rides up, freezing my thighs. All I've done since I developed feelings for Liam is cry. I cry over things that don't matter. I cry when he barely says anything at all. I cry when he so much as looks in another girl's direction. It isn't right. I cry even harder at the thought, my head in my hands as I mentally curse myself out for not falling for someone more like Geoff who would give anything up for Hayley. Why can't Liam give up his reputation for me?

"Tiffany?"

My chest aches at the realisation he's standing right behind me. The soft tone in which he called my name soothes me, yet breaks me apart all in one. It still baffles me that he has the power to do so. He seems much less amused than before, it sounds as if he has sobered up substantially in the five minutes since we last spoke. 

"Why did you follow me?" I ask through sobs.

"I... I thought you'd get cold." He stammers, catching me off guard.

I can tell he's still tipsy, but he seems very taken aback. I don't bother replying as I don't trust myself to do so. The alcohol is still in my system and it's a risk I'm not willing to take.

Evidently realising that he won't get a reply, I feel the soft silk of his jacket wrap around my bare arms. I debate what to do, but eventually grab it and pull it closed around me. I treat it like a comfort blanket, breathing in the scent of him. Expensive deodorant and the plastic from his hair gel mix together to form the most amazing treat for my nostrils. He still smells like freshly cut grass on a Summer's day. 

He shuffles around and sits next to me on the step. My head is fuzzy, my emotions fight against each other and I genuinely have no idea to act. I decide to be cold and distant, even though he's being sweet. I have to cut him off, he isn't good for me. Being harsh is the only way I could possibly do so.

"Wont Skye be missing you?" I huff, turning away from him.

"Why Skye?"

I shrug.

"Should we go back to the hotel?" Liam interrupts my silence.

"What about the others?"

"They'll be okay in large numbers. I'll text them we got back safe."