Ambivalently Yours

Ambivalence

Hiding the shake in your hands as you unlock your front door proves to be difficult, especially since Rafe's eyes watch you intently as you perform the task. You hurriedly open the door and lead the way inside once you're successful with the lock.

Rafe closes and locks the door behind you as a gust of wind pushes its way into your apartment. "It's so cold out," he says, tucking his hands back into his front hoodie pocket.

"It is the middle of winter," you say dryly, somehow forgetting you're about to have a serious talk.

He chuckles. "When you're right, you're right."

Awkward silence.

He clears his throat. "Um, can we go to your room to talk?" he asks.

"Yeah," you answer, already starting to feel the weight this conversation will hold. You turn and head down the hallway, hearing his footsteps behind you as he follows. Out of habit, you shut your door, despite being alone in the apartment with no chance of an interruption. Liz had texted you when the two of you were on your way back, giving you a sincere 'good luck' and letting you know she wouldn't return home until you gave her the all clear.

Rafe moves across the room to sit on the foot of your bed. You sit up by the headboard, eyeing him carefully as you curl your legs up underneath you. You give him an expectant look when he just stares at you.

He swallows and looks away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. As many times as he'd thought about what he needed to say, he couldn't remember where he wanted to begin. When he looks at you again, he finds you looking concerned, your eyebrows knit together in worry and fear.

"I overreacted a bit," he starts. "But you said some things that were... mean," he says, settling for the least offensive term he can think of in the moment.

You press your lips together and nod. "You're right."

His eyebrows shoot up in momentary surprise. He continues. "You were right, though. The delivery was off, but the message was true."

Not what you were expecting. "Oh?"

"Don't look so surprised," he scoffs.

"You've given me the silent treatment for three days," you accuse. "Excuse me for being a little taken aback by you telling me I was right. I've spent all this time thinking I was a hundred percent in the wrong."

"I said I overreacted, okay? I'm trying to make this right," he says, sounding exasperated. "So lose the attitude."

You scowl at him. "I'm allowed to have an attitude. You broke my heart, you don't get to tell me how I should act."

"And my heart wasn't broken?" he asks. "I cried over you and fucking Kelce had to comfort me. Kelce."

You pause, picturing it. "That's actually really sweet."

He sighs in frustration. "Focus, y/n! You're missing the point!" he says.

"What point are you trying to make?"

"That I'm sorry!" he exclaims. "And I want us to fix this!" He pushes his hood off his head, running a hand over his hair. "If that's even what you want."

You're stuck between a range of emotions. Happiness at the idea of fixing this, annoyance at the idea that of course this is an argument, and confusion over why he could possibly think you didn't want him back.

"Why the fuck would I not want this?" you ask.

"Why would you?" he asks. "I'm a coward who can't even talk to his own dad."