Die In California

55

Rook's POV:

Did I regret everything that had gone down in the past few days? Of course I fucking did. But I also knew that I couldn't rewind time. I couldn't change the past. She'd have found out about it at some point regardless. And it still would've caused a rift between us. Either that, or a different argument would've come along.

Things weren't right. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but things weren't right between us. It seemed tensions were high, and we'd somehow gradually drifted apart. We weren't as ravenous with each other, we weren't as clingy, and we weren't being as honest with each other any more. But we were far too deep to turn back time and simply fix things.

Instead of trying to fix the root cause of it all - like I probably should've done much earlier - I decided to try and mask the problem. I'd spoil her with flowers and chocolates, shower her in affection. I'd avoid topics of tension such as drugs, smoking, parties or anything of that sort. I'd be overly honest with things that I knew couldn't make things worse between us.

I'd also noticed a difference in Devyn's behaviour, with her doing similar things. Seems we were just as bad as each other. Whether that meant we were destined for each other, or that would be a recipe for heartbreak, I couldn't be sure.

"Alright, motherfuckers. Sit the fuck down." It really took Kells sitting us both down on my bed for us to get things sorted. He'd seen everything unfold before his steel blue eyes, and decided we weren't handling our relationship good enough for his standards - he took things into his own hands.

He first grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me from the shot of whiskey I was pouring myself at 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon. I, of course, cursed him out and tried to pull against his hold, but he paid no mind to my struggles. Instead, he dragged me through to the garden to grab Devyn's wrist, her sketchpad dropping from her thighs as she stood up and ran after us, trying to keep up with his unreasonably long legs.

Kells dragged us up the stairs and over to my bedroom, and shoved us both through the door before following and shutting the door - all against our will. That was when he told us to sit. "Shuddup, bitch." I laughed with a shake of my head, shifting my weight to mask my nervousness. I knew what this was going to be about, and I didn't feel ready for this conversation; I knew it couldn't be any good. But Kells was giving us no other option.

"No. You shut the fuck up. Both of you shut the fuck up. You've been on-edge for the past few weeks an' I'm fuckin' sick of it! 'M fuckin' sick of the shit you two are going through. WE ALL ARE! Hell, even Casie noticed a fuckin' difference. So get your shit together, clean your acts up, and for fuck's sake, please just put your pride behind you for once and fucking TALK!" He stressed, his voice rising. It's safe to say that silenced us pretty quickly.

I watched with eyes wide in disbelief, as Kells looked at us both with a hopeless expression, before shaking his head in exasperation as he left the room in an eerie silence, closing the door behind him. I stared at the door, trying to take a moment to process what the fuck had just happened. When I came to the conclusion that I couldn't process it, I turned to Devyn with bowns pulled together, a frown pulling on my lips.

My expression was mirrored on Devyn's face, the two of us staring, completely speechless, at each other. That was before Devyn finally broke the uncomfortable silence. I'd been through everything with Kells, but he'd never been so abrupt and firm with me before. It was always teasing and funny shit, getting high and drunk, and just being brothers. But now, he was filling Pops' place; it would usually be him to enforce a reality check on us.

"Well shit." Devyn awkwardly laughed, as she slowly turned to take a seat on the edge of the bed. I nodded with a dry, forced laugh, then followed her movements and sat, keeping space between us. "We should probably listen to him though." She sighed, but it didn't sound defeated, or as though this was the last thing she wanted to do. If anything, there was a hint of hope in her voice. Hope that things could get better.