guilty pleasure [bieber]

chapter 11

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I throw my feet over the edge of the bed my feet padding against the hardwood floor as I make my way into kitchen to get water. When I make it in there Justin is sitting on a stool; his hooded eyes tell me the dark drink in one hand is alcoholic and in the other hand there's a pill bottle.

What was he doing?

"Justin..." I trail off.
"Prenatal Vitamins?" He holds them up.

I'm frozen in my spot; feet glued to the floor. Rendered speechless. I have no clue what to say and he isn't making any effort to say anything either. I stand there trying and ultimately failing to avoid his intense gaze. This wasn't good. He was angry, I was sure of it.

"I was going to tell you" it's all I can manage

"You were going to tell me? But you didn't Naomi. You didn't; so I don't want to hear your bullshit excuses." he rises from the chair the vitamins in one hand while his other flails in the air shooing away my words like they're worthless and in his eyes they were.

I sigh when he brushes past me making his way into the foyer. Timidly I follow him.

"When did you find out?" He finally questions through gritted teeth; his body language saying what he isn't

"The other week.... when I hit my head" I answer and the room falls silent. I stare at his back while he stares out at the skyline "It was a surprise to me too Justin. I swear I wasn't trying to hide it from you. I was scared. I still am." I add

Justin turns around and sits the pill bottle on the glass table and sighs heavily. He strides over to me and we stand there face to face. "I'm sorry." My voice is light as a feather. My bottom lip quivers waiting for his next move. I just wish I knew what he was thinking.

"I love you Naomi," He moves hair out of my face and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in. "But this–this is just something you should have told me about."

"I know; it was stupid of me not to tell you right away"

We sit there for minutes. Maybe hours. I had no clue just looking at one another in a deafening chasm silence. The heat of his breath on my skin while his forehead rests on mine. Then slowly he plants a soft chaste kiss on my lips. I'm taken back by his action and I have to ask, "Does this mean you aren't mad?" The hope in my voice evident.

He drops his hands to his side and sighs "Like I said. I love you, but it's late and we're not going to work this out tonight." He grabs my hand intertwining our fingers and he starts walking as I trail behind him; he leads me down the hall. When we make it to our room it feels different. We stride in unison over to the bed. "Get in." He says pulling the duvet back. It's a command and I know not to argue.

I slide in then over waiting for him to lie in bed with me. He shakes his head, "I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom."

My face visibly falls.

"I thought you weren't mad." I state matter-of-factly.

"I never said that. But you need rest and I-" he pauses then takes a deep breath; running a hand through his hair. "I need space." Oh. He needs space, it's just the couch and hopefully just for the night; I think to myself, but in the end I know it's more than that. He doesn't say any more he simply turns out the light and exits the room. I don't try to stop him because there was nothing I could say or do.