CHAOS

JOSEPH, LAYLA

JOSEPH

She ran out of the club in a cold sweat, which radiated the bright light in the lot. 
Her hair was a mess, and it looked like she was having trouble breathing.
My stomach twirled into strings, I refused they were butterflies. I blame the pancakes but who the fuck am I kidding.

She was beautiful, like the shine of a diamond. She was still radiant, And all I wanted to do was hold her in my hands. Tighter than ever so she won't escape ever again. But I can't do that.

Not yet, not ever. 

But I could still look at her, admire her, protect her, and perhaps, love her. 

I honked twice. Catching her attention, she looked right at me and started walking towards the car. 

when she reached, she immediately opened the door and slid in, I didn't even get a chance to look at her before my head flew to the window,
the sting coming in way later. It took me a moment to even react after I realized that she had slapped me.

but when I recollected myself and looked at her. my stomach dropped. 

LAYLA

"YOU FUCKING PRICK," I screamed.
my tears streaming down my neck, I wiped them roughly.

I couldn't stop the sobs from coming out my chest, and my body shivering. I knew this was going to happen soon but not now, not tonight. more tears streamed down.

All he offered was a horrified look, 
But my vision wasn't clear, my tears were uncontrollable and I wasn't catching up on my breaths. 

I felt him guide me to the driver's side, slowly yet effortlessly picking me up and setting me in his arms. Quite literally cradling me. But instead of that calming me down it triggered me more. I could feel myself shaking.

My mind had given up trying to give itself any words of consolation, my body was out of control, and all I could do was say something and get it all out before it affected me more and more.

"Layla, just breathe," he said, rubbing my back, and kissing my forehead.
I wanted to tell him that it was too late for that, that stage had passed.

"Where the fuck were you?" I managed to ask between my sobs and hiccups.
"I-"
"Why didn't you tell me," I asked, breaking down again.

JOSEPH

She kept sobbing more and more and the beating in my chest increased every second.
I couldn't even muster up words to console her. I shouldn't have left from there. 

I was chanting "I'm sorry" at this point. Having no idea what to say to her that will calm her down. Something that would soothe her and get her out of the pain she was in right now.

"I can't lose you again, Joseph. Why don't you get that?" she said, buried into my chest, still whimpering her soul out. I felt a chill go down my spine. 

I held her closer, kissing her head millions of times. 
My chest felt heavy, My own tears filled my eyes as I looked at her in this state because of me.

I don't fucking deserve her, how could I do this?

FUCKFUCKFUCK. I thought she'd like this and instead, she's crying because of me. What the fuck is wrong with me. 

-

15 minutes passed and finally, she calmed down slightly. She caught her breath and her sobs died. hiccups replacing them. But there was no way I was letting her out of my arms. I kept her tight to me. Still in a panic myself.

I didn't know I how would apologize to her,
her arm slowly rose and hooked around my neck for extra support. Making me pull her closer to me.

She looked so small and tired. And all I could do was blame myself. 

She kept her other hand on my chest. keeping it there for a moment.
It gave me a small relief for a moment yet I couldn't stop shaking.

"Joseph," she said, her voice cracking.
"yes, baby," I said on reflex looking at her face finally, 

"oh my god," I whispered, closing my eyes, my chest hurt like crazy. And seeing her face, filled with tears, her makeup ruined that she put on right in front of me, and her deformed shape. 

I never thought someone's one look could make me physically hurt so much.

"Your heart. It's going crazy," she observed, pressing her hand to my chest again.

-

LAYLA

"That's because it's fucking scary, Layla." his voice broke, and he looked to the ceiling of the car, hiding his tears. 

I looped my hands around him again, 

"I am so fucking sorry," he said, looking back at me. His tears streamed down.

"I- I thought you would want to go for a ride like the old days, I was about to-"
he paused,
"to call you but, then it was too late," he said, hugging me tight,
"I'm sorry,"

"Don't be sorry. I-" I paused,
I couldn't tell him. The panic attacks weren't something I could discuss right now.

"I would love to go on a ride," I said, having nothing else to say,
"no we're going back in," he said
"no, no, I want to," I said, taking his hand in mine, and giving him a squeeze of reassurance.

"Are you sure?" he asked,

I slid back to my seat and nodded, wiping my nose,

This is okay, this is oddly comfortable. This is,

"Are you ready?" he asked, making me smile a little bit. 

He turned on the engine and I put my seatbelt on.

"ready as ever," I said,

this is home.

-

As soon as the clock struck midnight.
The car sped up. I tightened my seatbelt.

Small talks were all we had the whole ride. Mostly silence, which was understandable looking back.

But for some reason, this was comforting. Dangerous, but comforting.

His knowing hands reach for the right buttons. Driving was his home, it was his place of peace. And I had been introduced to this place. And no one else. 

Even though we were silent, I could feel the relief in his body. 

And how his face lit up when he saw a cool car on the road.
He was still perfect. The streetlights periodically passed, allowing me to see his face. 

I wanted to embed his features in my mind. His unnatural attractiveness and stoic yet harmless face.

I pulled out my phone took a quick blurred picture of the passing trees on the road and posted it.

But before closing it, I snapped a quick picture of him and he didn't even notice.

I smiled, looking out the window. Looking at his picture. 

I stared at it for a good moment, before tabbing out to my Instagram.

I saw a lot of people liking and reacting to the story, well I guess that's enough for today.
But I'm sure I would get a call tonight about how I don't keep them 'engaged' 

I know they have a life, I don't need to please them all the time.