*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐ "But somewhere here in between
the city walls of dying dreams, I think her
death it must be killing me." *ೃ༄
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
they say love's a game of easy come and easy go, but not everybody is Brit...
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✩ November 1999 (continuing from last chapter)
"Just give me a second mate." Damon patted the cab driver's shoulder, swiftly making his way out of the car and catching Valia when she stumbled up to the doorsteps.
She frowned, spinning her head around as though she was looking for something. "My purse. Dames, I don—–"
He intervened, guiding her by the girl's lower back towards the door of her residence in Camden. "It's with me." He says, holding up the small bag in his hand, waving them around.
"Oh. Thank you." She slurred, eyes squinted at the cab, still embedded at the same place as before. Damon shuffled through her keys, even after all this time, he could still remember which one opened the front door. He swung the wooden door open, blinking over at the hazed girl.
Damon watched as she continued to stare at the cab. "Let's get you in, okay?"
She didn't budge. "Is the cab waiting for you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He furrowed his eyebrows at her, not understanding what she was on about. "I need a ride back to the pub." He said it rather slowly, as though he wanted it to be clear and straightforward, maybe because he thought that she was way too drunk to even comprehend anything.
"But I want you to stay."
Valia was watching him with expectancy, almost pleading for him to say yes. But it was a long shot, she was drunk and high, she doubted that he wanted to sit around and be with her. Not when he had tried to get her to escape all the intoxication throughout their whole relationship. Damon pursed his lips, taken aback by the girl. "I can't, Val."
She stayed still, her bloodshot eyes flickering between him and the inside of her house. "Please. We could just talk."
He took in a deep breath, ultimately shaking his head no again. "I'm sorry. I should get back."
"I just want to have you around." Valia tells him silently, observing how the Blur frontman peered inside her house, contemplating. "Just for a chat. I promise."
"I think you're a little too drunk for any kind of chat, Val." He laughed awkwardly, having to see her so out of it didn't get any easier. Damon thought that he was done with it, being around the bassist when all she reeked off was cigarettes and alcohol. It tore him apart.
She gave him a silly smile. "Then i'll listen to you talk." Val let out with a messy confidence. "I always love to hear you talk."
He flickered his eyes away from her, dropping his gaze to the keys in his hands, jiggling them as a form of distraction. It was no doubt that he knew he was hardly over her, in fact, Damon doubted that he ever would be. Valia Mick was his muse, and quite literally, the greatest love of his life. There was nobody else like her, and none compared to the girl. It just shattered him that they didn't make it out of their relationship alive, that Valia was stood in front of him in worse shape than he had let her go back in 1998. And now, he was in a new chapter in his life, yet she was stuck in the past. "Maybe it's not a good idea to leave you home all alone when you're in this state."
