Nights Like This One { a joel miller fanfiction }

IX.

A.N. once again giving ya'll this way before everyone else. love you, hope you have a wonderful week <3

"And I can't help myself, all I wanna hear her say is 'are you mine?'" 

— Arctic Monkeys, R U Mine?

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May 3, 2003

Lily sat in her car, in front of his house, manically tapping on the steering wheel with her thumb. The engine was still running, her foot still planted on the brake, she could take her foot off, slam it on the gas and drive back to her mother's home like she knew she should.

But then what would she do when she got back? Sit on the ratty armchair all evening, stare out at the street that still felt foreign even after five months of living on it, counting the hours, forcing herself to stay planted on that chair until it was too late for her to venture to his house.

Staying away from him felt like trying to cage some kind of feral animal, like trying to bottle the ocean, felt like plucking out ribs, hurt like carving out vital organs.

Too great a feat, restraint too thin a thread, that needy, desperate creature inside growing to occupy more and more of her form, clawing and thrashing at that wall that felt a little too feeble now— a shaky, unstable thing that crumbled and cracked more and more each day.

She feared she was giving him too much power, too much of that soft spongy bit of her that she tried to keep hidden so that it would be safe. But god it was so hard to stop, to pull away and hide when he felt like the first place she'd ever gotten to truly rest her head, when it felt like he was holding that soft, spongy bit of her all safe in the large cup of his hands.

And so that needy, begging creature inside of her won the battle as she put her car in park and tugged the keys out of the ignition, but she did silently curse herself as she walked up the driveway to his front door.

This isn't going to hurt, this isn't going to hurt, I won't let this hurt.

She let out a shaky breath, then raised her fist to knock on the door, standing there for a minute, listening to the emptiness on the other side while music and chatter flooded from the backyard.

This was her chance, this was the universe giving her a moment to change her mind, to get back into the car and drive to her mother's house where she would not feel the need to carve out her heart and hold it out to him— some bloody, beating offering.

But that needy thing inside of her won the battle again as she glanced over at the gate to the backyard, gnawing on her bottom lip before she pulled her phone out of her bag and instead brought up his contact.

The line rang five times before he answered, gruff voice echoing through the phone, the drone of music and chatter a little louder than could be heard from the front of the house.

"Miller construction, this is Joel."

"You really should get a phone with caller ID."

"Ruins the surprise," he said, voice a little lighter, like she could hear his smile through the phone, "you comin' over?"

"I'm standing in front of your door right now, no one answered," she said, still gnawing on her bottom lip as her eyes darted back and forth, from the backyard gate to the front door.

"Sorry honey, couldn't hear ya knock from back here, give me a minute, I'll be right there," he said, followed by the dull beep of the line getting cut off.