The Enemy Lives Next Door (bxb)

Part Twenty-One - Part Two

Part Twenty-One - Part Two

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"Dalley?"

My eyes snap open at the sound of Liam's voice. I gingerly stand up, the alcohol coursing through my veins as my head sways. But I manage to find my balance.

"What the fuck do you want?" I snap, glaring at him. "Here to fix your stupid best friend's problems?"

He steps into the room without permission, glancing at the broken glass scattered across the floor. "What happened?" he asks, concern lacing his voice. His umber eyes lock onto mine, searching for answers. "Have you been drinking?"

I throw my hands up in frustration. "What does it matter to you, fuckboy?" I retort, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "Isn't that what you are? You wanted my help to get with Lilly, well, the door's wide open!"

His hands rise defensively. "What? Dalley, how much have you had to drink? What happened on the date? Is everything alright?"

His eyes search mine, looking for clues, as he steps closer and pulls me into his arms. The tears continue to flow, pouring out like a river with no end.

"Dalley, you're not in the right headspace to be alone," he says, rubbing my arm soothingly. "I think it's best—"

I push him away, cutting him off. "What the fuck do you know about what's best for me?" I snap. "I don't even know why you're here. Get out before I do something I'll regret."

His eyes soften as he looks at me. "Dalley, come on. I'm here to help. At least let me be someone you can talk to."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to hold back the storm brewing inside me. "Please, just leave me alone. I swear, I'm going to punch you if you don't."

But he doesn't get the message. "Just tell me what happened," he presses. "Your eyes are super red and puffy. I can stay and help—"

A groan escapes me as I grab a fistful of my hair. He clearly wants it. I pull my arm back, curling my hand into a fist, and lunge forward, but he catches my hand effortlessly.

I yank my hand away. "I said leave! What don't you understand?" I shout, my voice cracking. "You want to fuck Lilly so bad you're even desperate enough to ask me for help? Well, she's all yours!"

Breathing heavily, I stumble back against the wall. I didn't mean what I said, but all the bottled-up emotions are spilling out like a flood.

Liam's jaw tightens, his expression hardening as he grits his teeth. "You don't mean that," he says quietly, pointing at me. "You really don't."

"Of course I do!" I shout back. "You're a manwhore, aren't you? So whip it out and go fuck everything that moves!"

His eyes glisten, and for a moment, I think he might actually cry. "I'll leave you alone," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "And for the record, I actually care about Lilly. I don't just want to fuck her. That's how little you know about me."

Briefly to glance at me. "And fuck you, by the way, for calling me desperate."

I collapse onto the floor again, my head spinning with the weight of it all. The anger, the hurt, and the alcohol mix into a heavy fog that clouds my thoughts. I want to scream, to throw something, but instead, I just sit there, feeling the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

Liam's voice calls, his tone softer this time. "Dalley?"

I don't respond. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the faint sounds from the house outside. Liam steps inside again, his expression cautious. He hesitates before speaking. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me. You need to let this out."

I don't look up, too exhausted to argue further. "I don't have anything else to say."

"Yes, you do," Liam insists. "You're pushing everyone away, but it's not going to fix anything. You're not alone, even if you feel like it."

The room feels colder now, and the silence between us is heavy with unspoken words. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, trying to avoid his concerned eyes. The remnants of our earlier argument hang in the air, a reminder of the anger and frustration I still feel.

"I just want to be alone," I mumble. "I need to sort through this by myself."

Liam's face softens with a mixture of frustration and empathy. "You're not going to sort this out alone. You need someone to help you through it. Even if you don't want it, it's okay to let people in."

I look at him finally, my vision blurred by tears. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because I do," Liam says firmly. "You might not see it now, but this is what friends do. We stick around even when it's tough."

I shake my head, feeling overwhelmed. "I'm not sure I can handle this right now."

"That's okay," Liam replies, stepping closer again. "You don't have to handle it alone. Just let me be here. Even if it's just to sit with you in silence."

His words are a small comfort amid the storm of my thoughts. I sit quietly as he remains in the room, his presence a steadying force. For now, the argument is over, but the hurt and confusion linger, unspoken and unresolved.

The silence stretches on, but it's different now. Less charged, more reflective. As Liam sits nearby, I slowly come to terms with the fact that the storm inside me isn't something I can face alone. His presence, though frustrating and confusing, is a reminder that I don't have to navigate this pain entirely on my own.

The room feels less like a prison and more like a space where I can start to confront my feelings. Liam's quiet support is a small but significant part of the journey I'm only beginning to understand.

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