Why Don't You Just Kiss Me Then.

Chest Pains

Heartbroken. . .
I woke up when the bed dipped under someone else's weight. I refused to move at first, too wrapped in the comforts of sleep to be bothered, but then I remembered. Last night.
I opened my eyes a bit and looked over to see Thomas sitting, with his back to me, on the opposite side of his bed. I watched him suspiciously as he changed his shirt (don't give me that look, what is he doing?! I must know) and got up, closing my eyes softly as he turned to look at me. I heard him lean over the bed towards me, and my muscles tensed beneath the sheets.
"I'm so sorry, Amabel." His breath tickled my cheek as he hovered above me, brushing a hair out of my face. Then he was gone, his warmth, his breath, his effect. I opened my eyes again carefully to see him grabbing his jacket, and I know that I have to say something.
"Don't, Thomas." I say softly, sitting up. He turns to look at me, suprised brown eyes widening.
"You're not getting out of this that easily." He sighed, taking off his jacket and setting it back on the coat hanger. He sat on the bed beside me, hiding his face in his hands for a second before looking back at me.
"How's the hangover?" I ask solemnly.
"Great, thanks." He says sarcastically. I sigh and search his eyes as he looks down, ashamed of himself.
"Why. . . did you do that, Thomas?" He refuses to meet my gaze.
"It was an accident. I am so sorry, Amabel. You know that I would never deliberately hurt you or your aunt." He looks up now, and I can see the hurt in his eyes.
"Me? What does this have to do with me, Thomas? This has everything to do with Aunt Evie, why are you bringing me into this?" I ask, venom beginning to sneak into my words as I stand up.
"And how can you call this an accident? You went out and got drunk, Thomas, even though you knew about my uncle. If Evie knew about this, it would break her heart, you know that. There is no excuse for this, Thomas. None at all. What, did Lilia get you drunk? Did she kidnap you after you kissed and force you to drink shots until three in the morning?" I spat at him, not caring about his sad eyes or his regret. The pain in my chest was hurting too much now, the betrayal I felt was more than just anger. It was heartbreak.
"Amabel. . . I-I'm sorry about Lilia. . . I wasn't thinking, I-"
"So it was her, then?" I ask sarcastically, knowing that she wouldn't do something like that.
"No, Amabel! She didn't get me drunk, but I kissed her. And. . . that was wrong of me. I'm sorry." I felt tears welling in my eyes, I tried desperately to stop them, but to no avail.
"I don't care about who you kiss Thomas."
"Amabel, come on-"
"No! Thomas, I. . . I can't care." I look down at the ground, realizing what I just said.
"Don't tell Evie about this. And if your smart, Thomas, you won't try to find me." I say, rushing out the door and taking his jacket in the process, grabbing my phone before leaving the house.

I am so, so, sososososo sorry.
Have a great whatever you're having (day, night, cheeseburger).
Byeee.