But It's Better If You Do || Brendon Urie|| EDITING IN PROGRESS

Chapter Twenty Six

Brendon speedily yanked his hand away from mine once tensions in the car flew up to unrealistic levels, causing me to drop my heavy jaw and look over at him in disbelief. He had never gained enough actual audacity to full-on-and-flat-out reject me like that, which made my stomach turn.

"Did you just-"

"Alex I can't..."

"Can't what? Can't hold my hand? All I'm trying to do is comfort you goddammit. You're so ungrateful it's truly sickening! Who the hell do you think you are B-"

His long, callused index finger was violently shoved deep into my soft lips, begging me with an earnest passion to just stop talking for awhile. Maybe this time it was best for me to do that. After all, making him angry wasn't exactly on my long list of things to do that day.

"Stop. Please."

"No goddammit I won't st-"

"ALEX, PLEASE," he hissed loudly in my face, finishing off the increment with one final breathy "please," as if it was his very last resort; his one final chance to force me to quit speaking before he completely let go and blew up...the last dangling thread of wondrous hope.

My dangling jaw clenched shut tight and everything went totally silent as his intense breathing pattern gradually slowed to a dull roar, thunderous now only in my mind. It was apparent in that moment that he wasn't down for taking any more of my verbal slinging, and I wasn't too fond of the idea of giving him any more anyway. I was mentally worn out beyond words. My head rested against the headrest and, for a small second only, I considered opening that car door and running off.

But one important thing compelled me to stay firmly seated where I sat. It was that beyond sad look painted across Brendon's face. If it hadn't been for that devastating, disconsolate look sprawled against his features, clashing violently against his archetypal untroubled countenance, I would have left right at that precise moment, but I didn't have the heart to leave him there that way...so cruelly. If I truly was going to up and leave, that would've been the very worst time to do it.

"Brendon can you at least tell me what's going on? I mean if you're going to refuse to hold my hand, I'd at least like to know why..."

His hand suddenly raised in an upward motion, resting limply on the back of his long neck as he shoved his face deeper into the steering wheel in which his forehead was perched. His face was noticeably scrunched up as it rested up against the cool leather steering wheel. I didn't want to prod or pry for any private information anymore, but whatever was upsetting him so greatly was also beginning to upset me. Head-pounding silence was followed by one simple softly spoken question:

"Do you know what it's like," he began with an edgy rasp to his voice, "to lose something you never thought you could live without?"

"Yes, of course. I mean honestly Brendon, come on now, doesn't everyone experience some form of loss at one point or another in their lives? Loss is a normal human issue, just like...I dunno...paying bills or going to work super early in the morning. It sucks, but it's normal to lose things that you love."

"...What have you lost?" he asked, a smirk dancing at the edges of his lips. He thought I was kidding around when I'd admitted to losing something important.

"My father," I replied very lowly and calmly, almost as a faint whisper. "He passed away when I was sixteen because of crippling stage four lung cancer." The words stung my eyes ruthlessly, making them become teary and clouded by miniscule, translucent water droplets. I tried my best to push the tears back. Discussing the sad topic of my deceased father was never -had never- been an easy task to do. It was inexplicably difficult, even at the ripe age of 22, to fully grasp the dreadful concept of death. It didn't take long for me to notice the mysterious disappearance of Brendon's smirk, alongside his prominent change in demeanor. Shoulders hunched over awkwardly at an uncomfortable angle, hair a total crazy auburn mess, back arched as if he was in deep major physical pain. That skeptical smirk was now replaced with a look of genuine regret...or maybe it was just sorrow, I couldn't tell.

"Oh. Sorry for bringing it up, Al. I really didn't mean to disrespect you or your father like that...I just..."

"It's okay Brendon," I argued softly with a fraudulent smile. "You didn't know. Not your fault."

My fragile, weak little hand desperately reached out in pursuit of his once again, but this time, he didn't even attempt to pull away or refuse, he simply took it in his as if he really wanted to hold my hand. I nearly called him out on it just to piss him off and let him know that I noticed it, but I wasn't feeling particularly cruel that evening, so I just let it linger in the air awhile then watched it dissipate into nothingness. That was probably a damn smart move on my part. Brendon shifted around uncomfortably a bit and eventually decided to rest his limp body up against mine so that all of his massive body -or muscle, technically- weight was being supported by my small frame.

This intimate situation reminded me of earlier that same day when we'd shared that sweet kiss alone in my bedroom before my mother so dutifully interrupted our pleasant reverie. Some promiscuous part of me -which I didn't even know existed until Brendon Urie waltzed along and mixed everything up without permission- wanted badly to continue on with that incredibly passionate kiss. I'd never felt anything more real...to be honest, I'm not even sure that I'd call it a kiss because it was more like a very strong physical connection...a newfound impermeable bond between us that couldn't help but to change things permanently. There was something about Brendon's kiss that could bring any girl running right back no matter what, an admirable quality for sure; one of his many exemplary traits. Something about that pure kiss made him just one cut above the rest. I hated it with a burning passion. I hated loving not only him as a human being, but I hated loving his kiss too. His touch. Every little cursed thing about that unbelievably unparalleled man enticed me to stay forever. Yes, it's true, Alexandria Payne was in love with Brendon Urie. How fucking lucky was I to have this?

From that moment on, when close friends would brag about their 'amazing' husbands or boyfriends, I'd just politely nod and laugh quietly in my head, because I knew that I had something so much better than they could ever dream up.

Well, he wasn't quite mine....

....yet....