Damaged » h. styles au

Chapter 48 - Kirsten

Got a bit carried away, I'm sorry :S

                                                                  48.  

                                                           ●•Kirsten•●

"You do know it’s a mother-son-like relationship, right?” he asked occasionally, completely out of the blue. Confused, I couldn’t help but frown at him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked with a mouthful of pasta, choking as soon as I decided to talk while chewing. Note to self: “do not talk with your mouth full”. That makes sense now.

“I mean…” Styles shrugged, curling his fork on the plate and taking the food to his mouth. “…you and Tyler. It’s a mother-son-like relationship. You take care of him, and the house, and he does nothing but ask you to do things for him. To him.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about him tonight,” I replied instead, not really wanting to get into the details of my relationship with Tyler. But mostly, trying not to agree with Styles, ‘cause… Well, it wasn’t true at all, was it? I don’t really think mother and son would do some of the things we do. That’d be inappropriate.

“I’m sorry, I just… I was thinking, you know? He’s so lazy and you have to deal with all his sh–t. It’s not like a marriage – or whatever you call this long-term relationship – at all. Even being so long together, he does not give a single sh–t about all your efforts. And I bet he complains when you forget doing something.”

“How’re you supposed to know that?” I raised an eyebrow, hardly trying to find out how much of me I’d showed to him. I couldn’t have exposed so much of Tyler for him to form theories like those, could I? Maybe I’m crossing my own line. This is going way too far.

Styles shrugged again, and I let it drop. After all, crossing lines or not, I had agreed not to fight him anymore. Of course I’m aware it’s the lowest thing I’ve ever done (almost that); of course I feel guilty for doing what I’m doing, I feel dirty, I feel disgusting, but I also feel freer. I can’t bear the thought of completely pushing curly away, ‘cause there’s a slight possibility I’m too attached to him already. There’s a slight possibility I like the way he keeps shamelessly flirting with me, pecking my lips unexpectedly, just staring at me in sheer admiration. There’s this slight possibility he makes me feel like I can act without fearing my actions. And for a brief moment I allow myself to think how would it be if I actually was in a relationship with him.

I regret even the thought of it, but I don’t deny I want it. I can’t deny it. There’s this part of me that wants to find out how it feels like to be in a relationship where you’re not the only one carrying all the weight over your shoulders. I know I’m not worthy of having such a thing, but I wouldn’t bother having a taste. A sweet taste of another side of ‘love’. Because the bitter part where people say you ‘need to give yourself over to someone’ so you can make things work it’s pretty known by me. That’s all I do. I only give. And just now I realized how exhausting it is.

With Styles it’s the opposite. He’s the one giving, looking at me as if I was the love of his life. Not that I doubt I’m Tyler’s, but what’s between us is sort of an obligation, almost. We’re together because, yes, we care a lot about each other; we need each other, we handle each other… But… I guess it’s not the kind of teenage love where you feel butterflies all over your stomach and all those things that make your head spin like crazy. Maybe it’s because life gave its hardest to us, maybe we grew up too fast, but our love is not like that. Our love has all the caring, all the concern, the preoccupation, the urge and the need to make each other happy (the happiest we can be considering the lives we have), but… We’re lacking the love. That thing of needing to be next to each other; that feeling inside that makes you satisfied from just being with the one you love. Well, Tyler and I certainly enjoy all the cuddles, and I do appreciate the moments when he’s all sweet and needy, but it still feels like incomplete. Like it’s just something brief that will soon go away to be replaced by anger and frustration, ‘cause basically, our whole life all goes down to this: frustration.