The Mighty Fall In Love

Chapter Eighteen

A/N

heyoooo!

ok guys it's been too long and i'm sorry! i've been busy with school, but look, finally, 2 new chapters! :)))

hope you enjoy! thanks again for all the love, support, and reads; it means so much to me!!

ily xxxxxxxxx☺☺

((ps this story may or may not be coming to a closeee...!))

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN




He just needs some time to himself, I tell myself for the umpteenth time.




Pete just needs some time to figure out what we've both done and what we both want. He just needs to mull this over, but everything will be okay. Probably.




Okay, maybe not. Maybe I really did fuck everything up. Nothing's ever perfect, and hopefully he'll realize this. I made a mistake. But that doesn't mean everything is ruined.




He's hiding from me; holing up in his bunk of the time, hoodie pulled over his head, drawstrings pulled tight, ear buds in and blearing loud. He never looks up at me when I go into the bunkroom every now and again to grab something. I mostly lay on the couch, listening to the vibration of the moving vehicle, over thinking thought after thought.




We've been driving for more than 24 hours straight, needing to get from San Francisco to Texas in time for our next show tomorrow night. Pete hasn't said a word to me and I'm not sure how much longer I can take this.




Sure, we've had our fights - especially when it came to writing music on Take This To Your Grave - but nothing ever felt this personal. I know he's mad at me know for cheating, not for scraping his ideas, and it's a different feeling than the one I've gotten used to all those years ago. Not only that, but he never went out of his way to avoid me. He'd just come and go like usual but would always be pissed off. But not this time. His silence is deafening.




I don't know how to make Pete forgive me. Normally, I'd finally just cave and throw together whatever he wanted, and somehow it always turned out okay. Never perfect, but a little broken and battered, which is how we used to like it back in the simpler days. He'd smile at me from across the table, his eyes dazzling, whispering, "This is why I keep you," at the sound of whatever poetic lyrics he had written mixed with my music.




This time is different. He's mad at me because of the person I am and how I hurt him. It's horrible and I wish it never happened, but it did. We just have to kiss and make up; and then move forward with the rest of our glorious lives, together.




I know Pete is who I want to share my life with. I know he's the one who makes me happy and whenever I look at him I just know. His voice makes my head spin and the way his eyes look into mine so deeply make me melt. I know that when he used to pep talk me before going out to play our first shows the butterflies in my stomach weren't just from the roaring crowd we'd hear from the side of the stage, but because of his proximity. I know when I wake up in a tangled heap of our limbs I wake up happy. I trust him more than I trust myself and when his lips press against mine my heart skips two beats because I can never believe I got as lucky as I

did.




But I've lost all of that because I was a reckless idiot.




Suddenly, like a bullet, it hits me that I can't wait any longer. I need him to forgive me now or I'll explode; a time bomb of self loathing and self pity.




He's my better half and I need him.




Right then and there, I decide what has to be done and that I can't wait any longer.




I stand up from the couch and make a bee line to the bunkroom, and all the way there I can feel Joe and Andy's gaze follow my quick moving figure towards the back of the bus.




"Good luck," I hear them both whisper in unison as my hand reaches the doorknob.




I take a deep breath and try to compose myself before the handle twists beneath my hand and the door is pulled open, without me turning it.




"P-Pete," I stammer, looking into his deep brown eyes which squint in confusion.




"Hi," he answers, backing away from the door.




Fuck, this may be harder than I thought.