As I lie in bed, all I can think about is myself. I don't know what to do. I've been thinking about it all day, the medication helped me out of whatever was coming this morning, but not the rest of the day. I roll over, looking at the space that Pete lies in, or did anyways. I'm pretty sure he crashed on the couch. I rub my face. It was not right of me to just leave him, but I know I need it, as much as I want him.
I check the time- 2:46am. The thought of today is grueling. I want to sing, I want to make people happy, I really do, but I just am so overwhelmed with the thought of me being a part of a band and people depending on me. Look what happened when I broke my glasses- I couldn't handle it, and Pete helped me get through that. The ordeal involving Leah, Pete prevented me from suicide. I'm so scared of my depression and anxiety getting in the way of my life. I can't handle it on my own. And I know I should be with Pete, but I just need some time to myself.
Or do I?
With that thought, I stand up shakily, slowly making my way towards the couch that bears Pete's shape on top of it underneath the maroon blanket I got from him the day he asked me out. A couple tears spring into my eyes and I just stand there for a bit, silently watching him, wondering what's wrong with me, and why he's stayed by my side this whole time, when I'm nothing but a mess. I distanced myself from him thinking it would be for the best, but is it really? I know I need time to think about what is going on in my life but Pete is the only one who actually listens so why am I separating myself from him? Because I don't know what to do. I just don't know.
I must've been making some noise while I was crying because I watch blindly as Pete stands up, turning to face me. Even in the dark I can see the hurt I've inflicted onto him.
I've rejected him.
And I feel awful about it.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, staring at him, not knowing what to do. I don't really expect an answer.
So I'm surprised when I get one.
"It's okay," Pete whispers back, walking over to me slowly, wrapping his arms around my torso, resting his forehead against mine, "I don't know what you're going through, I've never had depression, but I know it must be pretty damn rough. I want you to know I'm here for you, okay?"
I close my eyes and press my lips to his, receiving a passionate kiss back. He runs his tongue through my mouth then kisses my jawline multiple times. I sigh, tangling my hands through his hair, resting my head onto his shoulder. He pulls me into a tight hug and I can feel his heartbeat. We stand like that for a while until he carries me to our bed and we lie down, looking at each other.
"I'm sorry," I say again, running my thumb over his lips, staring at them.
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Pete mumbles. I watch him take in the features of my face and smile when they rest on my lips.
"You're cute, Wentz."
"Look who's talking," Pete grins. Everytime I see that grin I feel like I can do anything and that everything will be okay. It just makes me happy.
I blush and lean in for another kiss, this time sliding my tongue around his. He kisses me back, pulling me closer and holding my head close to his. I close my eyes and relish the moment. I forget about everything- my parents, the band, depression, anxiety- everything. It's in this moment that I feel like I can actually do something, whether it's singing in the band or just continuing to serve people at the café.
Pete pulls back after a couple minutes breathing slightly hard, "It's been what . . . about three months now?"
"Something like that," I whisper, staring at his eyes.
"So now is a good time to tell you that I love you?"
"Anytime is a good time," I grin, leaning in to kiss him again.
He runs his hand underneath the back of my shirt, sending chills down my spine. I shiver and he smiles against my lips before leaving them to trail kisses down my neck. Pete kisses a certain point underneath my jaw and I can't help but giggle like a girl getting presents for her birthday. He laughs, pursuing to kissing my lips again.
-
"Hey, Elizabeth, can I take off work today? I'm not feeling too well," I say into the phone, cleaning off my glasses lenses.
"Yeah, sure, you've worked long enough to have a break for now," She responds cheerfully, "Feel better soon! Will you be able to make it tomorrow?"
"I should be, my throat just hurts a bit," I smile at myself, Yeah it hurts, but not on the inside.
"Okay, cool, see you tomorrow then!"
After I hang up I pull on a black and white patterned t-shirt and my maroon sweater overtop. I also place my fedora on top of my head, then slip on my pair of combat boots. I walk to the guitar shop by myself because Pete left for work this morning. I'm hoping the hickey he left near my collarbone doesn't show too much.
Once I walk inside, Andy stifles a laugh, "You and Pete have some fun last night?"
My face burns, "Maybe." I smile a bit then walk to the back room into the bathroom, examining the purplish spot. I don't know how to cover it up. For now I just pull my sweater overtop, then go find Pete to help me out. I find him helping a kid try out a purple bass and once he turns around he blushes tremendously.
"You need some help with that?" Pete whispers once he walks up to me.
"Just a little," I smile, looking at my shoes.
- we do it in the dark with smiles on our faces we're trapped and well concealed in secret places we don't fight fair
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