Ready For Love : Tyler Seguin Fan Fiction

I always think about him

I wake up in the morning head pounding, mouth dry, feeling nauseous. Why oh why did I drink so much last night? Sure, I had a good time, from what I could remember anyway, but is feeling like this worth it? I moan in pain as I roll onto my side and reach over to the bedside table to grab my phone. It's not there. I squint as I try to open my eyes. Where could it be? I look under the blanket and all around me in the bed. I look on the floor. It's nowhere. Where could I have left it last night?

"What are you looking for?" Harold asks. I jump up startled, I didn't realize he's been watching me.

"My phone. Do you know where I put it last night?" I reply as I sit up and lean my back against the headboard,

He laughs. I look at him confused. What's funny about that? He reads my expression and the smile on his face fades away. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Uh, yeah."

"You don't remember anything from last night?" he continues to question.

"Not everything." Now I'm starting to worry. What did I do last night?

"So you don't remember smashing your phone on the floor of the balcony?"

My eyes go wide. "Oh my god, no I don't. Why would I do that?" He sighs and looks down at the floor. "Tell me."

He looks up and right into my eyes. "You fought with Tyler last night."

"Oh." I stare forward for a beat, trying to remember. It's all a little fuzzy after we got in the taxi to come back to the room. Then it hits me like a punch in the stomach. I remember. I remember how much of a bitch I was to him. I can't believe I acted like that. Why couldn't I have just left it alone?

"You ok?"

"I think I'm gonna be sick." I'm not saying it as the expression. I really feel like I am about to throw up. I run into the bathroom, kneel on the floor, and let the contents of my stomach empty out into the toilet bowl.

"This is partially my fault," Harold says. I look back over my shoulder at him. He's standing in the doorway, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have had so much to drink."

I stand up, flush the toilet, walk over to the sink, and grab my toothbrush and toothpaste. "It's not. Don't worry about it." I squirt toothpaste on my toothbrush and brush my teeth. I brush my tongue to try to get the vomit taste out of my mouth. "He's right, you know, I am stubborn."

"I'm not going to act like that's a foreign concept." He chuckles.

I look up at his reflection in the mirror and smile. He smiles back. "But mostly I'm scared."

"I don't know why. If any two people in this world belong together it's the two of you."

"I know that I'm a workaholic and up to this point in my life I've put my passions and my career ahead of everything else but he's always been number one to me, even when we were just friends. I'm afraid I'll always be second to him. I'm terrified of losing him again." He shakes his head at me and I turn around, lean up against the counter and cross my arms over my chest, mimicking him. "What?"

"You've always been first to him. From what you've told me anyway. Of course I don't know everything that has gone on between you two but I'm not blind. The way he looks at you, if I didn't have a clue what love was I would know just by seeing the way he looks at you. You have to let go of what happened. He has more than made up for it. Just be happy."

"I want to. I really do. Then I get all these doubts in my head and I start to freak out."

"Acting like this is going to make you lose him again, if anything. A guy can only take so much. He isn't perfect but he really is trying."