Can't Afford To Lose Another Second With You (Scömìche)

Best Friends

I opened the door, expecting the mailman but what I saw made my heart stop.

"Scott? What the-"

The moment he pushed into the house past me I could smell heavy alcohol. Oh god.

"Scott, stop! What happened?"

He turned around and looked at me, pupils dilated widely. "I'm good," he slurred. "Kiss me."

I shook my head. "What?"

"Kiss me," he repeated, his voice urgent.

"What- no! I'm not going to."

"Why not?" he demanded. Under any other circumstances I would've been terrified, but Scott didn't look like someone who was drunkenly trying to break something. He looked more like he was just about to break down crying.

"I won't hurt you," I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

"But I want it!" he insisted. "I want you to kiss the hell out of me. It hurts so fucking much, Mitchy, make it stop. Fuck me, I don't even care." He couldn't keep a steady voice, it broke with every word and he was desperately trying to keep his tears from falling.

You could've stabbed me right then and there and it would've hurt less than his words. I shook my head.

"You're drunk," I just said and took his hand, leading him into the kitchen where I poured him a glass of water. "Here. Drink this."

Scott accepted and sat down at the table across from me. When he put the glass down he started crying harder.

I stood up and went to him, patting his back, unsure what I was supposed to do. I didn't want to see him like that, so broken and sad, but there was still this distance between us, so I didn't exactly know where the boundaries were. "Shh... Take a deep breath, okay? I'm here," I offered weakly. Obviously, this wasn't enough to make him stop crying but he nodded, trying to breathe steadily but it didn't work out so he just cried even more.

I couldn't look at him like that. I wanted to help.

"Shh... What's wrong, sweetheart?" I bit my lip. I didn't plan on calling him pet names, but it kind of just happened.

"I can't do this," he sobbed. "I'm a mess. I can't- I need you, Mitchy. I love you. Why won't you kiss me? You said you wanted to."

"Scott, look at me." I carefully lifted his chin up. "You are drunk and I'm not going to kiss you like that."

"I know it means nothing to you. I still want it," he sobbed.

"You would regret it tomorrow," I insisted, my heart breaking with every second. I wasn't going to give in. A kiss wasn't going to help. It would just break us apart for good. "Believe me."

"And if I still want it when I'm sober?"

"You won't. Besides, I promised you I wouldn't kiss you again."

As much as it hurt me to say it, I knew I had no other choice. No kisses. Never.

I loved kissing him, but that was the exact problem. I had taken advantage of him, causing us both to lose our minds. Now imagine I did it again. I shook my head to myself.

"Scott," I said, trying to sound stern even though I actually wanted to hug him tight and never let go. I wiped his tears with my thumbs and he locked his reddened eyes with mine.

"Huh?"

Another tear rolled down his face and I caught it.

"You need to calm down, okay?" I spoke with a softer voice now, "I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath..." I took a deep breath myself, demonstrating what I meant. He inhaled along with me. I deeply exhaled again, making him copy me.