Hearts broken; words left unspoken.

Chapter two.

When I woke up the sky was still a murky grey, the sun still drowsy from its nightly rest. I rubbed my eyes for a moment, massaging my neck that was sore from me sleeping on the couch. Why the hell was I on the couch again?

Oh yeah. She was here, and she's on my bed. I sat up on the sofa and ran a hand through my hair, yawning. I probably shouldn't be too loud - it was very early. I've always woken up early. It was a habit from the years when I still went to school, waking up at like six in the morning. I slept late and woke up early, probably why I was tired three out of four days.

I yawned again and got up. I put on my glasses and looked at my bookshelf. I would watch a show on the computer but my headphones were in the car and I didn't want to wake her up. She had a rough day yesterday.

I spent the next two hours reading through one of my old drafts. Realizing that she was about to wake up soon, I decided to make some breakfast. I was getting hungry, too.

Sure enough, she woke up just as I was halfway through frying the eggs.

"Morning sleepyhead," I called out, hearing her stumble into the kitchen with a series of sleepy murmurs.

"What's for breakfast?" she asked and slumped down at the table, her head making a soft thump when it made contact with the wood.

"Eggs and toast." I gestured with my free hand towards the toaster and the plate of bacon that was already fried.

"Coffee?"

"Make it yourself.”

My only reply was a bit of grumbling and the sound of the chair scraping against the tiled floor.

"Good girl."

"Fuck you."

I chuckled.

We were sitting at the table in relative silence. She was engrossed in her own food and I was checking stuff on my phone. The usual, Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter, until she broke the silence.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

"You know, about last night ..."

"I know, I know. You were down and I was there so."

I answered without looking at her, but I knew that she was frowning.

"I'm sorry.” A hand reached over and I felt it placed over mine.

I moved it away as inconspicuously as possible.

"It's alright. I'm pretty used to it." I smiled at her sheepishly with an award shrug. That wasn't the truth. I wasn't used to it. Frankly I had been hoping that she meant what she had said yesterday. That this was the start of a relationship. Our relationship. Something that I wanted. Something that we both probably wanted.

We went back to eating in relative silence, but this time I was the one who spoke first. Curiosity got the better of me.

"Did you mean what you said yesterday? About how ..." I trailed off, leaving her to fill in the rest of the sentence. I was sure she knew what I was talking about.

She thought over her words for a moment, poking at her scrambled eggs with a fork before she spoke. "Yeah. I did. But ... We've known each other for so long. We know so much about each other and," she paused for a moment. "It'd be weird to start now."

I sighed and said nothing. Nothing I said could change things now and it'll just make me look like I was trying far too hard. I wanted her. I've wanted her for the past what, ten, twenty years? Even when I dated the rare girl, there had always been something missing in those relationships. I just couldn't love that girl the way I loved her. I tried. I tried but I just couldn't. There was simply no way.

Her phone rang for a moment and she picked it up immediately. There was a momentary silence before I looked up and saw a big smile on her face. "I'll be there in twenty," she said, and shut her phone.

"He says he's sorry and he wants me back."

There was a wide smile on her face and I could feel a sinking pit forming in my chest. No! That was what I was screaming inside. No. You shouldn't go back to him. If it’s happened once it'll happen again. I wanted to tell her that and I wanted to keep her here. With me. Where she belonged. Where she could be happy.

But I didn't.

All I did was force a smile and nod. I wanted to congratulate her and tell her I was happy for her or something but I couldn't get the words out. I couldn't lie to her like that.

"You understand, right?" She shot me an apologetic look, gesturing to her unfinished breakfast.

"Go. And be happy," I lied. It was obvious on my face. I wasn't that good a liar when it came to my feelings but she was too happy to notice.

"You're the best." She got up. She was almost out of the kitchen before she turned around and asked, "You'll be alright, right?"

Not without you here, I thought.

"Clock is ticking." 

I forced another smile and she left, the door slamming shut behind her. I looked at the food on my plate and shook my head. I had lost my appetite. I cleared the dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

I was about to get a beer - it seemed appropriate even though it was nine in the morning, but I realized that I needed something stronger. Instead I took the bottle of Scotch she got me for Christmas last year out of the cabinet above the fridge.

I set the alcohol down on my coffee table and closed off the blinds. I felt far too melancholicfor sunlight.

I settled down in my armchair and I took a large gulp of the Scotch, feeling the fiery liquid burn its way down my throat. It wasn't pleasant. But I felt better.

I glanced up at my mantelpiece. There were a few photos of us. Not many, considering our long years of friendship.

"I'm just not that boy," I murmured to no one in particular. I sighed and laid my head back.

Never was. Never will be.