a/n: i just got sick practically over night again (thanks to my sister smh) someone pls send a pharmacist, soup, n hugs omg
Troye's pov
"Got him... I'm dropping him off at the station and then I have to head back out. Chief's orders." Dad sighs through the speaker of my mobile while I about cry out in relief.
"Is he okay? Is he with you?" I question, sitting up on the sofa.
"Mhm, Bix, say something."
"Hmmm I am...... tired."
"Yeah he's fine, you can head over to the station now. He'll be there in about ten minutes." Dad murmurs.
I nod, "Alright. Thank you, I'll see you when you get home... I love you."
He hangs up shortly after. My tummy rumbles away, screaming at me for what I've done. The half empty pill bottle gives away just what it is I've done. I toss both of the bottles, the evidence, and run to the washroom, trying my best to throw up all I consumed. I dig my fingers down my throat until I trigger my gag reflex and throw up ickiness along with a dozen pills.
It leaves me feeling gross and sick but I don't let it stop me, no. I act as if nothing just happened, gripping the washroom counter and standing back up. I brush off my clothes and brush my teeth before slipping on shoes and heading out to get my boyfriend.
Shaking my arms and rubbing my eyes, I try to rid the drowsiness from my body as I make my way up to the station. I walk through the doors and up to the front desk, squinting my eyes a bit from the bright lights.
"Mellet, you know me. I'm here for Jacob Bixenman." I mumble to the lady.
"He's in the back all the way down, I'll have your dad sign all the paperwork when he gets back."
I nod and walk past to the hall leading to Jacob. I ignore the others staring at me, mumbling nonsense under their breath, and take the keys off of the shelf on the wall. Walking up to the cell, I see a just as tired looking Jacob staring up at the ceiling. I unlock the cell and move it open, making Jacob flinch and his head fall down. His strung out eyes turn to guilty and shameful ones in seconds as he sees me.
"Tro-"
"Come on," I mutter and point down the hall.
He frowns and stands up, trudging out of the cell. I set the keys down back where I found them and head out of the halls back outside. Jacob follows close behind, trying to keep up with me. I don't bother to say goodnight to the front desk lady, just waving at her and pacing out of the station.
"Troye." He speaks up once we get outside, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"You're drunk, Jacob, drunk. Look at yourself." I turn around and throw my hands up, pointing at his bloody and beaten body. I'm not even sure whose blood that is!
"I'm sorry, please, let me explain." He pleads.
I clench my jaw and shake my head, "I don't want to hear it right now."
And with that, I turn back to the street and make my way back to the flat. I try my best to ignore my vision clouding as Jacob stumbles his way behind me and keep a grip on walking in a straight line.
"You're- you're acting funny." He murmurs.
"You're drunk."
I hear him stumble back a bit, making me turn around to see the boy staggering in a swerve towards the cars passing by.
"Oi! Get your arse over here before you get ran over!" I yell.
He lets out a small 'oh' and walks over to me. He wraps an arm over my shoulder, forcing me to help him walk. It would be helpful if I could walk myself.
"Are you okay? I'm sorrrrrry." He slurs, leaning his head against mine.
"I-I'm fine," I whisper, turning down the street to the flat.
"You don't look fine, you're all pale 'n sick looking."
"I said I'm fine."
That's all that's spoken as we walk up the front steps of the flat and enter. I slip off my shoes while Jacob hops on one foot and pulls his off, nearly falling flat on his face. Wiping the sweat off of my forehead, I decide it's best to try and throw up the rest of my little mistake.
I place to the washroom while Jacob is far too invested in taking off his socks and shoes and lock the door behind me. Turning on the sink so he can't hear me, I get down on my knees and lift the toilet seat. I hurl up what I can manage to, making tears prick at my eyes and my belly feel ten kinds of messed up. Wiping my face and brushing my teeth again, I splash water on my face and unlock the door, opening it to reveal a concerned looking Jacob.
"Are you sick? Why are you throwing up?" He questions with teary eyes.
"I'm fine," I turn to our bedroom, him following close behind.
I open the door and close it behind me, locking him out.
"Troye..."
"Please don't do this."
"Don't shut me out, baby, please."
"Go to sleep, Jacob." I call through the door and lay down on the bed in defeat. My head sure does hurt. I don't bother cuddling under my blankie, no, I just lay there staring at my paintings until my eyes fall shut.
"Troye."
"Babyyyy."
"Please let me in."
"I need to know that you're alright."
"I'm sorry about pummelling your friend."
"And leaving and getting wasted."
"And getting in a street fight."
"And not being there for you."
"I'm sorry."
"Baby, you still awake?"
"I'm sorry."
Is this how Dylan felt the day he died?
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a/n: i sit here thinking "why do i do this to you guys?" and then i put you through more lmao. my apologies for the possible trauma and i'm always here if you want/need to talk. love u kiddos xx
