We Were Blue // Completed

19//

"The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person."

-Chuck Palahniuk 

* * *

One.

Two.

Three.

I open my mouth to respond, but no words leave my lips. I just sit there gapping at him like a goddamn fool, but what the fuck do I say? He sounds enraged, a heated passion taking control of his body causing me to shrink away based on pure instinct.

He shouldn't care this much, he's only the brother of a boy I once loved. He's nothing else, he shouldn't be anything else, but God I think he might be. The anger is incredibly genuine and I can't help but think that Damon never got this mad about anything when it came to me. Would he have acted the same way if it were him in the driver's seat learning my biggest secret instead of Roman?

Yes. Or... or maybe no, but every part of my body itches to believe he would, itches to believe he's as good as I so desperately want him to be. Suddenly I'm pulled back to the present, when a pissed off Roman hits the gas with an intense force causing us to accelerate past the now green light.

A chuckle breaks through my lips, it's humorless and bitter even to my own ears. "I fucking wish I was kidding. I wish this was all one big fucking nightmare that I'll wake up from in a few hours. But it's not," It hits me that I'm not only talking about my mother, but everything in my life right now. I just want things to be better again; the confusion, the heartbreak- it's too much to deal with all the time.

But I don't say that as I place my elbow on the center council and lean my cheek against my palm. I don't say that because when everything was good Roman wasn't in my life, and I don't know if that's something I'd want to change. I twirl a piece of cocoa hair in between my fingers as I watch carefully for Roman's reaction.

Nothing. His features are blank, and it makes me uneasy because that's never a good sign when it comes to this boy. I can't see his eyes and I'm kind of happy about that, because if nothing else they would give away what he's thinking, and I'm not entirely sure I'd want to know.

"How the fuck do you expect me to bring you back to that fucking house after telling me that shit?" Funny how this seems to be affecting Roman more than me. But than again that's the thing about becoming so used to being treated like hell- after awhile it becomes nothing special, it's routine.

He finally turns his gaze to me and what I see makes the air rush from my lungs all at once. It's not the anger that leaves me feeling dazed but rather the pain lurking in the depths. It terrifies me, because to take on someone else's pain isn't something that he would do lightly. It's something I've only seen a few times in my life, and having someone care about me enough to do so leaves me on a edge.

One of us is going to get hurt, or both for that matter. Probably both.

It always works that way. Always has and always will. I don't want him to get hurt, he's stepping too close to the fire and if he's not careful he's bound to get burned. I've been in the middle of the flames enough times to not fear what is to come, but this time I'm afraid for Roman. I don't want scars to be left upon him because of me.

"I only told you because you asked," I shoot back. "I'm not some fucking damsel in distress that needs saving. I can handle it on my own," I don't like the direction this conversation is going, after all I have been dealing with this my whole life, less than a year more won't kill me. I always figure it out, and I know I'll be okay.