intoxicated i love you || xReader [SEQUEL] [COMPLETED]

twenty eight // starman - david bowie

Adrian

There wasn't enough time to react. Off somewhere, a boy with the same physical features as me was screaming as the dead body of a friend clashed to the floor like war. But all I felt was numb. my mind was blank and my conscience bland. The moment was so surreal, and I was still chasing after a deep spark in a mysterious girl's eyes. the thing was, the spark diminished long ago.

A pair of arms yanked at the hysterical boy's body, dragging him away from the scene. Suddenly Nico appeared, but all he did was stare at the motionless figure slumped against the bed. He dropped to his knees as if in a silent tribute to the fallen sister, and that was the moment my body and a sliver of my min was in sync. Before I knew it, the same burning rage that caused Mystery Girl's death consumed me again, and I was pummeling Nico's skinny body with fists of hatred. I wished he wouldn't have told me about the things he did, and it was even worse when I didn't know who to believe. I wished he never left her to a monster like me.

But most of all, I wished he could do something.

"You're a child of Hades, right?" I screeched with soon-bloodshot eyes. "Bring her back! Bring her back right now!"

Nico didn't budge. The thought of his immense guilt evidently barred on his shoulder was foreign to me, and I wanted him to look me in the eye.

He didn't, of course, and I grudgingly acknowledged the fact that it was my fault as well. I let go of Nico's oversized jacket and sank back against the same bed Mystery Girl leaned against. She sat to my left, and I fumbled to face her.

When I did, all I could do was cry at her presentation. She was dead. Truly dead. She saved my goddamn life, and now she was dead. She was dead because, somehow, she believed no one cared for her.

But we did! I care now, and gods I wish she was still alive. I'd kiss her, and hold her so close to me that when I grabbed her wrist, it would shatter into a million little beautiful pieces. But she was dead. Utterly dead.

It was my fault for not caring enough. For not holding her when I should have, for being an arrogant, selfish bastard.

But most of all, it was my fault for not having the capacity to love.

I looked at Nico in a different light. Maybe it was the illusion of morphine into my system, because the chill ease of the imaginary drug was forever familiar. Maybe I was losing my mind too, but I was shutting my heavy eyes to the solemn look Nico portrayed.

I didn't love her enough.

I couldn't love her enough.

And all of this -- all of this shit was my fault.