Misery Business (Sequel to Never Let This Go) *Paramore*

Chapter Seven: Heat of the Moment

Hayley's P.O.V.

I wake up with a killer headache and confusion. The alarm clock clearly states that it's 4:49 in the afternoon, and I realize I have a hangover. I remember the text I got, and the bottle of vodka. I really took that seriously, didn't I? I wonder what happened when I was drunk so I start to get up just to realize I'm half naked. I swear if I did it with anyone I'm going to strangle not only them, but whichever person sent that text. I don't care who they are.

Once up, I throw my clothes back on and walk downstairs to find the Advil rubbing my head. The bottle of vodka is gone, and there is a curly dork sitting on my couch. Okay, if I had sex with Taylor someone is going to get hurt. That is too confusing, doing it when you're drunk and avoiding each other when you're sober. "You're up," he says standing up and turning the TV off.

"Why are you here?" I ask him going into the bathroom to get the Advil. I take two tablets out and put the bottle away, walking into the kitchen.

"I got a text from 'You Know Who' telling me to find you and found a drunk Hayley. I couldn't just leave you, you were practically tripping over nothing," he explains as I pour a glass of water and down the pills.

"You should've let me," I tell him drinking more of the water.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asks me standing just a few feet away.

"I don't know, two days ago?" I respond trying not to sound like a complete idiot. It didn't work though, I can tell I sound like the biggest idiot that there is.

"Can you please eat something?" he asks me kindly. I can't let him phase me though, so I just sigh.

"I'm not hungry," I tell him. I mean, it's the half truth. I don't feel hungry because my stomach is growling or anything, it just feels numb. I know that the only reason for this though, is that I've been hungry for too long.

"I know you're hungry Hayley," he tells me. "Can we talk? Just as...as friends?" I sigh and sit down at the island counter and so does Taylor. "Why don't you want to eat anything?"

"I-I don't know," I tell him honestly. I couldn't lie about this to Taylor. Not about health.

"Is that really it? You don't know, or you just don't feel the need to?"

"I haven't felt the need or desire to eat anything since I was staying at your house a couple months back," I explain being completely honest with him. "I don't know why...I just- I want to sit around and do nothing all the time," Yeah, Hayley, because you're depressed. "Can I ask you something? What happened when I was...drunk?"

"I know what you're thinking and trust me when I say I didn't let it get very far. What happened was you kept saying...random things. Eventually you gave in when I said that you should rest, and so you started stripped down. I turned around because I knew how you would react sober," Taylor explains. That is honestly the most loyal thing anyone has ever done for me. He showed such empathy just because I got drunk and truly did something no other man would do. "I saw a little bit of you're stomach though, and you're scary skinny, Hayley," 

"No I'm not, but thank you for doing what you did," I say quietly.

"Can I ask you something really...personal? You don't have to answer if you don't to," he asks me calmly. I nod yes, just because he was kind to me earlier. "Earlier today, when you were drunk, you mentioned something really serious. You said something about you..." he stops for a moment to wipe a single tear away. "You mentioned how it felt when you self harmed," When he says these words, my stomach drops and I am speechless. I can only choke out a few words.

"What did I say?" I ask him barely audible.

"You said when you did it, when you cut, the blood was like all of your problems escaping your body, and that even if you didn't find relief right away, you would do it again and again until you did. You said the blood was beautiful to you," he says letting another tear fall. I look down at my lap ashamed at what I told this innocent man. He seems so hurt by it that it hurts me.

"Taylor, I have to tell you something. As a friend. You are one of the strongest men I know, you can do anything you set your mind to. The thing is, is that I can't do that. I have to let it out somehow and my way of doing that is watching that blood pour down my wrist. I hate that I said that to you, because honestly Taylor, you deserve so much better. You deserve someone who can make you smile, and someone who can go out and eat way too much food. You don't deserve anything less. Even talking to someone like me can be a danger to your happiness, so why ever I was wanted drunk, it probably worked. It's destroying you and I can't handle it," I say honestly.

As I let a tear of my own slip, I pull Taylor into a long hug, burying my face in his shoulder. A hug best friends would give each other. Eventually he pulls away, and I wipe his tear away. "You are the only person that can make me smile, Hayley, I don't want anyone else," he whispers.

 "Taylor, do you see yourself? You can't want to be with me, all I am doing is breaking you into the millions of pieces that I can't stand having to watch drop,"

"No, you're not destroying me at all. The only thing destroying me is not being with you," he tries to explain. "I don't want you to hurt anymore," He is making this extremely hard for me not to just lean over and kiss the heck out of him. In the heat of the moment, I can't help but do so. I pull him into a passionate kiss and cry into it. The same exact butterflies get caught in my stomach and I pull away for air, not quite thinking. Taylor looks completely shocked, but my tear stained face doesn't care, because I pull him in again, this time begging for him to let my tongue in. He allows it.

As we fight for dominance, I loose track of which tongue is mine. I'm now sitting on the counter, Taylor's arms round me tight, and my legs around him. I can't think of anything but his name at this point. Taylor, Taylor, Taylor. My hands are tangled in his hair and I can feel him smiling into the kiss. Or, well, full blown make out session, really.

I only realize what I'm doing after I pull away for air for the third time. My eyes widen and Taylor looks completely confused toward me. "That was wrong," I whisper jumping off of the counter. "That was too wrong," I feel like my actions were wrong, but at the same time, that kiss didn't feel wrong at all. It felt so right, and I know deep down I want more of it.

"You keep giving me false hope," he whispers stepping back a little, and my hangover catching up with me.

"I'm so sorry," I say, yet another tear falling. "I'm so so sorry I did that. It's my fault," I step back as if he is angry with me, to where the stove is, and I lay my hand down just to realize it was recently on and burning hot. I let out a scream and more tears rush out and I hold my hand where it got burnt. Taylor helps me sit down and he gets a wet towel to put on it while it starts to bleed like no ones business.

"Taylor go home, please just leave," I tell him through tears as he helps me cool down the skin.

"I'm not going anywhere, you need to get this checked," he explains to me in a somewhat serious tone.

"It's nothing important, really, I'll be fine, I promise. Please just leave," I ask of him even though I know he won't listen.

"Not only do you have a hangover now, but a burn. You need to get this checked as soon as possible and get rest,"

"Did you use the stove?" I ask Taylor curiously as to why I got burnt in the first place.

"No," he responds with a shaky voice. That only means one thing. A breaking and entering and to add to the fun, a wound that prevents me from getting Taylor to leave. This was no amateur, this was the work of Angela and her men.

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Sometimes I want to include some Tayley, but then realize it's been a couple days since they broke up. This is the product of that.