Nobody Said it was Easy // Taylor Caniff and Cameron Dallas

Icy Hot

HAHAHA enjoy the plot twist.

XOXO

-Layla

P.S. I've always loved the word breathe. It looks so elegant. Idunno, maybe its weird. I also love ae/ea instead of ee. They just nake words more... pleasurable to say. I actually repeat ea and ae in my head when I try to calm myself. I just love the way they sound and look. #itsawriterthingiguess

Not updating until 270 reads :*

Quinns POV

Dr. Elizabeth alway has a smile dancing on her red lips. She also flicks her long blonde curls over her shoulder when she speaks. Right now, DE is standing with her high heels crossed. She is saying, "I do believe that, given the circumstance, Quinn's heath could later result in emotional breakdowns, yes."

My father sits in an uncomfortable looking olive green chair with his hands over lapping in his lap. His dark hair is disheveled and he has on a navy sweater and jeans. He asks, "But how long until this will be a possibility?"

"Well, it is currently a possibility. It is best to be gentle, for any small detail could result in extreme emotional reactions on her part."

My father puts his head in his hands. "Thank you, Dr. Elizabeth."

"It is my job." With that, she pivots on her heel and clicks out of the room.

•••••

Taylors POV

Today is the day I go home and see Quinn. I hope to god she's okay. I just.. every time her name runs across my mind, I just.. envision her kneeling and howling in pure agony and me just standing there like a helpless a-hole. White flashes of hatred accompany these thoughts. Hatred for myself for not doing anything, hatred for myself for staying in Florida instead of going back with her. I know its just a normal illness like influenza or something, but.. I dunno, I feel like I'm a bad boyfriend for not being there after everything shes been through. Though to be real, I'm scared. I don't know what to expect.

I take a deep breath and look out the window at the tiny signs of civilization way below us.

Stop worrying, Taylor. Shes probably at home with her dad watching bad reality TV. You have nothing to worry about. Shes okay.

For some reason, I still feel like it isn't.

•••••

The familiar scent of my car envelops me in comfort. I missed being here. It provides an air of comfort I can't find other places. It also reminds me of all the happy moments I've had with Quinn...

Speaking of which, I just arrived at my place. I hop out of the car with my things and sprint inside. I call out, "Quinn!" but then it hits me. Duh. She wouldn't want to stay here all alone, shes probably at her house. I put my clothes away and return to the car.

When I get to Quinn's, no cars are there. Hmm. Thats odd. I pick my phone out of my pocket at call her. She answers on the 3rd ring.

She asks in a weak voice, "Hello?"

"Oh- right- I forgot you were sick. Hows it going? Are you okay? Where are you?"

I hear a cough. "Um.. Its going.. okay? Yeah. I guess I'm okay. Don't freak out, but I'm at the hospital please don't freak out just come to Saints room 613 6th floor let me explain don't say anything yet I love you goodbye, Taylor." Then the phone clicked off and I was racing through the streets, icy hot fear slicing through me.

Quinn's POV

One. Two. Three.

The seconds count down until I'll have to spill my heart out. I will have to tell him. Everything. I just don't know how he'll react...

I grip the thin cotton sheet covering my body and look out the large window. The sky remains calm, deep and dark. Its 5:00... somewhere. Here, its about 9:30. The sun is hidden on the other side of the world. I wish I could be like the sun. I wish I could run away when things get tough and hide from everyone. Sadly, I am not the sun.

Since I'm not the sun, Taylor walks in and gasps. His car keys falling to the ground. After standing there for what feels like forever, he slowly regains his composure and rushes to kneel beside me. He stutters, "Wha-wha-how-are y-you ok-kay?"

I give him a reassuring smile. I imagine me telling him that I'm going to die will be similar to when I found out my mother is a complete failure. I mean, its the same thing right? She's dead to me. I'll be dead to him. Just, my death will be literal. Will I be able to deliver this news without crying? Probably not. "Taylor... I missed you. And I love you. Try to listen before you interrupt or start bawling or have an aneurysm or however you handle this type of stuff. Okay, so. This is harder than I thought..." I laugh without humor. One of those frustrated laughs, you know? "I-okay-I'm going to be blunt. I have a screwed up brain, Taylor. One of those big old c-cancer tumors," by now, I was crying and doing that non laugh thing hysterically. I finish through sobs, "The-ones that-come and-t-take your life-aw-away. T-taylor, I'm-dying."

My heart has been ripped out by wolves. This was one of those moments where you want to shrivel up and die from pain and heart ache. You never forget these moments. The moments where the love of your life is looking at you like he doesn't know you. Where he stumbles backward because he doesn't want to be near a dying girl, it might be contagious. The look of repulsion and agony painted on his beautiful face. You never forget how he looks at you when he looks afraid of you. Well, its not his fault, really. I'm the one with the untreatable poison in my body.

Who wants to date a girl your going to lose? Might as well get used to the pain now. I'm sure he would rather cry now while he's alone than at my funeral in front of everyone. That would be terrible. How embarrassing for him. Guys don't cry. He has an image to uphold. The sad part is that I'm so in love with him that I can't even hate him for not explaining his actions. I cling to the hope those reactions are just fear, and not lack of love, but I don't think they are. I think I lost the only thing keeping me sane.

Tears are streaming down my face. I curl up for what seems like hours, though I know its only been a few minutes. When I finally manage to clear my eyes of tears enough to see, I look up. Taylor sits in the uncomfortable chair with his face in his hands. His elbows rest on his jean covered legs. His shoulders shake, bare from the tie die muscle shirt he wears. At first, I think he's laughing. Then a sob escapes and I can't hide my surprise. When I finally recover, I whisper, in a hoarse voice from crying, "T-Taylor?"

He slowly lifts his head. He has tear streaked, wet cheeks. I look into those deep hazel eyes, bloodshot and wet as they are, and instantly soften. The only thing keeping me from running to him to comfort him are the tubes up my arm. He just looks so defeated. He manages to choke out, "I'm sorry, Q. I just didn't know how to react I didn't know what would happen I don't know anything! I can't take it! I won't take it! It isn't fair! This shouldn't happen to you we had so many adventures and I love you I don't.... I don't want to lose you...." He unsteadily rises. When he makes his way to me, he kneels down so my head is above his. He continues, "I'm sorry I reacted that way. It was stupid. I was stupid. I'm just afraid. Afraid of losing you, afraid of being left alone, and, most of all, afraid for you. You shouldn't have to do this. It shouldn't be you. Its not fair." He buries his face in the sheets and starts sobbing again. I lean down and stroke his hair, whispering 'shh' and 'it's okay'. Once he calms down a little, I murmur, my lips against his head, "Life isn't fair. Plus, someone has to lose the battle."

Footsteps disrupt the silence. Taylor and I glance up and our eyes widen.

Cameron stands there, hands curled into fists. His lips are pressed into a tight line and his hair sticks to his face from the rain. He pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes deeply. He moved his hands to his hair, like he wants to rip it out. He asks in a strained voice, "So its true then?"