home to you: a blackbear fanfiction

the fight & the makeup

          Matthew dropped me off at Zac's apartment building, and though he begged me not to leave, I did anyways, not able to look at him in that moment. I stood in the lobby for almost ten minutes, pacing back and forth near the elevator, trying to decide whether or not to go up to his apartment. The young man at the front desk looked at me anxiously as I did so, but I payed him no mind. I couldn't focus on anything else in that moment except for the image I had in my head of Skylar with Matthew, the boy who was supposed to be my soulmate. I eventually decided against seeing Zac, knowing he couldn't make me feel any better. I took an Uber to a hotel, the same one I stayed at when I first left Mat. It felt just how it did the first time, and I slid my back down the door, my mascara staining my cheeks as I cried. I felt so naive, so stupid for not knowing what Mat was up to when we were apart, and was so angry he hadn't told me.

           I cried myself to sleep that night, hugging a teddy bear I had gotten from Mat for some Christmas or birthday that had long ago passed. By the time I awoke the next day at almost one in the afternoon, I had missed fourteen calls from Matthew. I knew he loved me and I knew he was sorry, but I couldn't overlook what he had done. For the weeks we were apart this past fall, I thought Mat was grieving, only taking breaks from his grief to go to his concerts. I never imagined him with someone else, especially not someone like her. I couldn't get her out of my mind; she made me feel so ugly and weak. She was the girl that made my ex fiancé forget about me, and I would never forgive her for that.

          It was 7:00 PM and I was still in bed, watching an episode of That 70's Show, when my anger at Mat faded for just long enough for me to realize this could be it. Matthew could be growing old of the fighting. He could decide that I was no longer worth it. This could be the last time I run out on him in tears. If I didn't go back home, this could be the end for me and Mat, and that wasn't something I could handle.

           I stayed the night again at the hotel, and checked out in the morning to go home. I was still livid, still unaware of how I would face him, but I knew I couldn't let Matthew get away. When I entered the house, still in the same outfit I was wearing when I stormed out of the mall two days prior, I saw Mat sitting on the couch, looking distraught, and Skylar was comforting him. Her hand was rubbing up and down his thigh and she talked to him in a quiet, sing songy voice that made me sick to my stomach. I stood in the doorway, waiting to see if either of them would notice me. When they didn't, I spoke up. "Nice to see Skylar meant nothing to you Mat."

          He looked up at me, not embarrassed, but frustrated. "She doesn't Ashton, she's here to make sure I'm okay after you humiliated me by causing a scene at the mall, and then ran off to be with Zac again." "Actually, I wasn't with Zac. I stayed in a hotel because I didn't want to hurt you. I see you don't care about how I feel." I shot back with no regard to Skylar, who left her hand on Mat's thigh. "Don't start with this. You leave me every time everything doesn't go exactly how you want it to. You're right about me Ashton, I'm a recovering addict and a screw up and I'm sorry, but you're the one who chooses to be with me. You could easily move out and move on with your life if you wanted, but instead you play with my feelings by continuing to date Zac, yet promising me that you want to marry me one day." He was standing up now, his face only inches from mine, and I couldn't tell which of us was angrier. "If you actually wanted us to be together, you wouldn't have Skylar here rubbing your thigh while you thought I was at Zac's." Skylar stood up, grabbing her off brand fake leather purse. "I think I'm gonna go..." "Yeah you do that." I responded, pointing towards the door. She showed herself out, but her leaving didn't call for a pause in mine and Matthew's argument. "So maybe she still likes me, so what? You can't get jealous. You have a boyfriend, and the last time you and I slept  together was months ago. Like I said at the hospital, if you love me, you have to prove it." Caught up in the moment and his eyes that were so calming and familiar, I blurted out "Matthew, I'm in love you. I've been in love with you since I was nineteen years old, and if you want me to prove it, I will." 

          I leaned in, my lips connecting with his. It was a feeling I knew so well and had missed so dearly. We quickly moved to the couch, his hands in my hair and mine going to remove his shirt. We had gone from fighting to making out on our couch in a matter of seconds, and the way we could do that is what made us who we were. We were a highly dysfuncional couple, our love often ruined by time or circumstance. I wasn't sure if we'd ever get things right, and I wasn't sure if either of us were truly trying anymore. Matthew and I were stuck in a never ending cycle of hatred, lust, and love, and I wouldn't change it for anything.