You make me ache

Ch14: Heated flames and Whimpers.

Troye's POV.

As I sit in Zoe's small car, I can hear Tyler softly snoring to my left and I throw a quick glance at him, grimacing weakly as I see his pained expression. His hand is stretched out, nearing my own, searching for me in his sleep however instead of linking my fingers with his like I usually would, I bring my own hand up and place it on my knee, out of his reach. I turn my head and stare out of the window, remembering the events of last night.

I had sat on the cold, damp wooden dock at the edge of the lake in the hotel gardens with my bare feet pulled under me in attempt to warm them up- I had left the hotel room so fast that I hadn't stopped to grab any shoes and consequently I had been more prone to the chill of the breezy night. Shivering, I had stared out into the vast lake; it was still and calm and I hoped for it to have the same effect on my dazed and spinning brain as I let out muffled sobs. In further attempts to calm my tears, I had repeatedly filled my lungs with the fresh country air but my sobs kept choking me, restricting my throat in a dry and crackling manner.

Once my stream of tears finally ran dry, I had rubbed at my swollen, tired eyes and pulled my cheeks outwards, contorting my face before dragging my fingertips into the back of my neck and squeezing trying to relieve some of my tension. Tyler's words had undone the work of my earlier massage and my muscles were now rigid with dread. I had watched as a group of geese glided past me on the water but my face failed to smile at the sight, instead remaining blank and vapid as I tried to process the events of my night- accepting that Tyler had rejected my plea for him to move to Australia with me. I had scolded myself for being so juvenile in letting myself believe that he would even consider the move. His words in the toilets the previous night had been that he didn't want us to be apart, not that we wouldn't be apart. In my hurt state, I had taken his words and span them into an alternate truth so that I could temporarily fix my desperation- forever trying to fool myself. This preservation technique had worked when Tyler and I first started to explore each other more intimately. I had successfully lied to myself about our relationship or rather in reality the lack of relationship at that said time but it had been okay, because it had all worked out and within a few months, my protective lie had become a happy truth. This time I had taken his words, spun them to my liking and used them to allow myself to ask him to move with me, when truly I had known all along that if it were an option, he would have suggested it himself a long time ago.

I drift back into the present moment as fat rain drops patter onto the car window and I watch as they slowly vibrate their way to the base, disappearing from sight, ceasing to be noticed any longer.  My fingertips trace the pathway that one rain drop takes and I envy the option it has to run and hide.  My presence today is not causing anyone any happiness for I can only dwell on the words of last night. I know that it is unreasonable to be angry with Tyler, there is good reason that we have never previously discussed the idea of him moving; his logic for saying no is valid. This knowledge however had failed to soothe me last night after our outburst of emotions and subsequently I had sat on the dock unable to extinguish the heated flames that flickered inside my chest. They had persisted to burn, scorching my heart with hurt and smoking my throat with frustration. As I finally accepted that I would not be able to calm myself any further I had reluctantly trailed back to our hotel room.

I had realised once I reached the room that I hadn't got my key card and sighed at myself for my earlier haste. Hesitantly I had knocked on the door and my previous hope of finding Tyler asleep and therefore avoiding him until the morning had unwillingly disappeared. As he opened the door, he looked washed out and gritty, he too had obviously been suffering since our fight. He had been cautious in his behaviour, clearly unsure of how to behave in front of me, not able to read my lifeless expression. I had purposefully avoiding brushing against him as I entered the room, not wanting any contact with the man that had caused me so much pain. Deep down I realised that he was right; leaving LA would be a nightmare for his career but in that moment I needed to take my fiery anger out on something and it was him that had received it. I had stridden straight into the bathroom, closing the door in his face as he tried to follow me. When brushing my teeth, I heard him tap at the door, calling my name tenderly, his voice cracking with emotion. My heart broke at the sound of my loves agony but the venomous flames that still scorched my insides continued to flare and I ignored his desperate plea. Instead I had gone to bed, fully dressed without a single word in his direction.