Blurred Lines [BxB] COMPLETED

0.15

0.15 - Saturday 1:05 p.m.

Maverick Bale

I shouldn't have gone to the party. My head is pounding, and the room is bright even though I haven't opened my eyes yet. Before fully awakening, I do a mental check.

What day is it? Saturday.

Where am I? Rhys's house, in his younger brother's room.

Who have I pissed off? Rhys, Lauren, Beverly, Jules. Probably Alex. Maybe Hunter. Lola and Sarah by default. My mom. The whole fucking universe, basically.

Who have I not pissed off? Tristan. That's just great.

You know you've done something wrong when Tristan fucking Morrison is the only person who can stand you.

Okay, it's really time to get up. My back is stiff from the unfamiliar bed and my mouth is dry from the purely alcoholic night. Finally, I open my eyes. The room looks exactly as I remember Kevin's room from the scarce times I've entered it before, a typical eighth grader's room, with the curtains drawn open. That would explain why the room was so damn bright.

I really don't want to go downstairs. That means facing Rhys and all that's happened. But I can't put it off forever and I really need some water. With much reluctance, I prop myself up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

Pausing, I listen for footsteps or voices. Nothing. My stomach sinks. Do I want Rhys to be downstairs? No, that's not possible. There's no way, there's just no─

Knock, knock, knock.

"Mav? Are you awake?"

It was like my heart jumped to my throat and I couldn't quite breathe.

"Yeah," I say, but my voice cracks so I clear my throat and repeat it more firmly. God, now my cheeks are burning.

The door opens slowly. Shit, he's coming in? I thread my fingers through my hair, patting down the mess. Rhys's head pops inside for a moment before the door opens fully, and Rhys steps inside.

Rhys is still in his pajamas, a plain grey shirt and Hilltop sweats. His dark brown hair has been lifted and messed around, but he doesn't make any move to fix it. Rhys's eyes travel over me.

"You slept in your clothes from last night," Rhys says. I raise an eyebrow.

"Well, I wasn't planning to sleep over, so I didn't bring a change of clothes," I say. Rhys looks down at his feet with a frown, which peek out from under his sweats.

"Sorry, I should've─I should've given you some clothes last night," Rhys says, blushes, "you know, to sleep in. Sorry."

"It's fine. I slept fine," I say, glance to the window, "except that the sun was really bright and I forgot to close the blinds."

Rhys frowns deeper, looking miserable, "Sorry."

"It's not your fault," I say. Rhys looks up.

"Do you want breakfast?"

My stomach rumbles, and we both smile briefly. "Yeah, I do."

Downstairs Rhys shuffles around in the kitchen, studiously avoiding my gaze while he places a bowl and a spoon in front of me.

The silence is almost unbearable. When did this happen? Since when could we not stand to be in the same room together? Since when could we not talk to each other?

Even as I remember the ugly, hurtful words he threw at me on multiple occasions, I still can't believe we've become this far apart.

Should I address it? Do I even dare try to bridge a gap that Rhys made, and risk angering him again?