Broken Love //joshler [✔️]

20. Disillusioned

disillusioned
[disəˈlo͞oZHənd]
adjective
disappointed in someone or something that one discovers to be less good than one had believed

The bed was empty when Tyler woke up.

He tried not to think too much into it, Josh was probably just in the bathroom or downstairs or something.

The sun was beaming in through the windows, directly into Tyler's eyes. He squinted and rolled over, hiding his head beneath a pillow as he groaned.

He felt so hungover.

The memory of last night was foggy. Tyler couldn't remember much at first, but the more he thought the more he recalled. Getting sexually harassed, Josh not believing him, all of the fighting, the yelling, the threats...

It was overwhelming to think about.

If Tyler wouldn't have been drunk last night, he probably would've handled everything way worse than he actually did.

He still thinks Josh is an asshole, but he still loves him. Speaking of Josh, where was he?

Tyler gradually sat up, clutching his stomach as a wave of nausea coursed over his chilled body.

"Fuck," he mumbled, taking a moment to let the nausea pass before standing.

Tyler made his way downstairs, careful to not move too fast and upset his stomach. He looked for Josh in the living room, but found nobody. He looked in the kitchen, nothing.

"Josh!?" He called out, looking around in confusion. "Are you home!?"

No answer.

"Of course," Tyler muttered, rolling his eyes.

He decided to make himself some toast and drink a glass of water, hoping it would ease the aching in his stomach. Just as he was about to sit at the island, the front door opened.

"Josh?"

"Yeah, it's just me."

Tyler let out a sigh of relief. He left his food on the counter to meet Josh at the door. He was about to give the man a hug, but froze upon seeing him.

"Josh?"

"What?" The man responded, pulling up the collar of his shirt and adverting his eyes.

"Where were you?"

"I don't know, I can't remember. I'm still kind of drunk. I woke up in this dude's car," he chuckled, pulling his collar up to cover the lower half of his face. "I'm gonna get in the shower."

"Josh," Tyler murmured. "Are those hickies on your neck?"

"What? No? What hickies?"

"Oh my god," the brunette whispered, reaching for Josh's hands. "Let me see."

"Don't touch me," Josh snapped, turning away from Tyler's reach. "I didn't do anything you haven't already."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Fine," Josh glared, letting go of his shirt and exposing the bruises littering his neck. "I went back to the bar after you fell asleep and I fucked the shit out of this one chick. And I loved every second of it."

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Tyler yelled, tears gathering in his eyes as the aching in his stomach grew worse. "Are you kidding me!?"

Josh only shrugged. "I know you and that guy did shit in the bathroom, so don't act innocent. I was only doing what you did to me."

"Oh no, fuck you. Fuck this. I hate you, I really fucking hate you. Don't talk to me, don't touch me, don't even look at me. I am done," Tyler spoke in a shaky voice, not even bothering with yelling. "We're done."

"You can't break up with me," Josh responded in a calm voice, despite the way his fists clenched at his side.

"I just did."

Tyler went to walk away, but Josh caught ahold of his wrist and yanked him back.

"You are not leaving. You did not break up with me," the man said, staring Tyler right in the eye. "You will not argue with me."

"I said don't fucking touch me, psycho!" Tyler snapped, pulling his wrist out of Josh's grip. As soon as he was free, he flung the front door open and ran out.

Tyler ran down the street, too scared to even look to see if Josh was chasing him. He ran and ran and didn't stop until he was two blocks away. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Tyler saw Josh wasn't behind him. Thank god.

He was seriously fucking crazy. Josh was delusional, and insecure, and flat out fucking insane.

Tyler knew he did what was best.

He had to leave, no matter how much he might have thought he loved Josh and no matter how much it hurt on the inside. It was hurting him even more to stay.

Tyler pulled out his phone and dialed Elsa's number, but before he could hit call, he saw Josh's car turn down the street.

"Fuck."

The phone was stuffed in his pocket as Tyler took off running again. He was exhausted, nauseous, and his legs hurt from having just sprinted a few minutes ago. Running was no use.

Josh was catching up to him. Tyler was basically going to get kidnapped and then he'd be stuck with Josh forever. He was honestly afraid for his life, but it wasn't enough to help him out-run a car.

Josh quickly caught up and drove beside Tyler. He rolled the window down and yelled, "Stop fucking running and get in this damn car right now!"

"Fuck you!" Tyler shot back, swallowing the bile that rose in the back of his throat. Running with a hangover was not a good idea.

"Tyler Robert Joseph if you don't stop I'll fucking make you!"

And Tyler did eventually stop. Not because Josh told him to, but because he desperately needed to throw up and felt like he was going to pass out. He stopped running and doubled over, puking on the sidewalk.

He watched as Josh pulled up to the curb. The car door opened, but Tyler couldn't do anything except for cry and puke. It felt absolutely ridiculous.

"Look at you," Josh mumbled from beside him. "You made yourself sick."

"Don't touch me," Tyler groaned, hands clutched over his stomach. "I'm going to pass out."

"You're a goddamn idiot."

"Shut up," he murmured, struggling to keep his eyes opened as he battled another wave of nausea. "Go home and leave me."

"I warned you about leaving me, didn't I? I told you you'd fucking regret it," Josh said, grabbing a fistful of Tyler's hair and yanking him to stand upright.

The brunette couldn't usher much of a response, just a weak little grunt. Everything was spinning. He could hardly even stand. He didn't even care what happened to him anymore. If he went with Josh at least he would get to lay down.

"I warned you, Tyler," Josh continued, dragging the brunette to the car. He loaded him into the passenger seat before getting in and driving back home. "I'm sick of dealing with you. Maybe you're right, maybe you should just leave."

Tyler hummed in response, resting his head against the window as he finally let his eyes shut.

"You're going to leave, alright. Just you fucking wait. You're going to get exactly what you want."

But Tyler couldn't hear a word. If he could, he surely would've jumped out of the car right then and there. But he was unconscious and totally deaf to the menacing threats leaving his broken love's mouth.