loveless // haylor au

chapter eight

"I'm not trying to stop you love,
but if we're gonna do anything we might
as well just fuck."

~

chapter eight
the self control problem

July 13th

(not edited)

After Dee's brutally honest words, I let myself take the next couple of days to decide what I truly wanted to do.

I spent a lot of time on the studio lot, sitting at my desk (the only piece of furniture, apart from the chair, that I had in there) writing, and editing and even sketching a bit.

I was avoiding going back to the flat, and people were starting to pick up on it. Al and Sammy, mainly.
Al had come by twice, and asked 'You're still here?' the second time.

Sammy messaged me and asked if we could hang out, and I told him I wasn't at home. He replied with "Swear you're never there anymore".

I'm sure he and Al would have some kind of discussion about it, but whatever, I didn't care. I'd make up an excuse. Anything was better than having to go back to the flat and speak to Wes and try to forget the things I just couldn't forget.

Things I couldn't forget... Like what Dee said. Shit, fuck. Her words kept playing over and over in my head, kicking me in the gut every single time I thought them.

"Wouldn't you want to know?" "They all don't sound like fantastic people."

I hated how right she sounded.
We weren't fantastic people.
Wes was a shit boyfriend, and Taylor was a bad girlfriend... but apparently I was cutting her some slack for that.

Both had messed up. But, really, they weren't the worst people in our fucked up little equation. I was.
I knew Wes hadn't cheated on Taylor, and I kept it from her, when she almost specifically asked. Then I slept with her, permanently damaging my friendship with Wes when he eventually found out.

I was cursed.
Nothing good was to come out of this.
Either way, I was screwed. I was still going to be a bad person, the least I could do was own it.

I ended up walking back home in the evening, journal in hand and with my head down. I was trying to not look so glum, but I really couldn't help it; I was practicing in my head what I was going to say to Wes.
How I was going to tell Wes.

I figured just coming out with it was best.
Then I'd brace for impact when he undoubtedly punched me in the face. Then I'd attempt at begging forgiveness, claiming our friendship meant a lot to me. Then I'd pack my shit and show up to Al's teeny tiny apartment, hoping he'd house me for a couple of weeks.

I don't know. It was a rough idea, and I was sure it would be a lot different in the moment.
Maybe Wes would even laugh about it?
Yeah. Absolutely not.

I hadn't even thought about one of the most important aspects of this whole thing until I was suddenly walking past Aurora Bouquet, and I got tingles all up my spine.

I debated taking a peek inside, to see if she were there — perhaps in another sundress.
But I didn't, instead, I scurried past before anyone saw me, eyes on the pavement.