Ice To Meet You

Oh, deer.

"Don't freak out Mia. So, what if you know nothing about what cocaine does and if mom has always warned you against it. You can be completely chill—you are fine. This news is fine." Inner bitch consoles my gentle heart.

"Ask him why. Everyone has a reason Mia—ask him for his," Inner voice interjects her.

"Are—I mean do you do it often?" Why can't I ask him the question I am dying to ask him? Am I scared of the answer?

"Define often?" He is still caressing my hair and it is so not calming me down. He is so chill about it—like it's not cocaine and Coca Cola instead. Is it that common in his world?

"Do you do it every day?" My breath feels heavy. I don't want him to answer me. I am not mentally prepared for the answer.

"No Mia, I only do it recreationally."

I exhale, my breath not feeling restricted anymore. Suddenly I am hyper-aware of my nakedness and I place my hands on my breast to cover myself. "Don't do this."

"Do what?" I am not even getting started on my questions just yet.

"Don't hide from me." He says as he tugs at my hands. I can't be naked and have this conversation with him. I need to focus on my peace of mind right now. 

"I need some answers Liam, please stop distracting me."

He leaves my hand alone and now I miss his touch. What sorcery is this? I am getting addicted to his touch.

"Can we still down and talk about this?"

"What is there to talk about? Why do you women like talking so much?" He irritated says as he brushes his hair back from his face.

"I am going to change and by the time I am back I expect you to be seated on the couch waiting for me, patiently," I say and walk into the room like a boss. Except I am going in the wrong direction towards the roof instead so I take a detour and hear him giggle as I go to the room. I quickly try to change into a sleep shirt that god knows who picked out for me. I need to ask him so much.

I come back to the living room and he is sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette. He's also drinking whiskey and I can feel his apprehension hanging heavy in the air. He is nervous with my future interrogation as he should be—I am not going to go easy on him. I sit by him—holding back my cry as I bend down to sit. The process of sitting is excruciatingly painful. My ribs are sore and my spine aches. I force myself to act normal as I push my back to the back of the couch clenching. Liam has a cigarette in one hand and his other hand is clenched together. The mood has taken a turn for somber and I wish we were more playful and fun right now but we've got to address the elephant in the room.

I give him my hand to hold and he intertwines his fingers in mine. This feels good.

"When was the first time you used drugs, Liam?"

"I was about 15." He doesn't look at me—instead, he is looking ahead and smoking his cigarette.

"Why did you do it?" There is always a reason. There has to be—no 15-year-old decides to escape life. There has to be something more lurking underneath.

He takes his hand away from me and pushes his hair back. I am starting to think this is my cue—whenever he does this he is clearly uncomfortable.

"I had my reasons, Mia. I don't do hard drugs anymore, that's all you've got to know." He almost yells towards the end. I don't—I can't drop it. I have to know. I have invested too much in him to come back empty-handed.

"No 15-year-old can have reasons big enough to do drugs. Were you just a rich spoilt boy who couldn't resist peer pressure?" I don't want to sound insensitive but if he won't answer me I can't help but jump to my own conclusions.

"Is that what you think of me?" He has his deep blue eyes set on me and I can see the scorching intensity in his eyes. He's affected by my words. Have I hit a raw nerve?

"How can I understand you if don't talk to me?"

"Is that what you think of me, Mia? Am I just a spoilt rich brat who started using drugs because he was bored?" He sounds hurt—almost betrayed.

"I didn't say bored—I said peer pressure. People can get carried away some times—I am not judging you for it."

"You aren't?" He raises his eyebrow at me as he butts his cigarette.

"Liam, I love you unconditionally. Your past does not define you anymore."

"Then why do you want to know?"

"I want to understand you—I just—" I stop mid-sentence as he lays his head on my lap. His legs are close to his chest and he looks so vulnerable. So innocent. So, unlike everything Hannah said about him. He's not the devil people think he is—he's a fallen angel. I brush his hair, he really has thick velvety hair.

"Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I didn't know how to handle it—I know it isn't the most responsible or mature thing to do but I was 15 okay?"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Liam," not after what you just said.

"I should have taken care of Hazel or been there for mom but instead I was out all-night shooting heroin." His voice almost cracks towards the end and I know his actions might be fucked up but I can't help but feel compassion for him. We all handle crises differently. We all have coping mechanisms that are destructive and I can't judge him for shooting heroin when I have done some pretty fucked up things to my own body.

"I love you, Liam. I understand now," I try to reassure him.

"I don't get it, why do you still love me? Can't you see? I was out nights at ends and not once by my mother's side. Can't you see how fucked up that is?"

"You were just a kid Liam. You were hurting and you numbed the pain in any way that you knew how to."

"That's such a poor excuse." It is but guess what? It isn't too. Life isn't black or white—it's grey. We all do the best we can do find a way out of the mess that is life and sometimes our path isn't straight but that doesn't make us bad people. That just makes us human. Liam is just human and humans make mistakes. I have seen him with Martha, even if only once and he clearly adores her.

"How can you still love me, Mia?"

"I just do. You don't stop loving a person because they did something terrible when they were a kid." How can I drill it into his head that I love him? He moves away from my lap, sits upright and looks deep into my eyes. I smile with all my heart. How can I not? He looks so cute with his hair all wiggled up.

"I don't love you, Mia. I never have and I never will."

Author's Note 

Really sleepy but if you were Mia, how would you react to this? Do you think Mia should is forcing her love onto him? What would you do next if you were in Mia's position? Please give me the inspiration to write further in your thoughts below :)

Love you guys so muchXX