tired yet? ||cashby||

Chapter 15

Austin: driveway. I'm so, so sorry.

I couldn't even believe my eyes. Staring at the phone for a few moments, I felt my throat go dry. What do I do? Am I supposed to forgive him? My hands started to shake as he texted me again.

Austin: please.

With my head spinning, I pulled a pair of jeans on over my boxers, and slipped a t-shirt over my head. The fabric of it was soft, but my arms felt naked without a hoodie. Somehow, though, I couldn't bear to cover up now that he knew what I'd been hiding. With nothing else but my phone inside my pocket, I padded up the stairs, feeling anxiety in my chest.

My feet tapped against the cool, hardwood floor as I felt my way through the darkness of our house. The air was muggier than I had imagined up there, so I slipped out the door quickly, inching it shut. Breathing in the cooler night atmosphere, I tried to calm myself, but was so afraid of the rejection. What was he going to say? I was so confused, because he wanted nothing to do with me just last night, and now he seemed penitent.

His car sat at the end of the driveway, and just the sight of it filled my head with memories from last night. It made me itch, but I kept going anyways. I was done with being scared. Making my way up to it, I forced myself to breathe normally. He looked up when I was a few feet away, and I could feel my heart stop. Weird, warm chills ran through my arms and up to my chest, then radiated back out again as I felt the muscle in my chest hammer. With a click and an open of the door, he was standing in front of me. The moon was clouded over tonight, leaving everything a ghostly silhouette, save for Austin, who stood close enough for me to make out his features. Shadows licked at his form, shrouding beneath his eyes and lips. Despite everything, the fight and the bad feelings and all the words he had said, I felt my heart skip a beat at the sight of him; I felt myself fall in love.

"Alan," his voice was scratchy, and he cleared it before continuing. "I-I didn't mean to- to freak out like that."

"Whatever," I heard myself mumble. His apology was small, and soothed nothing inside of me. Our voices sounded hollow and broken underneath the clouds and muffled stars, like little flames wearily resisting being stamped out by a heavy, black cloak.

"N-no," he reached out and grabbed my hands, gripping them desperately. "It just, uh, it really reminded me of someone else. When I was 11, m-my older brother Jason died." His voice sounded kind of choked, like someone was strangling him, but he forced the words out anyways. It scared me, and I watched helplessly as he recounted.

"I walked into his room one day and he- he was just, uh, l-laying there." His forefinger traced up my scar, and I felt my heart leap up into my mouth.

"A-Austin, I didn't mean t-to-"

"It's okay." He cut me off, swallowing the lump in his throat. "For a second there," he said, chuckling humorlessly, "I couldn't really see you. I kept seeing Jason..." He looked down at our feet, then back to my eyes. The weight of his words laid heavy in my throat, blocking much chance at a put together response. "A-anyways, that's why I ran away like that..."

"It w-was an accident," I choked out. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," I said again. "I'm sorry." My mouth kept making those two words, lips and tongue tripping over each other as I thought about everything he went through. He found his brother after he'd killed himself. It kept on hitting me as I bit my tongue, holding the words back. He found his brother laying in a pool of his own blood.

"Sh, Alan, don't apologize." He smiled down at me, and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. The way his lips curled up so softly, it killed me inside. There was no way for me to put a point on exactly what feeling this was, but it felt like there was an uncontrolled fire in my stomach, spreading through my chest and up my throat.