sign {h.s.}

capítol quaranta-set

C A S S I D Y ' S P O V

"I--I can't do this," I say, pulling my face out of Bea's grasp and turning away. "It's not that you're not beautiful--because you are, and it's not that I feel some lingering sense of loyalty to Harry--because that is done. But, I am--I am not in a place where I would be doing this for the right reasons. Now, it would feel good. It would feel really good. Really. But, I come first. If I do this now, I would feel so horrible about myself. I--I can't do that."

Halfway through my speech, I realize that I am rambling. But, I am unable to stop it. Even though it is not the case, I feel as though I owe Bea some sort of explanation. Twice we have nearly been in this situation, and twice I have been the one to walk away. Only, the first time, Harry was the one to turn her away. Somehow, it was easier when he was the one to take the control on this conversation. How was he able to do it so strategically? In such a way that she would still be able to be my friend without any resentment?

That was just his way. Blunt and harsh when he wanted to be; but it was just some sort of defensive act. Internally, truly and deeply, his personality was a soft boy who had been abandoned one too many times by one too many people. Family and lovers alike; I wonder why I've never heard him mention any friends. 

Even now, he plagues my thoughts. He is some sort of virus that I just can't kick--quit. Until it is a taboo, I hadn't realized how much he truly is on my mind. How much I think about him. How much time I spend with him. Losing him is like losing half of me. In such a short time, that is what he had become. Half of me.

There is a stumble in my step as I push myself out of a seated position. Blankly, I reach behind me, feeling for the wall or looking for a piece of furniture to hold me upright. While no longer seated, the immediate effects of the alcohol are suddenly more present. "Cassidy, just sit down," Bea immediately assures, instantly moving past the moment that we had been sharing moments before. Perhaps Harry didn't have to do anything special. Maybe this is just her personality. 

"No, I need--I need to go," I insist, fumbling around and grabbing whatever things I immediately recognize and process as being mine. Weak fingers wrap around the handle to the suitcase that I had charged in here with. "I'll call my brother," I assure her, pushing myself out of the door, ignoring her requests for me to come back inside and lay down.

"Cassidy--"

"It's okay," I repeat in a drunken slur; picking up my speed as I hit the living room of the familiar apartment. Suddenly, there is an eagerness of my exit of the apartment. Even with the late hour and my lack of other options to turn to, there is a sudden need that I have to get out of there. 

"Cass!" I hear as I slam the door shut behind me. 

Still, I don't pause in my walk as I fumble around to pull out my phone. After a couple of seconds, I grab the device out of my pocket and shakily unlock it. Immediately, I move to the phone app, dialing one of the six phone numbers I know from heart. 

Fortunately for me, I am answered on the second ring. "Cass?" 

"Caleb," I sigh his name drunkenly. Relief is sent through me instantly. 

"How's Paris? Sounds like it's treating you well. Jealous, by the way," my brother laughs through the phone. In the background, I hear my younger brother's voice asking who it is on the phone. Caleb quickly informs him that it is me, to which Connor asks to speak to me as well. "Hold on, I'm putting you on speaker."