I still can't believe how you look next to me.

I crave you.

Title credit:
Flight Facilities- Crave you ft. Giselle

*Alan's pov*

The buzzer severed me from my dream. I rub my eyes laughing.

The night that idiot got hit by that car is a memory that half my brain cannot decide wether to be good nor bad.

My mind has been slowly losing it's detections from right and wrong, ever since my Austin has been gone. My mind races back to the image of Oliver being demolished by that car.

The memory soon fades and reality punches it's way back in.

I notice myself in front of the mirror.

Deep dark circles around my eyes.

My lips are chapped and have a light sting, twisted in a shitty smile.

You've lost your touch, Ashby.
Dear  God, no wonder why Austin isn't with you. Remember your senior prom? He said he'd marry you. Your youth is obviously  less prominent. Oh wait. Oliver slowly drove a wedge between you two. That WHORE you once called a bestfriend has him in his possession.

No no no, Alan.
You must realize your mistake.
The repetitive cheating and jealousy must've done it.
I mean you DID sleep with all his friends, male or female.

I tear myself from the contradicting thoughts and bang my fist into the mirror, shattering it.

I ball myself in the corner and Rock myself. It's the most frightening thing in the world that I can scare myself like this.

Monster monster monster monster monster monster monster monster monster...

"STOPPPPP!" I cup my ears begging for the voices to be silenced a little.

I drag myself into the kitchen.

I open the fridge to find nothing.

Empty.

I go to the grocery store and just as I'm checking out I overhear two familiar voices around the corner.

Vic and Kellin.

The young cashier handed me my groceries. I crouched behind the corner and listened in.

"Vicky, what should we buy for Oliver and Austin for their new baby?" Kellin chimes.

"It doesn't bother you  that Oliver's pregnant?" Vic  squinted his eyes

Pr-pregnant?

"No silly, All babies are miracles. Isn't that right Copeland?" Kellin chirpped.

I peered over the corner.

Their daughter was strapped to Vic's chest and Kellin was tickling her feet.

I stormed out of the store and through my groceries in the trunk.

I slammed the door shut and shook with rage. I gripped the wheel like it could save my life. My knuckles were stained white.

I cried so hard I was afraid my eyes would fall out.

I drove home in the rain that was beating off my windshield.

But that whore gets to live in paradise.

I shake it off and pull into the drive way. 

I grab the groceries and head to the door.

I see a note on the door, but instead of reading it I smack it off

"Fuck that. " I say under my breath.

I reach into the freezer and grab the huge bottle of vodka and choked it down.

After the alcohol consumed me I washed into a sea of  inebriate dreams.

Bullshit really.

I'm soon awakened by rough lips.

I snap my eyes open.

Phil.

He put all his weight on me crushing his body on mine.

You smell of pure alcohol.... Wait maybe its me.

He send cold chills down my spine with every violent kiss on my neck.

Before I can tug his shirt off he sits up.

"Alan, you make me want to change. You make me want to see the bright side of what was covered up by the loneliness if not having someone.  I- I don't wanna do coke anymore." He spits and slurs.

I simply chuckle

"It's funny you say that being the state you're in." I regret the words but don't take them back.

Phil seems to sober up and a shine glistens his eyes. He looks away from me.

"Alan, I love you, but you can be a real ass hole. " he says in a crackled  voice.

"I'm sor-" I try to spit out

"No, I'll NEVER be Austin! I know he's what you-" rage shoots through my body and I slap him across the face.

He gets out of bed and screams

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME AGAIN," he snatches the pillow from under me.

"I'm sleeping on the couch tonight." He huffs and shuts the lights off in our room.

I curl up in a ball .

"You're right, you'll never be him."  I whisper in the shadows of our room.

That  baby WILL be mine, one way or another.

"Why is this mirror broken, Alan?" He yells.