Crying Out

Part Thirteen: Broken Promises

My eyes never strayed from the empy nothingness of my living room wall, tracing invisible patterns even when I heard the soft click of my opening front door.

" I'm sorry its been so long," Corbyn offered when I didn't greet him. Voice quiet, his soft eyes warm as they fell upon me," it's... it's just really hard to figure out when Miah will leave long enough for me to come over."

There it was again, second best.

Always second best.

The sofa dipped, allowing Corbyn to lower himself down beside me. I could feel his gaze, still and wondering, feel his warmth.

The warmth I had longed for that cold morning all those nights ago. The warmth my every atom had grown to crave. The warmth that brought flushes to my cheeks and sent my heart racing.

The warmth that same heart still yearned for, no matter how it would break each and every time it disappeared.

" Dan?"

His heart's song was uncertain, maybe even scared. The low, lingering ring of a violin. The type that made your stomach churn and throat swell.

It was so far from the usually soft, almost happy, almost, symphony I had always gotten.

" Get out," my voice rough from days of silence, harsh from hours of unspoken grief.

My gaze never finding the strength to look at him.

" W-what?"

" Get. Out," I repeated, slower this time. Clinging to the little, snickering voice that prasied the bitter words. That purred when I pushed him away.

" You're mad about the other night,"
the soft realization a breath on his lips. His hands plush and warm when they found mine," I'm sorry I lied to you, but... but you wouldn't have gone to sleep if I hadn't."

He pulled my fingers into a slow, familiar dance. The same one they would sway through every time he thought I was angry with him.

A dance that mimicked the one from that night.

The night I held him close, the same night he let me have a first he could never get back.

The memory left me bitter, no longer filling me with the reminiscent tingle I had felt so many times before.

A lie.

That was it. Of course that was all he would see it as.

Of course he would think so little of a promise.

Just a simple lie.

Just another lie.

" No," I breathed," I'm not mad about the other night."

I kept my tone far-away. Kept myself disconnected from my throbbing heart, from the longing that had never ceased.

That would never cease. Not when I had gotten a taste of him.

" Then... then what did I do?"

" Nothing," I explained, tongue feeling heavy," you haven't done a damn thing. But that's the problem isn't?"

The words didn't hold the harsh bite I had expected. They were instead an eerie calm, a low whisper from some deep, dark, cold part of my chest.

" What?"

" You don't ever do anything. You sit there and you take it and you obey. That's all you ever do."

" I... I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry," he tipped his head for me, silently offering his lips while averting his eyes, submitting completely to me in a way he never had before.