Puppy Love

Part one.

Ariana's POV

I had just finished rehearsals, and it was really draining. Since I released a new album, people were expecting a tour. I waned to give them what they were asking for. They deserved better, but I wasn't ready for another tour.

It was hard coming to the conclusion that I wasn't gonna tour. Many hours and many tears were involved in the thought process. I felt bad, since my fans deserved better than I could give them. I felt like I wasn't enough for them. They were always there for me and I wanted to reciprocate the energy but I just couldn't go through with a tour.

I wanted to do something small so that I could have a few shows, but not have a full on tour. So, my team and I came up with the Sweetener Sessions. I was excited for the first show tomorrow, but I just needed as much rest as I could get because I was exhausted from rehearsing and going to meetings all day.

It was late and all I wanted to do was get into bed and just sleep. I expected Pete to be asleep already, but when I unlocked the door and saw all the lights on, I knew he was awake.

"Hello?" I called out into the large apartment.

No answer.

I closed the door behind me and took my shoes off before walking further into the house. I entered the living room and saw Pete sitting on the couch. He sat facing away from me and towards the tv, but the tv was off.

I walked over to him and saw him starting at the floor. "Pete?"

I was confused at first, but when I saw the baggie on the table, I knew what was going on.

"Pete." I huffed angrily and shook his shoulder. When he didn't answer, I hit his chest. "Pete!"

"Huh?" He mumbled as he emerged from his daze and looked over at me.

I sighed and rolled my eyes as I grabbed the little plastic bag from the table containing white powder and went into the kitchen.

"Hey!" Pete yelled from behind me as he stood up and began following me. "Give it back!"

My foot pressed on the pedal of the trash can and the lid opened immediately. I threw the bag into the trash as Pete rushed over to me, trying to stop my actions. He pushed me away, sticking his hand in the trash to try and retrieve the baggie. I put my hand on my hip and rolled my eyes. "Really?"

"What do you mean 'really'?" He pulled his hand out of the trash can with the baggie safely secured in his grip. "This shit was expensive."

"Yea, and it's also ruining your health." I retorted with a sigh. "You know how I feel about this stuff, Pete."

"I know, babe. I'm sorry." He gave me a small kiss before walking back into the living room. "I'm getting better."

"Better?" I asked as I followed him. "How are you getting better? When we got together, you only smoked weed. And I was okay with that, but this new stuff you're doing and the new people you're hanging out with, I don't like it."

"It makes me feel good." He shrugged.

"I don't-" The lump in my throat made it harder to speak. "I don't understand. Am I not enough? What else do you need? I-I can get you anything you want."

Tears welled up in my eyes as he shook his head. "You can't, Ariana."

I looked down at our engagement ring on my finger before looking back up at Pete. I looked in his eyes as he stared blankly at the wall, and my heart broke. His eyes, which were one of the first things that drew me into him, seemed dark. When we first met, they held the universe in them. When he smiled at me, I saw my future, but now I see nothing.

"I can, Pete." I moved closer to him and took his hand. "Just tell me what you need to make you feel better and I'll get it for you."

"Stop!" He stood up quickly, pushing me off of him. "I feel like shit, and if doing what I'm doing is the only way to make me feel better, then I'm gonna keep doing it. There's nothing else. You're not-" He stopped talking and shook his head.

Enough.

I'm not enough for him. I wasn't enough for Mac. I'm not enough for my fans. I quickly wiped a tear away from my eyes as he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

He sat down, grabbing the small bag and pouring its contents on the table. I stood up. I couldn't bare to see him do that to himself. I left the living room and went to our room, laying down on the bed. Toulouse made his way over to me and curled up into a little ball right next to me as I cried silently.

I fell asleep, only to be woken up by Pete a few hours later, crawling in the bed behind me and wrapping his arm around me tightly. He rested his chin on my shoulder as he repeatedly apologized in quiet whispers. I moved closer to him as his grip around me tightened. I interlaced our fingers and brought his hand up to my lips, giving them a kiss. He gave me a kiss on the cheek before laying his head down on the pillow.

I tried not to think about it as much as I could, but nothing could stop me from worrying. I worry too much. This whole situation is physically and mentally draining. Drug abuse is one of the main reasons why Mac and I had to break up. I still love him as a person with my whole heart, but he just has demons that he needs to take care of on his own. I'm not a babysitter and should not be catering to his every want and need. I don't want the same thing to happen to Pete and I. I was just starting to be happy again.

Once again tears formed in my eyes and I let them fall onto my pillows. Silent tears turned into quiet sobs as I began to overthink. Pete's arm hung loosely around me. The drugs probably made him pass out, like they usually do. I checked his pulse just in case before trying my best to fall asleep again.