Timothee.

chapter eight. timothée.

My phone call had quickly ended and before I realized it... she was gone. I couldn't blame her, I mean I was piss drunk and acting a fool right in front of her face.
I almost imagined us as that portrait "Creation of Adam," by Michelangelo. Though that portrait shows God and Adam barely connecting their hands, hers slipped away from me and the space between our fingers grew bigger and bigger.

I couldn't even blame it on her, I had to blame it on myself; that's what made it worse. A knot in my head kept expanding and a headache formed. I texted her.

Me
Adele. Please come back
I'm sorry.

Me
Adele? Please...

I had to come to a realization that she wasn't going to text back. Fuck, I didn't deserve it but I felt so entitled like she owed me an apology for walking away. Yet, I was the one who walked away first.

My feet had guided me to the nearest bar and I made my way into it, sitting at the bar and ordering myself a beer.

Adele
You were just acting..
different I guess.

I read the text analyzing it. Honestly, the personality dynamics between us was bizarre. I bet she'd never even seen a drunk person before. Of course she was only 19, she'd probably never even touched a glass of wine.

I was getting ahead of myself, I was getting full of myself again. There was never a time where I felt as if I was the one at fault until now, which led me to suddenly believe that what happened to me last summer was... my fault. I just had to admit I was wrong, because I was. Things like that had been difficult for me.
The bartender quickly slid me my beer and in 3 seconds half of the pint was gone. I felt my confidence grow again and the edge of my lip twitched and pulled into a smirk.

Of course! I'd just ask her to come over to my house and we could speak in person. Mastermind, genius, fucking call me Albert Einstein.

Me
Here, an idea:
Come over to my apartment
and i'll send you the address.
We can talk there.

Adele
Oh my god, fine.

Cool. Now all I had to do was just be a sane person. Of course do sane people chug half a pint of beer in 3 seconds? Probably not. Ordering another one I scrolled through the news, hoping that nobody had spotted me or caught me to eventually blow my cover. Everything was quiet. People had been tweeting me all day about my whereabouts but I stayed silent. I should've probably said something. Fuck it.

"Currently enjoying this beautiful Italian sun!"

Perfect. The bartender once again slid me a pint of beer and I drank some more.

Adele
What time should I
head over Timothée?

Another text. I exited out of Adele's to see Saoirse had sent me an urgent text. Of course Saoirse again. I loved her but dammit.

Saoirse
Liar liar pants on fire!

Saoirse
You better hope nobody
figures out the truth timmy.

Yes, she always had such a way of calming my nerves. Quickly, I chugged the beer and I had already figured out a clever way to drink the beer without removing the scarf from my face. Not only would I have to wear this scarf every single time I was around Adele, but now I had to wear it everywhere.
Maybe somebody should take my phone away when I'm drunk.

I exited the bar stumbling over my shoes, praying there are no scuff marks. Quickly, I got into a taxi. I couldn't even walk and my heart was pounding. I recited words in my head, how I would persuade her that I wasn't drunk and that I am taking us seriously. If there even is an us.
I guess I meant our friendship? My brain was scrambled. It was all over the place. Fuck. All I knew was that I had to keep the scarf over my face or things wouldn't go over well. I was already on thin ice.

Me
Inna taxi. Headingho
me.

Adele
Ok.