The Saint Jones [Completed]

chapter 60: Friendship Goal

Sether

She walks out without uttering a single word, and that was what I wanted, but why do I suddenly feel this weight in the pit of my stomach? Why do I feel like something is about to break inside me?

My head rotates vigorously, which forces me to sit on the edge of my bed. With my head low, I cry like a little kid, like the little one who has the same face as me, the same body, the same feelings and I experience the pain in me, the hardness of life is haunting me.

I feel bad for pushing her after willingly bringing her here. But the feelings in me was way too strong and capricious, I couldn't help in the reluctant I was having. Tears are falling down my face, speeding more as I tighten my eyes shut, my throat gets tighter as I shed silently in this room.

In this mess I am in, the sound of the open and closing door emerge in my ears, not even compelling me. I know it's not Cher, this is obvious she's not coming back after the stare she send me before she disappeared outside. God himself knows how she's feeling now.

I hear the breathing, like a tired one, detaching out of the body of a tired soul. My senses are on, my ears can perfectly distinguished the rapidity the breathing is going on now, shifting in the emotions, more angry than tired. My nose is working finely, smelling the scent of the person; herbs, green herbs boiled in bred temperature.

"Sometimes we hurt the ones we love, but hurting ourselves to avoid it doesn't make it better. –Shannon Thompson." 

"I'd really like some privacy. Get out."

I wipe my eyes quickly with the back of my hand, feeling the burning sensation around them. I hear him sighs and seconds later, he's next to me on the bed. I try not to look at him because I know I'll fall apart in front of him. I feel so bad and dirty inside that his presence here isn't working on me.

"Privacy man, is torture when you're feeling down. You know what my father told me once?"

I wait but hear nothing coming, so I sigh deeply and turn my head to him and find his eyes on me already. This small smile appears on his lips, it's welcoming and charming and above all, warming from the heart. He takes a deep breath, chest moving out profusely and goes back down slowly, then he goes on.

"After a pain of life, you go down Dandelyan, and drown yourself in beers and gossips."

I narrow my eyes at him, at his nonsense. Now I know where he got his crazy mind, it has surely been transmitted from father to son. Dandelyan, I've never been there, but one shot or two would have been gladly accepted right now, even if it's completely fake, alcohol never solves things, it makes them worse.

"And Mayfair is the cherry on top of the cake, that was his words to me," he says and laughs a little. I've met Justin's dad a lot, but never though he was in those sorts of things.

Mayfair, Dandelyan, these explains everything, these explains clearly why I have a play boy as a best friend and why his father is always so cool and laid back. I mean, can't judge them, it's their life, but I can't see myself walking in these places to blend in my pain. Pain is hard and untamed, it sticks on you and push you six feet deep down, until you choke on your own sadness.

"But, unfortunately, we don't have them here, so I propose you to go get drunk and think about life," he taps my back gently.

"Privacy," I mumble at him, my voice lower as ever and plain.

"I'm not leaving you alone, you can try to drag me out, I'll resist. Even if I don't think I have my chance, but I'll resist."

I shake my head and look down at the floor. There is this eruption into me, I want to cry more but the presence of Justin next to me is slightly helping, this I have to be honest on. But this pain and blade into me isn't going away, it's still there in my flesh.