“i never said that-” talula interjected when he referred to himself as a demon, “i never fuckin’ said that declan, you’re puttin’ words in my mouth, projectin’ shit you feel about you onto me an’ how you think i feel about you — you have no idea how i feel about you, delcan. none.” she rattled off quickly before he went on, promising that he was done ‘being the bad guy’. she knew that declan wasn’t a malicious person, or, at least not toward her. the one time she thought he’d truly meant to hurt her was out in those woods, but it didn’t make any of the dozen other times hurt any less. she physically pulled her head away from the phone, letting out an angry huff and rolling her eyes.
she let the silence linger for a few seconds, before shaking her head and letting out a breath, voice more calm but no less like ice as she put her face back to the phone. “ya never once apologized for any’a the horrible shit you said to me. y’basically called me cheap, easy, a slut, whatever - y’told me that my-” her breath hitched, “that my eating disorder was my fault,” she spat out, “and now you’re goin’ on about how you need a friend? where the fuck has my friend been, declan?” she didn’t give him enough time to answer. “whatever you wanna say t’ me, ya don’t wanna say over the phone, i get it. but i don’t wanna see you — i can’t handle seein’ you, right now. so where does that leave us, huh?”
“then stop treating me like one!” his voice turning a little gruffer. he knew he wasn’t the best with communication. people always tended to take his words as harsh. that’s why most people thought he was an asshole. but he was done skirting around things. he was trying to be as plain as possible. “I’m not projecting shit, lula. you have nothing but cold to me for a while. I know the shit I did and said was stupid and idiotic. I fucking know. but you haven’t given me the fucking chance to say anything when you put up this goddamned wall. and even when you do, you want me to explain myself on your time. when it’s good for you. sometimes I just need you to understand that this whole talking, sharing emotions thing doesn’t come fucking easy to me.”
he couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly, mainly out of disbelief, leaning back onto the couch while shaking his head. “I never called you easy, lu. when I said that night that ‘you better not come crawling back into my bed’, I meant if you hated me so goddamned much not to just turn around and try to climb into bed with me later. because you also fuck with peoples emotions. quite a fucking bit, actually. and, while we’re on the subject of that, do you notice anything different about the two of us? I can admit fault. you can’t even look back and think maybe you’ve done something or said something wrong.” declan could sense the anger bubbling up inside him. “oh, fuck off.” his voice grim and cold. “I never said it was your fault. I said that the difference between our problems was that yours was caused by your internal workings. like your brain and shit. sure, maybe other things perpetuated it, but it was like your body was attacking itself. when I was-” the words refused to leave his throat, burrowing back there enough to make his words squeak to a stop. “what happened to me was someone else attacking my body. it was an external struggle that burrowed deep. I’m sorry if it came off that way but don’t you confidently say I would say shit like that.” the fingers running through his hair began tugging at the strands in frustration. “I’ve been right here. working through shit but I have tried to apologize. you just don’t want to hear it.” he slammed his head against the back of the sofa. “then don’t fucking see me. if I’m so horrible, don’t. all I wanted to talk about was that I wanted to patch things up. oh, and let you know I’ve been going to therapy. that I’m trying to deal with my problems. like you suggested. maybe to show you I’m trying to change. but fuck me, I guess.” and with that, he hung up and whipped his phone across the room.
