There had never been any expectations when it came to their relationship, Cole was never the type to push at anything. It had all started out as something fun, a means to enjoy each other’s company without putting unnecessary stress or tension onto the relationship. But somewhere along the line they had stopped introducing each other as friends, and had progressed to so much more. As the weeks turned to months, easily surpassing that year mark, Cole had figured their relationship had reached a point that called for taking that next step. There had been no expectation, no need for her to agree to move in with him. So when the news reached his ears, it felt like a physical slap in the face. A blow that left him reeling for days, trying to wrap his head around where he had gone wrong. “A white lie here or there,” he repeated her words with a scoff, rolling his eyes almost immediately. It was baffling that she could so easily downplay what she had done, what she continued to do. A nearly two year long relationship shattered and broken because she hadn’t been brave enough to take that next step. It wasn’t simply her breaching uncharted territory, for she was the first true girlfriend that he had ever had in his life. All through high school he was considered the bad boy, the delinquent, Clay Brager’s younger brother. He was good enough to fuck behind the bleachers, in the bathroom stall, but it all only went so far. Nic was the first girl he’d cared to get close to, the first one that knew what feeling like an outcast in one’s own family felt like.
In the end, it would never matter. Anything that he ever said to her, she would easily have a counter argument, a retort that would leave him fuming. She knew how to play the game much better than he did. There were plenty of days, even more nights that he came to the conclusion he needed to cut her off. That he needed to finally severe the last remaining holds that she had on him, and move forward with his life. But one carefully worded text, one phone call made at the perfect moment would send him right back into her clutches. He was like an addict, and she was the fix he so desperately desired. And she goddamn well knew it. She would dangle it in front of him, give him just enough of a taste that would ensure he’d be crawling back for more. How pathetic had he become, how transfixed with her that he could see how toxic it had all become. “Really? All I remember is leaving your place less than satisfied,” he quipped with a thoughtful look upon his features. But it wouldn’t last, it never did. The anger returned when she so easily maneuvered around him, finding the next button to push while he was still focused on the last. His eyes danced across her features, ones that he had memorized while she slept beside him, tracing tattoos gently with his fingertips. Does it matter? The question bit into him, but it was her carefully planned following ones that spun that hurricane up inside of him. You miss me. Every fucking day, every fucking night; but all he could think of was how she had betrayed him, how she had slipped into the bed of that Black Wolves member with little care to what it would do to him. His lips twitched into a sneer, his fingers tightening around her wrist ( though he would always be careful not to hurt her ), “Fuck you, Nic.” He practically hissed the words, his free hand coming up to grip fingers across her jaw. He was sick of listening to her twist around words, bating him with just the right ones. Stepping forward, he forced her backwards, moving them until she was caught between the cement wall and his body. “Fuck you,” he growled again, staring down into her features, his hand slipping from her jaw across her neck, fingers splayed out across her collarbone.
It was as if he’d been blinded by the kind of person she might have been, despite the fact that she’d never hid it at all. It had always been there in plain sight, and yet now that he’d learnt what it was like to fall victim to her near instinctive ability to poison everything she touched, he, like so many people before him, played it off as if it was something personal. And even if that were the case, she’d never claim it to have been personal, but neither could she deny that she’d done what she had with the distinct intent to hurt him, and she’d long since known how to do it. He’d offered her something that she’d never considered, something that her adoptive family had never extended to her, something concrete. And even after two years, she still struggled to swallow back the idea that he’d wanted so much from her. But much like a wounded animal, it had been far too easy to lash out rather than deal with the burning hurricane of uncertainty that had swirled in her chest. When she was younger it was deafening, but as she grew older, she soon accepted it for what it was, and now it tore it’s way through her almost silently, a long forgotten aspect of her life that she barely paid mind to. Her white lies had turned black, grown beyond something harmless, and she’d never thought to care, not even when Cole had done exactly as she’d hoped he would and leave --- to rescind his offer of something more, something that would have changed everything for them. Complacency wasn’t what she’d wanted --- she hadn’t wanted comfort or certainty, it festered and created a kind of contentment that didn’t suit either her or Cole, at least in her mind. The push and pull of anger that emanated from his chest whenever she was around was what they needed --- it kept them alive, even if Cole could swear black and blue that there wasn’t anything there anymore.
Perhaps what had been his downfall had been being so open with her, giving her every ability to hurt him and thinking that she never would. It had long since been built into her dna to do just that. Questionable morals, questionable friends, she was never a saint, and until it stopped, she’d twist whatever she could in her favor to keep Cole coming back. He could try all he liked, Nic was more than aware that he just couldn’t quit her. Where she might have otherwise claimed it to be pathetic, it was what she’d wanted --- this had always been what she’d wanted, only he’d wanted more. Would he have accepted the simplicity of her turning down the idea of moving in together without question? Or would that have triggered their descent into something more chaotic regardless of whether she cheated on him or not. Cole hadn’t pushed, but she could only wonder if he wouldn’t have found a way to resent her for it anyway. An airy huff of laughter pierced through pursed lips, “And yet you keep coming back.” He could claim dissatisfaction all he wanted, until he was blue in the face, she knew better. It wasn’t hard to miss, the shift in features from toying, trying to play off everything she said as if it didn’t matter, or perhaps she simply knew what to look for. It mattered --- all of it mattered to him, and like another puzzle piece, it fell into place over and over again. There wasn’t anyone she’d rather piss off more. It felt so familiar, his palm outstretched across her jaw, a barely there flit of a smirk tugging at her own lips before the jar of movement had her backing up against the building. Pure force of habit had her hips meeting his as he pressed forward into her, the slip of his hand across her collarbone only proving further how frustrated she made him. Despite his all too clear distaste, she hooked a fingertip into the hem of his jeans, dark hues catching his from beneath lashes, “You miss me, Cole.” It wasn’t goading this time -- she already garnered the reaction she’d wanted, instead her voice lowered, almost breaking against the light whisper of certainty, her hair catching on the brick as her head tilted just slighty to both look up at him, and pave the way for his palm against her.
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