22 26 or 30 for ways u said i love + deximbits or Nurseydex - ur choice
Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave
Bitty’s visiting Lardo, again. The expansion draft didn’t turn out the way they wanted. Now Jack’s stuck in New Orleans, Bitty’s angry or sad more than he’s actually around, and Dex is just—stuck. Stuck in an apartment too large for one person in a city he barely knows. He spent so much time unpacking and decorating when they first moved here, now it feels like a waste. He thinks about how long it would take to box everything up, and ship it down South.
Dex’s working a lot of overtime lately. He works until his supervisor or HR kick him out. He calls his family a lot. They’ve started asking what wrong.
“You should come visit,” Dylan told him the other day. “Portland’s fucking beautiful right now.”
Maybe there was more Jack could’ve done, or more Dex should’ve said before Jack told his agent he was ready for anything. Dex just assumed that Providence wouldn’t let go of their most valuable player.
Dex makes dinner. It’s some rustic new age twist on empanadas from that food delivery subscription Jack got Bitty a while back. He doesn’t feel like putting the TV or record player on. Background noise has gotten too cold lately, forced and completely artificial. The clanking of his fork keeps him company. The meal is supposed to feed four. Dex packs away the rest in the fridge; he’ll have leftovers for lunch.
He runs five blocks to the gym, lifts weights for a while. He runs to a cafe he found the other week when he got lost. He orders a tea because he’s sick of staring at the unused nespresso machine at home. He finds a corner table where he can rest his head against a bookshelf.
Dex takes a long sip of the chamomile tea with almond milk. It tastes like sunshine and something sturdy yet warm. He closes his eyes, wiping a stray tear away from his eye. He sits in a crowded room for a while, letting the hum of happy people take him somewhere else. Like maybe a stadium in New Orleans or an apartment in Boston with friends who are hardly his anymore.
He walks home slowly, tugging on the drawstrings of his borrowed Falcs hoodie. He vacuums for the fourth time that week. He reads another chapter of Les Mis because it’s Jack’s favorite book, and then watches Sweet Home Alabama until it’s time for bed.
The next morning he calls in sick.
He stares at the apartment for what feels like hours but only adds up to twenty minutes. He packs a suitcase. He starts grabbing clothing for a weekend in Portland. Next thing he knows, he has enough clothing to last him a month. Dex feels a shake in his breath. He takes a few extra flannels he knows don’t belong to him; he rips a jersey off it’s hanger. He takes the stuffed rabbit that’s been collecting dust on the beside table, shoving it into his backpack. He sits on the suitcase so everything will actually fit.
He grabs the thickest winter coat that isn’t his. He storms out of the bedroom. A light glares in his eye. Dex turns his head. It’s the picture of the three of them in Montreal last summer. He throws it so hard across the living room, it shatters against the back wall.
Dex hears a gasp to his right. He pales. He pulls his suitcase toward the door, eyes not meeting Bitty’s.
He feels hands clutching at the coat he’s wearing. Dex refuses to look.
“I’m going to Portland,” Dex explains. “Dylan said I could crash there for a while.”
Bitty moves closer. “Baby—”
“You know the worst part?” he says, barely above a whisper. “You miss Jack. But I miss you too.”
“Baby.” Bitty’s voice cracks. “You don’t have to—”
“Eric,” Dex says firmly. “I can’t right now. I just—can’t.”
“I love you,” he says. “I love you so much. I’m sorry. I never wanted—I was just so mad about things that don’t matter. I’m sorry.”
“That’s ok,” Dex assures him softly.
Bitty nods, biting his lip as he reluctantly lets go. Dex moves toward the door.
“I love you,” Bitty says one more time.
“You can’t even ask me to stay,” Dex says before he leaves.
Bitty doesn’t go after him. Dex breaks down in a train station bathroom. He buys a ticket heading south, unsure if it’ll make a difference.
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