Summary: He’s so sure that he’s undeserving of your love that he’s willing to push you away to prove his own point.
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, (more angst than fluff)
A/n: Inspired by Half a Man by Dean Lewis. Something Angsty cause that’s what I’ve been feeling like writing lately lol sorry
The city, much like him, never sleeps.
It’s one of those things he both loves and hates about living in the tower.
The sounds of the city keep him up on dark nights, but they comfort him on the restless nights, providing a warm embrace and letting him know that he isn’t the only one awake, the only one alive.
Tonight it’s different though. The city lights and the bustling sounds of traffic isn’t bringing him the comfort he wants, he so craves.
Neither is the bourbon he’s been drinking like water, but it’s the concept that matters.
An empty bottle is strewn at his feet, a second one, only a third full, is standing next to it, and a glass of the amber liquid is held tightly in his metal hand, his flesh one shaking far too much to hold anything.
He’s not sure what he did to deserve you, but he knows that he very well destroyed whatever was blossoming.
The beautiful flower of something -not quite love, not yet- was crushed in his fist and dropped at your feet, and he’s not sure if he’ll forgive himself or allow you to forgive him.
The events of the night play on repeat, from the moment he woke up screaming, thrashing in the bed that’s become both of yours, to now.
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