he’s drunk and angry - not the best combination. the bar
had been chosen as a distraction. the vivacious brunette
drinking alone was meant to get his mind off of andy. but
low and behold, even with the stranger’s lips pressed to
his neck, he could only think of lazy mornings, tangled
limbs - of how the last time he was here, he had her
bent over in the bathroom, sprawled out in the backseat
of his car. the girl is hot. he should be into it. instead,
he’s thinking of the chick that’s blowing him off - that
won’t answer his calls, his voicemails, his texts.
—— what the hell had she done to him? this wasn’t bellamy.
he wasn’t clingy. he wasn’t needy. and if she didn’t want
anything to do with him, that was fine. so be it. he just
wished she had the courtesy to tell him so, instead of
cutting off contact completely. he honestly was starting
to think something had happened to her, until octavia
reported she had seen her out and about. perfectly fine.
detaching himself from the woman, he’s in a rush to
pay his tab and stumble into the parking lot. he fumbles
with his car keys, knowing he shouldn’t get behind the
wheel, but also not wanting to call octavia to pick him
up. he didn’t want her to see him in this state, liquor
pungent on his breath.
he fumbles with his car keys in his pocket as he debates,
fingertips brushing over his phone instead. he needs
somewhere to direct his agitation, and where better
than the girl who pissed him off in the first place?
closure would help. then he could get over her.
it takes him longer than it should to find her name in
his phone, and to type out a text message, checking
it at least five times for any typos. he didn’t need her
to know that he was resorting to alcohol.
TEXT → ANDY
( 2:46AM ) fuck you. we’re done.
the past week or so had been a series of convincing lies.
while avoid glancing in the mirror for too long, in fear that
she would flinch at her own reflection. what she was doing
to bellamy blake was wrong, she knew that. she knew that
she was hurting him, that she would continue to hurt him.
mostly, she wanted him to move on. to find someone that
made me happier, calmer. andromeda didn't think herself
to be good for him at all.
yes, she had the line of communication rather suddenly.
because she didn't think he would care (this didn't justify
her point, obviously).
she should be sleeping. long legs are reclined
beneath her sheets but she's staring up at the
ceiling. there's a dull ache in her temples, the
kind that comes with avoiding rest for far too
long. she's not even thinking.
her phone buzzing next to her, screen nearly
lighting up the entire room. when she reaches
for it, she doesn't count on the suddenly
dropping feeling in the very pit of her stomach.
it's right there, staring her in the face. a choice.
she could ignore it; turn away from the phone and
curl up under the covers. pretend that it doesn't hurt,
pretend that this was for the best. he didn't need her;
he deserved better. but her thumbs move on their
own, tapping against the screen slowly.
[ SMS : bellamy blake. ]
2:50 AM
for what it's worth, i didn't
want to hurt you. i'm sorry.
whether he believed her or not, this is not how she wanted
this to go. and in all truth, andromeda did miss him. he was
incredibly easy to be around. he made her feel cared for, at
ease. and even if they couldn't go a few minutes without
keeping their hands off of one another, there was something
special in that. there was something in his warmth that she
missed. how his mouth nestled against the crook of his neck,
hands resting on her abdomen --- it was familiar. andromeda
had no idea what to prepare herself for with that text, if
anything at all. but she set her phone down, turning
over to bury her face in he pillow.
germansingergirl
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