Have you ever had one of those moments where, you've just woken up, your mind a blank canvas and possibilities are everywhere, today could be a good day? And then you remember the fuckery that's already been dealt to you. I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, the blue walls are too cheery and calm and my hands curl into fists. I run them over my face and turn onto my stomach, burying my face into my mattress and I scream. Nobody comes, nobody hears, I scream again and I'm towed into the black.
…
Someone opens a drawer. I turn my head and see Caroline pulling out fresh clothes from her drawer. She doesn't look at me. My right arm burns but I make no move to try and soothe it, I don't care, she doesn't look at me.
"Caroline." I try softly. Her reply is to shut her drawer with a hard shove.
"Checks!" A nurse pokes her head in and disappears.
I say her name again but she's done gathering her things and heads for the door, closing it behind her. I'm alone again. I look back at the cheery ceiling and soon I feel her on my face, my melancholy leaving wet kisses on my cheeks.
Someone's rubbing soothing circles on my back.
"Caroline?"
"No sweetie." Vivian says, "You've slept the entire day."
My arm throbs under the covers, good, "Oh."
"I brought you, you're dinner and I'm making sure you're actually awake this time. I did wake you up for breakfast but…" she trails off and sighs, smoothing her hand over my hair, "You're cleaning in the kitchen tomorrow with Violet, every other day until Rebekkah says otherwise. Okay?"
I nod.
"Sweetie, are you alright?"
I stare at her, "How do you fix things?"
"Time. Talking, but mostly time darling."
"I don't have a lot of time." I mutter looking past her.
"I'll bring your pills to you." She says, "Eat first."
She leaves and I notice the tray left on the vanity, I don't want it, so I turn over and go back to nothingness. When I wake again she's holding out the plastic cup with my meds, her lips are pursed and I use my good arm to throw back them and my water back.
….
I wake, unsure why, its darker.
"Are you wanting to add 'anorexic' to your list of diagnonsense?" Hayden murmurs close by. It's dark, really dark and I can hear the TV in the distance. I hear her suck on the end of a cigarette and she exhales so the smoke swirls around my head, "Do you think if you said to the atmosphere, 'I'm ready to die' it would listen? Like properly, you just started counting down…" and she begins to until she gets to one, the number leaving her lips softly, like a bullet in slow motion. My heart doesn't stop beating though, "Guess not."
I roll over and she's lying on her back on the other half of bed, she brings her cigarette to her lips, "Violet spilled to Caroline. She blames me so shits mostly in my fan." She smirks and holds the cig out to me, I reach for it and she grabs my wrist, "Damn…" She examines the bruise in the low light, "That's not pretty."
"What did Violet tell her?" I croak, inhaling after she's released me.
Hayden hums, "Whatever answers she had to her questions."
Oh great.
"How long have you been here Hayden?"
"About ten minutes. You're so pretty when you asleep, so vulnerable" she purrs.
"That's not what I meant." I mumble, I had no energy.
She doesn't answer me right away but takes the cigarette back, "Six years, 6 months…" and the she smirks like she knows a secret. I tuck my legs up tighter to my body.
"Do you think you'll ever leave?"
"No." she says after a while.
"Do you want to?"
She turns on to her side so we're almost nose to nose. My limbs seize up.
"In here we're what make the world go around. People revolve around us, they get up for us and they earn their pennies because of us. The get the satisfaction of thinking they can fix us and as long as we let them think that then, we can live like kings." That didn't make sense, that didn't make sense at all.
"You don't think they can fix us?"
"I can't be fixed." She says, her stale breath fanning my face, "I'm a lifer."
"I want to be fixed." I confess.
She smiles, "But you're a lifer too." My tongue turns to lead and she rolls off the bed, "Confessing your secrets is how you get out of here…and as long as Tate is yours, you're not going anywhere sweetheart."
When I look up my doorways not empty, Caroline's small figure outlines it.
"What did she say to you?" she asks.
"The inevitable." I say and turn my back to her.
I hear her soft footsteps on the lino and the bed creaks as she sits down, "You have to tell them you know."
I don't speak, I don't want her here.
I am a weak ball of energy, a feeble example of evolution, a dead star whose light is still reaching out and eluding everyone who gazes. I want to lie forever, soft and warm and maybe my bones will become a part of the ground and I'll be reborn into nature.
"I can't be your friend if you don't Niamh," her voice tiny and hurt, "I can't keep this secret for you because I want to get better. I want you to get better too, so please tell them. Pease tell them the truth."
It's quiet for a while and my eyes are getting heavier. It's easy to pretend she's not here until she sniffs and speaks softly, "He ruins people. I have never wished anyone dead, not even Elena, but I really wish he were, please don't let him take you to." The beds starting to move, I'm leaving, floating away. I can't control it, even if I wanted to.
"We can help each other, there's so much waiting for you out there…"
That place between sleep and awake.
"I need a friend…"
I guess that's where I wanted to stay, wanted to be.
"You need one too…"
That's where I could be Caroline's friend.
"So tell them."
I could be with Blaine.
"Please."
It's where I could be at peace.
…
It cold, my legs are frozen and chill is spreading up my skin, my neck, it almost tickles. It reaches my nose and I cough and splutter.
"Dad?"
My seatbelts keeping me anchored and I keep my chin up to avoid the water. I wrestle with the strap, I can't get it lose and I can't get a foothold.
"Dad?!"
It's stretching up, I can't stop it, its rising and I take my last breath because this is it. My deaths been sealed as the sea claims the last parts of my skin. Everything's a blur and its dark, I can't breathe and the strap won't come free. "It'll keep you safe." He'd said "And that's all that matters."
I don't want to die, I wanted to travel, I wanted Jesse to take me on dates, I wanted college, I wanted dancing to foreign music in an exotic place, I wanted to hear my mom humming, I wanted to live and it was all speeding away from me.
My chest is collapsing and my lungs are furious…
There's a weird cracking noise and someone yanks my restraint away, pulling me through a jagged hole and I know it's him, I know he's saving me. Light illuminates above us and we have to get to it and I'm fighting with all my limbs to get to the surface and finally it breaks. My lungs inflate with delicious oxygen, I'm saved. I look around for him, but the surface is vast and isolated and I cannot speak. I can't call for him.
The ocean's turned to blood.
My own screaming wakes me up. A part of me knows I'm awake but the nightmares not over, the image is still there in my head, the memories. As the mattress under me becomes more authentic under my grip I hear my door open and someone's trying to soothe me, to pull me out of my own head.
"Niamh, wake up! Wake up!" Blaine orders. I stop screaming but the mattress isn't still under me, it shakes, "Sit up, c'mon, you're okay." He pulls me up and I bury my face in his chest, this was real, this was not a dream. I grasp his arms in attempt to solidify time, I was here, I was not there, "You're okay, I've got you."
My mind begins reeling back and I can concentrate on better things, like how he smells of fresh cotton and cologne and how his hand moves in soft, rhythmic circles on my back and how his jaw line is inches away.
"It wasn't real."
"No, no, it wasn't. You're safe now." He whispers. I inhale slowly and curl up, he places his hand over mine on his chest, it was me that was shaking not the mattress. He draws his other arm around me so I'm almost cradled, I'm safe. I can feel his heartbeat under his white jacket.
"It was real though…once." I murmur and shudder. He puts his other arm around me, drawing me further into safety.
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
Tell him? Talking, sucking people further in, tainting them, killing them. They more you care about people the more you can get hurt. I wanted to draw back into darkness where I couldn't do either, I didn't want to exist, I didn't want to want him, I didn't want to hurt him.
I told him a different truth, "My head hurts."
His hand stills and he sighs, "I'll get you some aspirin."
I cling on to the final moment, of having his body pressed against me protectively, a glimpse of a-could have been, before he untangles himself and leaves. My bed is cold and I pull my sheets around me. The moonlight is the only thing bathing the room, I'm glad he's kept the light off. He comes back and hands me two tablets and a cup of water. He sits on the edge.
"What happened to your arm?" he asks.
Panic prickles up my spine. My lips move but there's no sound.
"Is it Caroline?" he asks but I just can't speak. He looks down and asks quietly, "Was it because I told Rebekkah?"
I shake my head, "You were doing your job."
"Then why?" he sounds angry, "Why did you hurt yourself?"
"I blacked out."
"Why?" he demands.
"Caroline's angry at me and disappointed and just like everybody else, I let everyone down, everyone and I can't stand it."
"How did you let her down?"
"I lied to her."
"About what?"
"I can't tell you." I whisper to the blanket, warmth runs down my face and I wipe my tears away.
"We're friends, you can tell me." He says reaching out to me. I remove my hand from under his.
"No I can't." I sob.
"Why? I want to help as your friend. Not as an orderly, I want to help."
"That's why I can't." I take a deep breath and look up at his handsome face, his expression imploring, "Because you'll be disappointed to."
His green eyes, brighter like they're crystallised in the moonlight, search my face and he draws in breath and I find myself staring at his lips, anticipating, words that don't come. Maybe its moonlight, or the hour, or maybe it was just us but something made time slow down but glancing from his lips back to his eyes something changes. He can't tell me how he can help, I'm beyond it but as the frustration leaves his face, he shows me how he can relieve me from the pain that is myself. In one swift movement he leans across and kisses me. I'm stunned and nearly jolt when his fingertips touch my cheek. His lips are soft but there's a secret urgency, he had his pain too. He draws in a shaky breath and leans his forehead against mine. I finally catch up with what's just happened and tilt my face up to capture his mouth and put my arms around his neck.
It wasn't rushed, it wasn't as if it was thundering towards anything, the thing itself was more spectacular than I remembered and I could do it forever. It was so sweet, like him and I was addicted.
His hand moves from my hip to my waist and I want him closer but he resists. Before my overly sensitive feelings can get hurt he slides his hand down my arm, lightly over the angry bruise and I suddenly get self-conscious. I duck my head as he draws it up and he softly lavishes it with his lips.
"I have to tell about this, it needs seen to." He murmurs against my sore skin.
"Okay."
"Please don't do this again." He pleads looking up at me from under his lashes, "Promise me?"
"I promise." And I meant it, I really did.
I reach out and cup his face. He really was beautiful, my thumbs tracing his cheekbones and he closes his eyes, content. His eyelashes were thick, girls would kill for them and when he opens them something stirs in my chest. I pull his face back to mine and he slides a hand into my hair.
A door opens down the ward.
We immediately break apart.
"I have to go." He murmurs, looking torn between me and the door. I nod because what else could I do? He traces me cheekbone with his knuckles and then puts them under my chin to tilt my head up to graze his lips against mine.
"Blaine." I call and he looks over his shoulder, hand on the door knob, "Don't love me, I'll ruin you."
"I think that ship has sailed." he says and the door clicks shut.
His words replay in my head until they don't sound real, they sound like I've made them up. In the dark anything's possible and impossible makes a lot of sense. My heads swimming and I fall asleep hugging my pillow wishing it smelled like fresh cotton.
…
"Up!" A female voice snaps.
I groan and pull my pillow over my head, "Five more minutes." It's yanked out of my grasp and I'm hauled up by Rebekkah, "What the fuck!"
"Arm." She demands. Well… know she's mentioned it… it fucking burns.
I hold it out to her and she takes it tenderly between her own. Frowning she says, "Moira get me lotion and her normal dose of aspirin."
I hadn't noticed the other body by the door.
"Why did you do this?" she asks quietly.
"You're a nurse, not a shrink." I growl.
She glances up with hard steel in her gaze, "It is my business to find out or we'll have to have you strapped down. So I'll ask you again, why did you do this?"
I grit my teeth, "Caroline's angry with me. She's rooming with Violet."
"Don't blame me for this!" Caroline whines from the doorway.
I glare at her and Rebekkah looks between us, "Caroline will you fetch Niamh's breakfast please; it should be coming up to the station."
"Don't spit in it." I snap. Caroline's face goes blank and she regards me with an indignant expression. She stalks away. Oh fuck.
Moira delivers Rebekkah's requests and leaves. I want to go back to sleep, I don't want to deal with anyone or anything.
"Why is she upset with you?" she asks, gently glazing my arm with lotion.
"I lied." I answer.
"About?"
Well that I could never say.
"Why are you grinning?"
"I lied to you as well."
Her eyebrows knit together and my grin melts away. Caroline comes in and places the tray down; I know it's her by the print on her skirt. A cool hand cups my forehead, "Have you been sleeping?"
"No she hasn't." Caroline answers for me. She sounds so angry, it's on her face too, but she must sense my regret because her expression becomes soft.
"Put on some clothes, I'll take you to Dr. Harmon." Rebekkah concludes and I wince as she fastens her bandage, "I fear your spiralling."
She leaves, leaving the door ajar, it seems such effort to get up.
"You look awful." Caroline tells me.
"Same as how I feel." I reply putting one foot on the floor.
"Are you going to tell him?" I don't reply and pull out some clothes, "They don't match." She says taking them from my hands and replacing them with something else.
"Thanks."
Caroline kneels in front of me, "Did you really do that because of me?"
"No. I didn't it because I let you down and nothing makes sense anymore." My head begins to throb and I rub my temple. I jerk when a shadow moves past Caroline's head, but there's nothing there.
She looks where I do but turns back to me, "But it used to, you were doing so well. It's him Niamh, you've let him in." I feel guilty, I feel so incredibly guilty, "You have to tell them."
The throbbing gets worse and I pull away, "I have to go."
…
"We weren't scheduled until tomorrow afternoon." Ben says, I realise he's holding a cigarette out to me. I take it, "You look like you need this."
He flips open his note pad and I light up, the nicotine rushes to my head and fights the throbbing.
"Why don't you tell me what happened to your arm?"
"Maybe one of my imaginary friends did it." I muse bitterly.
"Imaginary friends?" he repeats, scribble, scribble.
I glare at him, "I blacked out."
"And what triggered this blackout?"
I felt like was on spinning ride and it was making me nauseous. The same questions, round and round. "Me and Caroline aren't on great terms."
"Whys that?"
"I'm friends with people she doesn't like."
"I see." Sribble, scribble, "Why doesn't she like them?"
"She thinks there not good for me."
"And you disagree?"
"I'm confused. They make everything seem…as I used to know it. It's easier. It makes sense."
"If it makes sense then why does Caroline have such a problem?"
"Because it's not… right." I test.
"It's not right but it's easier?"
"Yes."
Scribble, scribble.
"Well, having your comfortable illusion makes it hard to hear the truth." I grit my teeth, shut up, shut up, shut up, "And since this disagreement the headaches have come on a lot stronger?"
"I hadn't had one in a while."
Scribble, Scribble.
"Mr. Anderson also alerted me to you having a disturbance in your sleep."
My chest crumples in on itself and flexes, I cough and rub my hand across it, "Nightmare."
"About?"
The pause is very long, "My dad. The day he died."
"I'm sorry for your loss." He says gently, "that must have been a very hard thing to share, thank you." I dig my nails into the leather armrests and try to tune out his condolences and views on death.
"You had a very rough night." He concludes after a while.
"Hm."
"So these friends Caroline disapproves of, what makes them not right?"
"They're manipulative." My voice was small. I was frightened somewhere Tate's ears were burning.
"So you agree they're manipulative and not 'right'…then why still be friends with them?"
"Everyone needs someone."
"Does that someone need you as much as Caroline does? Do you need them?"
I think about how Caroline was when I got here, deprived, starving… lonely and maybe, if I hadn't come she'd be dead by now. I shudder. And Tate? He may or may not love me…doesn't that bind me to him in someway? I'm responsible for that feeling, I can't hurt him just because this wasn't what I wanted because what if I did hurt him…he'd want to hurt me back.
"When Caroline was under stricter supervision you were so concerned and now this dispute has triggered wrist banging and nightmares. What do you think about that?"
"I let her down." I say almost inaudible.
"There's more to this story…" he presses.
"She doesn't like Tate Langdon much." I tell him, peering up from where I've hunched over my knees.
His curious face collapses and he repeats the name. I nod.
"When did you meet Tate?"
"Yesterday. I was on kitchen duty for Halloween stuff…"
"Tate does not have clearance to be in the kitchens." He says flatly and scrapes his chair back, "Excuse me one moment."
He disappears out the door and I wonder about Tate. What was he cleared for? What wasn't he not allowed to do? What was his diagnonsense?
Then I'm pulling out the drawers of bens desk, rifling through papers. I get to the section noted 'L' in the next drawer, passing 'Lockwood, Tyler' with something in red stamped on the front, I finally touch on 'Langdon'.
It was a thin folder. Ben must have things summarized or have only recent reports because Tate's folder in Klaus' office was three times as big. I hold it on my lap and flex my fingers before opening it.
Tate Langdon.
Supervised - Restricted
Three to one.
Date of admission: 1969
Overview 10.15.79: Increasing highs and lows, deluded beliefs, no positive response to meds, Cationic states frequent (at night), altering moods more frequent.
Overview of diagnoses analysed 10.15.79:
Psychotic disorder.
Shock therapy recommended.
APPROVED.
I stare at the paper in my hands and try and apply the words to reality. This described Tate as completely unstable and out of his mind, like it would be impossible to be near him. Bullshit. It was all bullshit. I hear voices in the hall and I tuck the paper back before darting around his desk.
Ben enters and right behind him is Klaus.
"This is very important, love." Klaus says kneeling in front of me and staring at me intensely over his sharp cheekbones. I wanted to shrivel into the chair, my heart started having palpitations, "Tell me everything Tate Langdon said to you yesterday afternoon."
So I did. Mostly, he'd said afternoon not 'ever'.
"Do you remember anything about the nurse?" he asks, he never seemed to blink.
"Her name was Florence or something, Blaine would know."
"Did he take anything from the kitchen? Anything at all?"
"No. I didn't see him take anything."
"Positive?"
"Yes."
He stands in one quick motion, turning to face Ben whose arms are crossed as he listens, "Call Ward B and have Rebekkah come with Blaine Anderson to my study. Find out who's monitoring him today and who was on duty yesterday. I want him in solitary and his cell searched. Look for disturbances in the brick work."
What the hell was going on?
"Niamh, my apologies your sessions been cut short today. It's disruptive but necessary."
I just nod as he exits like the hounds of hell are snapping at his feet. Ben calls a nurse to take me back, all the while I wonder if I've done something very wrong. Moira leads me in as Blaine and Rebekkah exit. She nods and behind her Blaine's looks troubled, he gives me a sad smile as he passes. I realize then he thinks I've told them about us, about him and that his life was just about to crumble down around him. I want to call after him but Moira pushes me inside.
"Hey sexy." Hayden sings, spinning past on her chair. She then starts a game of blocking an orderly's path who's carrying a tray of meds.
"Hayden cut that out!"
She laughs and pushes herself away from the nurse so it turns into a chase. She leaps out of her chair kicks it over so the nurse trips in her wake. She bounces over to us and Moira tries to threaten her, she ignores her.
"So what going on, you cough up a big one?" She says bearing over me. I shake my head as two nurses try and reach for her but she uses me to block them, taking me by the arms she pulls me along with her, "Really? Because you went off and suddenly it's all stations in here!"
She lets me go and jumps up onto the couch as a nurse stumbles trying to get a grip on her dingy shirt.
"I'm not staring shit up, see me and Caroline shared a look, see, yep, there it is again, which told me we thought the same thing." Hayden tells me dodging the other nurse and ignoring the threats of Moira. She vaults over the sofa, "Was it to do with that monstrosity on your arm? Feeling guilty about something?"
"Leave it alone Hayden." Caroline says.
"Your arm?" Violet asks.
"Maybe I'm sick of secrets to." Hayden announces putting her hands on her hips, giving up her escapism efforts.
Pain seared through my head, I needed aspirin, and everyone needed to shut up.
"I think I hit a nerve." Hayden observes as Moira and an orderly take her by the arms, "Oh lead me away then." And she starts singing loudly.
I grip the chair as the room sways, "I need aspirin."
"What happened? Are you okay?" Caroline whispers.
"I need-"
"What is the matter?" A nurse barks.
"Nothing, she's fine."
I can't focus and the pain moves behind my eyes and they're bickering at my ears, Hayden's still singing.
"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" I scream and bat them both away and go back to my room.
I breathe deeply, rubbing my temples as the pain resides. The room is cool and it helps, I rest my forehead on my knees as Caroline comes in.
"What can I do?" She asks helplessly, "They said it hasn't been written up for you to get any more medication today."
"Nothing, nothing. Go away." I mumble into my thighs, I wrap my arm around myself.
"I want to help."
"You can't help me!" I snap.
"Violet might have cigarettes…"
"GO AWAY CAROLINE!" I scream sitting up. Her pretty features look stricken, her big blue eyes glaze over.
"I know you're mad but you had to tell them…but I thought nothing happened between you Blaine…"
She thought I'd told them about him to, ruined his life. Despite me having told her nothing had happened, nothing had happened yet but she didn't trust me. This place was suffocating.
"Fuck off Caroline. Just fuck off and be someone else's friend."
It's silent for a while as the words seep into her, and then she closes the door with a sob. I didn't care, I didn't care. It hurts to care. I rock back and forth trying to cradle the pain in my head, so it doesn't become irritated and throw a tantrum.
….
The rooms got significantly colder. I lean up and peer around the room, its dark…I'd been sitting like this for a few hours. My back stiffs and I wince sitting up to examine my arms…they were stiff to. I hadn't harmed myself… that was good. Caroline's bed was empty… she'd left me, she wasn't here.
I get under my cold covers and try to lose myself somewhere else but I can't, I get trapped in the in-between so it takes me a while to realize there are fingertips on my cheeks. Tate's looking down at me, eyes wide and alive, "Still believe they're full of shit?"
I nod.
He takes a shuddering breath and twitches, "Wanna leave?"
I nod.
He only allows me to grab a coat and pull on shoes. I don't have any money but he says it doesn't matter. We go into the tunnels and I wonder whether I should have left a note but what would it matter? I was going and I was not coming back, I would be forgotten and it would be simple. Blaine would have nothing to worry about and Caroline would get better. Tate needed me, and his cold hand in mine wouldn't leave.
"Are you okay?" I ask as we come to a cluttered little room, piled with boxes and old mattresses.
"They gave me shocks again." He replies in soft whisper. His eyes were still big and he was blinking a lot. He looked so fragile and vulnerable, a shudder running through his body. It's like electricity was still cackling below the surface, "I have to get out of here."
They'd hurt him, they'd tied him down and tried to scorch out whatever hurt he had. They'd tried to cure him by hurting him. I nod quickly to show him I understand, I'd go with him and I'd heal him. I'd listen, nobody really wants to listen, that's where hurt comes from, loneliness, maybe I could understand him.
"Will you stay with me?" he asks in tight voice.
"Yes."
His lips are grateful but urgent. He shudders again and I place my hands on his shoulders in an effort to still him.
"I'm so glad I have you." He breathes, resting his forehead against mine, "Let's go."
He moves the musty mattresses aside to reveal an worn metal door, it screeches as he pulls it open. Steep concrete steps lie behind it, going up to the outside world. He holds his hand out to me and I silently say goodbye to Caroline and Blaine as I slide mine into his.
…
We run for what seems forever, Michelson's becomes a small house in the distance and I know we're way past the long stretch of road that is its garden path. We come to a slope that leads down onto a road, cars come past sporadically due to the hour. Tate pulls be down behind him and releases my hand to flag down an oncoming car.
I take it as a sign that its hippy van and Tate lets out a relieved smile as he pulls open the side door, allowing me in first. There are two guys in the front both, the drivers wearing a bulging beanie and his companion has long ginger dreads. The smell of weed mixed with the warmth is comforting. I slouch down in my seat and grin at the roof of the van which is decorated with glow stickers.
"Hey, little lady." The guy next to the driver greets me smiling and then his eyes rest on Tate, "You guys lose your ride?"
"Car broke down a while back, been walking for a few. Sure appreciate the lift." He says smoothly throwing his arm around me.
"Where ya headed man?" The driver asks without turning around.
"As far as you'll take us."
"The great open road, allowing your path to be guided by the universe. That's a great way to live man, I like it." The guy avows lazily, toking on his joint.
"You know it brother." Tate grins, kissing the top of my head and I cuddle into his side.
"Let love and sound take you away man." The guy exhales, passing the joint back to Tate. He inhales and cups my face to his, exhaling the euphoric smoke into my mouth.
"War is over if you want it." Tate quotes and I gaze up at the greenish peace signs and think he's right.
…
I grin enjoying Tate and the guy who introduces himself as Ryan, joke and talk about John Lennon. I don't know how long we'd been driving but I loved speeding through the night with the lights passing by outside.
"This is our stop." The driver announces cheerfully as we veer to the right and comes to a stop. Florescent pink light streams in the windows, carrying music with it. We're at a bar.
"It's been an honour travelling with you guys." Ryan says shaking Tate's hand.
"Appreciate it." Tate returns hopping out the side and holding his hand out to me, "Where are we?"
"Carlsbad man." Ryan says sounding gleefully spaced out and he and his friend disappear inside.
"Now what?" I ask Tate. He grins down at me.
"Let's enjoy freedom." And he pulls me inside the smoky place.
…
I feel on top of the damn world. The music's great. I'm a little drunk. I'm dancing and I'm pretty sure the smoke in the air is not all a result of nicotine. Ryan hands me another beer when I'm in mid twirl and I take it.
"Where's Tate?" I ask him, laughing.
"He went with John into the back." He replies passing me the last draws of his cigarette.
I continue spinning and drinking until I can't anymore and fall back into the chair. Ryan sits down beside me. Something wet tickles my cheeks and I giggle.
"What?" he asks and it happens again. I realize he's trying to kiss me.
"Stop that." I mutter and push him away.
"It's all cool." He says reaching for me again but he's ripped from the couch and Tate has him up by his collar. His eyes are murderous and his white face is hard. I feel like I'm watching a movie as he snarls something before punching him.
"Tate!" I call as he gets carried away, laying into Ryan, which triggers everyone else. Soon everyone's fighting. I press myself up against the wall as I start coming down from whatever high I'm on. Tate appears in front of me and takes me hand, dragging me outside. The cold airs relieving.
"He wasn't… I wasn't" I try to explain but he spins around and out his hand over my mouth.
"Your mine." He tells me, and that's the end of it.
We walk for a while, his fingers lace threw mine, his hands were always cold. I hadn't realised we'd stopped until I collided with his chest, he tilts my face up.
"You're tired?"
I shake my head in agreement. His hand smoothes over my hair and I bury my face in his chest.
"There's a motel over there." He murmurs.
"We haven't any money." I groan.
When he doesn't respond I pull back to look up at him, he digs into his pocket and pulls out a wallet and some crumpled notes.
"I'm going to look after you." He murmurs, kissing my temple.