Drabble Fifty-Five : Promise Me
Outrunning Chicago's finest isn't as difficult as one would think. They're fast. And yeah, sure, Ian was slowed down by Liam, but a car can't hop fences and quickly board the El. We lost the police and didn't get off at our exit until the fifth time around, just to be on the safe side. While I'm certain that the police who were tailing Ian and I have no clue where we live, it's still risky.
So when we walk through the front door, it's nearly nine o'clock at night. Liam is struggling in Ian's arms. Starving. And he's not the only one. Ian looks white as a sheet and hasn't said more than three words to me. I'm panicky and sick. My body wants another hit already and I refuse to give in to this a second time.
Mandy's on her feet from the sofa the second we walk in. Her legs swing off of Lip's lap fast and she's looking at both of us dead on, teeth bared and fists by her sides. Lip looks equally as pissed off. "What the fuck did you two do?" Mandy screams. "The cops were here for almost an hour!" she screams. "I had to flush all my pills!" she says. And it's not pills my sister's been taking, it's the pills she sells. After the funeral, Mandy apparently found a shit ton of old, not yet expired prescriptions for Percocet and such. She's been selling them for quite a bit and I'm not judging her for it. No one is. So long as I can keep myself out of them, which hasn't been a problem. Hopefully my relapse won't change things. If she had to flush at least four hundred bucks worth of pills, no wonder she's this angry at us.
Ian sighs and spares a sideways glance at me. Pursing his lips and crossing his arms, he looks at the stair, rolls his eyes and says, "Guess they did know who we were."
Mandy growls and cusses incoherently. Lip just shakes his head and stares off into space, beer bottle by his hip. He takes a sip and says, "Chill out, Mandy, I handled it."
"That's not the point!" Mandy snaps, turning on Lip and forgetting about me and Ian. They start arguing. Clearly the two are at odds and my sister's anger has less to do with Ian and I fetching cop trouble than it does with whatever Lip did to get himself in the doghouse.
Ian is quick to sit Liam down and give me a look before we sneak off upstairs.
Once in his room, I finally breath. He falls onto his back atop the bed, holding his face. I give it a minute, leaning on the locked door, before I ask him, "Does this mean we're cool?"
Ian chuckles, deep and throaty. He slowly lets go of his face, arms slapping the bed. And he lays there, stare at his ceiling. Eventually, he breaks the tension, stops my fear, and says, "That depends."
"Depends on what?" I ask, edging toward his bed, hands in my pockets.
He doesn't sit up, doesn't. Doesn't laugh. Just goes, "Are you done with it? Because if you're not, Mickey, I won't put up with it."
The bed creaks as I sit down beside Ian, hands in my lap as I stare at my feet. I know what he wants to hear. Ian wants me to apologize and tell him I won't fuck up again. And hopefully I won't, but it's not a promise I'm going to make. No one's fucking perfect. I sigh, chew my tongue, and look over at him. I don't when this level of comfort passed over the two of us, but it has and I'm for once glad about it. Without letting myself think about what I'm going to do, I lift up and swing half my body over, so that I am straddling Ian's hips. He's stunned, brows knitted, chest hitched. he leans up on his elbows and stares at me. There is fear and confusion in his eyes. Fear probably that I might strike him. Which is stupid. I should think that the level of calm on my face is a tale tale of my current emotion. Blinking down at Ian, I rest my hands on my knees.
"Look," I start, exhaling loudly, "I ain't saying I won't ever fuck up again. How would I know that?"
Things to note about Ian are: he just gets me. I don't have to say much. He just knows things.
"But I'll try, all right?" I say, frowning, heart racing in my chest because what if I've read this wrong and Ian's about to shove me off and throw me out.
Ian looks me over. He swallows and I watch his throat bob. "Why should I believe you?" he asks me, honest.
Reaching up, I rub my lip and say, holding his gaze, "Because nobody's ever gave a shit." I let my eyes trail down his neck and focus on the V of his shirt. I rest my hands there. "Because," I say, "you do, for some fucking reason." A smile tugs at my face and I tilt my head, bunch his shirt collar loosely between my fingers. "And that matters to me. I like being someone's business," I say and he chuckles, shaking me slightly. I breath out, not really sure what to say next. I didn't have an angle with this, and I usually do. I'm never this soft. But the heart beat under my palm makes me ache inside. Ache with something I don't remember having ever felt. A need to prove myself. And not to prove how tough I am, how much I can take, how ruthless I can be. I don't what I feel like proving, but I know it, whatever it is, is solely for Ian.
Ian sits up against me, grabs my waist to steady us, and doesn't break eye contact for even one second. When he leans in, my stomach jumps. Fast, he pushes his face into my neck and presses his lips to my collar bone. Ian stills his mouth. I feel his lashes beat against my neck. My pulse sounds off in my ears. My groin throbs. And I breath out in hot, wet breaths as Ian snakes a hand down the front of my pants. The moan that tries to escape me, I stamp out as Ian pulls his face back and looks up at me. His own small pants hit against my chin.
"Mick," he tells me, "I think I love you."
And that, I hadn't been expecting. I clench my jaw, heart ready to leap out at this point. My stomach turns from my nerves. But no. I won't jump off him and spit something hateful. Not this time. For one, because that would be counter productive. For two, because even though I ain't going to admit to it, maybe I love him too. Just a little. Maybe I've known that for a while.
"Yeah," I say, tight, then swallow.
He presses our lips together. I don't hold back.
NOTE: Well this has been both a headache and fun to write. I'm certainly glad it's over! I hope you guys have enjoyed it XD
Keeping Mickey in character during this last one was truly a challenge. Hopefully I pulled it off.
