NOTE: emotional rollercoaster of a chapter. Strap in. Also, please don't hate me.
The next chapter is gonna be Darcy's POV, and it MIGHT be even more angst. Fair warning.
This hurts me just as much as it hurts you :(
"Are you drunk?" was Will's first question.
Lizzy looked up, up, up at him. He was tall, she thought. Taller than her, though she was slumped against the bar, and so it really wasn't an accurate comparison. But still, her mom used to say that she was a fairy child, because she was so small. Her father would call her an imp.
But Will hadn't asked if she was an imp, he was asked.. if she was.. something. Something about height?
"I'm short," Lizzy answered, confidently, taking a sip of water. The glass was empty. Darn.
Will nodded, the messy curls of his forehead lifting up then diving down with the motion of his head. "Okay, yup, okay," he said, licking his lips. His tongue was very pink. "And.. where did you say your friend was?"
Lizzy peered at him through the neon gloom. "Char left with the Denny guy and I dunno where anyone else is." She perked up a little. "Ooh! Can I say bye 'fore we go?"
"Can you stand?" Will asked skeptically. One of his eyebrows was twitching upwards, like a faulty elevator on his forehead. Lizzy frowned up at the eyebrow.
"Yes, I can," she said, trying to sound more sober than she was, "I can walk just fine."
Before Will could tell her how embarrassing and stupid and immature and ugly she was, Lizzy vaulted off the bar and filtered into the crowd. He called something after her, but Lizzy would not be the loser in this tag-game. She had to find Wickham and say goodbye before Will ruined all the fun and took her home and put her to bed and would they share a sleeping bag again? Hm.
Lizzy's legs weren't working. They were like crusty jelly, both wobbly and stiff. She doubted she would be able to stand, had it not been for the crush of bodies around her, keeping her stable.
Will may have been following her, but Lizzy was looking for gel-hair, not curl-hair. She found Wickham near the center of the crowd, dancing with Mariah King.
"Hey Wick!" Lizzy shouted, waving from less than a foot away. "Hey Mari!"
They turned to her. Mariah smiled— she was nice, for an ex-girlfriend. Wickham grinned bigger though, and gave her a quick once over.
"I can't tell if you're more sober or more drunk," he quipped.
Lizzy laughed, then stopped. "Dunno if we'll EVER know," she said, despondently, "I gotta go home."
"Oh, hey, let me walk you home," Wickham said gallantly, detaching herself from Mariah.
"Nononononononono NO," Lizzy mumbled, pressing a finger to Wickham's nice mouth. "I gotta go NOW. My friend is a DOWNER. He won't like you, so you gotta be hidin. Hiden. Hide. You know what I mean."
Mariah laughed. "Wow Lizzy, you really are hammered!"
She smiled at her old friend, but her attention was on Wickham, who looked disappointed. "So, I'll see you later then?"
"Yeah, later," she nodded a few times. "Drop by the store! We can catch up and eat donuts and it'll be fun!"
"Okay," he chuckled, steadying her a little with his arm. "And maybe go out again sometime?"
"Mayyybe," Lizzy hummed, "But I don't want relationship right now, Wick. Jus' to be clear."
His grin didn't diminish, but his mossy eyes grew a little more serious. "Got it."
"Ssseeeee you around!" Lizzy said, before turning back and stumbling through the crowd again. She saw Will standing there, arms crossed, by the bar. She made her way over to him.
"BYE LIZZY!" Wickham's voice cut through the crowd.
"BYE, WICKHAM!" Lizzy yelled back.
Then she sidled up to Will, acting like her legs weren't about to give out under her. "Hiya friend-o," she smiled.
His face was red— and Lizzy wasn't sure it was from the club lights. "Wickham," he asked, his voice cutting through the air like a cleaver, "Your friend was Jorge WICKHAM?"
Lizzy, in her drunken state, hesitated. Will seemed upset. Was he mad at her? Mad at Wickham? Mad he wasn't invited— what? Did she do something wrong or did he just not like Wickham. And he was looking at her— what should she say?
"No," she tried.
Will's face was impassive in the neon darkness. His brown eyes reflected purple flickers of concern, delving into frustration and fear.
"Stay away from Jorge Wickham," his voice said, "He's not your friend."
"Psshhhh," Lizzy scoffed, smiling, "He's not my friend; he's my bar buddy! Or was. Past tense. We're leaving now. Right?"
She made her way to the door, pulling Will along so she could lean on him. His face was twisted up with emotion as he held her upright, and walked quickly to the door.
"Jorge Wickham is the kind of man that makes friends easily," Will said, his teeth clenched as they reflected the light of the club, "But I don't think I've ever seen him keep friends very long."
He turned to Lizzy, his eyes equal parts accusatory and frantic. "Wait, you didn't let him near your drink, did you?"
Lizzy's frown deepened. Will was being a.. he was overreacting. He probably didn't even know Wickham! He hadn't tried to put moves on her the rest of the night, after she said she wasn't interested. He was flirty, but respectful. Will clearly didn't know what he was talking about.
Still, it couldn't hurt to pacify him.
"No," Lizzy said, as solemnly as she could.
"Oh thank God," Will breathed. Lizzy briefly felt bad about lying to him, but he was wrong about Jorge, and besides, Will immediately started berating her. Mean.
"You shouldn't spend the night with guys you just met. You shouldn't drink so much if you're alone. You shouldn't stay out so late."
"You're not my MOM," Lizzy grumbled.
She wanted to move away from Will's mean words, but her legs had followed through with their threat. They wouldn't work— paralyzed. Grrrr. She really shouldn't have drunk so much. Why had she gone out tonight? Oh yeah!
"This is all your fault," Lizzy informed, glowering, her words only slurring a little.
"My fault?" Will asked, mystified. "How is any of this my fault?"
They were almost to his car. Tesla. Because of course he was rich. Because why not. Will was pretty much carrying her at this point, and he opened the car door to usher her in. Lizzy waited until he had climbed in the driver's seat to explain.
"You," she said, "you made me need to go out."
"Now how would I do that," Will asked patiently, condescendingly.
Lizzy glared at him, then relented. She looked down at her hands. "By making me sad," she admitted.
She didn't see Will's face, but when he spoke his voice sounded strained. "I.. made you sad?"
"Yeah," Lizzy murmured, "You were bein' all nice and sweet, then started avoiding me. Like.. like you hated me. I don't want you to hate me. I don't…"
She finally looked over at him, hating herself for having tears in her eyes. Will's face was soft and delicate, eyes wide, open to the world. Half of his face was lit up by the green neon side outside the car. His pale skin looked so smooth. His lips were slightly parted.
Then Lizzy thought, fuck it.
She grabbed the sides of his face and pulled Will into her. Her lips collided with his mouth, and she kissed him with a sloppy desperation. She kissed him for.. she didn't know how long. He was warm. His lips were soft. His face was smooth. She kissed him, and she loved it.
But he didn't kiss her back.
Lizzy pulled away as soon as she noticed this. His face was stone still, staring at her. His lips were parted, his eyes open and twitching. He was shocked. Appalled. Disgusted.
His expression sobered Lizzy up more than any Alka Seltzer. "I'm sorry," Lizzy said, pressing the heels of her hands to her eye sockets. "I- I'm sorry."
Will licked his lips. His Adam's apple bobbed. His eyes were unblinking. "Elize… I- You're… drunk. You'll regret this in the morning."
"Believe me," Lizzy laughed bitterly, "I regret it NOW!"
Will's face was understanding— not angry, not sad, just.. detached guilt. It broke her heart a little more with every second he didn't say anything. He was too nice. She had hurt him.
"God." Lizzy pressed a hand to her head, though even that movement was difficult. Her arms wanted to just stick by her sides. "I've ruined everything."
Will finally found his tongue. "You haven't ruined everything," he said. "We can…," he paused, looking like he was trying to stomach something unpleasant, "..still be friends."
That was what did it. Lizzy started to cry.
She bit her lip until it hurt, but the tears slid past her defenses, dripping down her cheeks and off of her wobbling chin. She couldn't even muster the strength to get out of the car. But she didn't want Will to see her cry. She felt a hand on her shaking shoulder, and with some effort she looked into Will's panicked face.
He was saying something. His mouth was moving. But all Lizzy could think about was how this was wrong, how she had ruined it, how he would hate her, or worse, pity her.
Will, with gentle force, pulled her into his arms. His hand cradled her head like her father used to do, and Lizzy cried harder. She was letting everyone down, down, down.
His hand was drawing circles on her back, his voice shushing her softly, and Lizzy realized she had been mumbling something. What had she said? Probably how much of a failure she was.
"You're not a failure," Will's voice said, clearly. His breath tickled her ear.
Lizzy felt a tear trace her jawline. She hiccuped. "Yes I am," she whispered hoarsely. "I can't even… I can't…," her voice broke. She couldn't even tell him how she felt.
"I'm a mess," she whispered. Her voice sounded broken; even to her.
She heard Will lick his lips. "Lizzy," he said, "Lizzy, listen to me. Don't say this about yourself. I… I'm so, so sorry for being.. for doing that to you. It was wrong, and petty of me. I know you must hate me right now.."
"..I don't hate you…"
"..but please, Lizzy. Don't blame yourself. You're drunk. You're exhausted. You.. It's okay, if you do things you regret."
Lizzy's breathing had slowed. She was probably getting snot all over Will's poor shirt. But she couldn't lift her head. She couldn't move.
"Will…," she croaked. It scared her that she could barely move.
"Yeah?"
"I…" She faltered. She stopped. She closed her mouth. One, final, tear made its way down her cheek. She had so much to tell him, but so little she could say. He was better off not knowing. Better off never knowing that she cared about him, more than she cared about herself.
There weren't enough words, not enough stars in the sky, to express the ache inside her chest.
Lizzy breathed in Will's scent. He smelled like evergreen and woodsmoke and cologne. He smelled like home.
She would never be this close to him again.
Her heart broke a little more.
"Take me home, Will."
And then Lizzy Bennít lost consciousness. She never did hear William Darcy whisper that he was sorry, over and over and over again— sorry that he was not enough, sorry that he didn't want to be friends, sorry that he had left her all alone. She felt the salty wetness on her forehead from where his cheek was pressed. She never saw his eyes.
She never wanted this.
She just wanted to go home.
