NOTES: Darcy's POV. Sorta short. Pretty angsty {i didn't mean for it to be that way, but it ended up sad bc how else do you show this much agony :( } Hopefully I'll be able to post the next one very soon, and it won't be as hard to read.

Stay safe, you guys! Sending love yall's way 💗 ~Vinny

The covers were itchy. Usually, when Darcy had a bad night's sleep, they were tangled tightly around his knees, but today (for some reason?) the covers were flat and warm and itchy against his… legs… his.. bare legs…

Darcy sat up. Or, he tried to.

He got about halfway up before his muscles screamed at him. He flopped back onto the uncomfortable bedspread.

Which, upon closer inspection, was uncomfortable because it was a rug.

He looked around the room, for once, immensely grateful he had never bothered to open the blinds. He was in his living room, curled up on the rug, wearing boxers and a suspiciously stained tuxedo shirt.

What…?

Oh. No. God.

He remembered now.

"Knock knock, bitch!" A far too loud voice echoed from the entrance hall.

Fuck. This WAS NOT happening. Darcy groaned, and tried again to sit up, but all he succeeded in doing was turning away and putting his ears over his head. "Go away, Williams," he mumbled into the rug.

"I will not," his cousin said, sauntering into the room. "I was sent to check up on you, and… Is that vomit? By the lamp?"

Darcy lifted his head and squinted over to the coffee table. "..yes," he decided, wincing at the volume of his own voice.

"Ew. Okay. Let me get some cleaning supplies." Heavy footsteps padded away, then returned a second later. "Under the sink, right?"

"Yes," Darcy grimaced, hands over his face, "Now please shut up. Your voice… loud."

It sounded like Williams was grumbling something under his breath, but Darcy was pointedly ignoring him. His head hurt. His eyes were puffy. There was… dried salt on his cheeks? He didn't remember crying. But he probably did, come to think of it.

Lizzy. God, Lizzy. He needed her. He loved her. He didn't remember too much of last night, it was crystal clear that they had fought. Maybe even broken up.

FUCK— GOD— that was not happening. They were NOT breaking up. He— He loved her. Loved her so much it hurt. And he did hurt right then. More than he had ever hurt before.

"So… you, like, want iHop or something? I've heard that's good hangover food. Especially for fucking idiots."

Darcy twisted his head to look up at his cousin. "Are you angry with me?" He managed.

His mouth felt almost like he had been numbed at the dentist's office, except instead of minty fresh he just tasted vomit, loneliness, and alcohol.

Williams snorted. "Uh, DUH, dipshit."

"May.. I ask why?"

He folded his arms and looked away, blowing out his cheeks before answering. "You made her cry, dude."

Darcy's heart dropped. "L-Lizzy?"

"No, Beyoncé," Williams rolled his eyes angrily. "Yes OF COURSE LIZZY! She had a fuckin' mental breakdown 'cause of you! You yelled at her in front of EVERYONE! Asshole!"

His head was swimming, his body was shaking, his heart was screaming out in the pain of truth— Darcy didn't care. He stumbled to his feet with superhuman determination.

"I need to see her," he gasped, choking on air as he tried to run on failing legs, "I need— need to apologize. I need to see her, to tell her—"

"Stop."

Williams' hand was on his chest. His eyes weren't sad. More.. disappointed. "She doesn't want to see you."

Darcy stumbled back as if he had been shot. Bracing himself on a coffee table, he looked back at his cousin, sweat smearing his face and blurring his vision. "Wh- what?"

His face was round, and hard, and set in a scowl. "She doesn't want to see you right now. And… Jesus, man. I don't blame her. What you did… what you put her through..? I'm surprised she answered the phone at all."

"You called her?" Darcy asked desperately, falling into a standing position, "Is she alright? Where is she? What did she say?"

Williams didn't answer right away. He looked down, and sighed. "She's driving to her parents' house. Lizzy… wants some time to figure all this," he gestured vaguely around them, "out. She said.. she'll reach out when she's ready."

Darcy fell back onto the couch, exhausted. He stared up at the ceiling until his eyes burned from lack of blinking.

"So.. that's it?" He said, to no one in particular, "It's over?"

There was a long breath from across the room, and then footsteps coming closer. There was a dip on the couch beside his head.

"Listen, Darcy. I'm not sugarcoating for you. You fucked up, man."

He didn't even have the emotional strength to sarcastically mutter 'gee, thanks.' Darcy just laid there, numb, as Williams continued speaking.

"I… I really don't know what'll happen. If it'll ever get fixed. All I know is— you made each other better. At least, she did that for you. Last night, though…. God. Look, all I'm saying is, give her some space. Some time. Maybe it'll all work out."

"Don't give me false hope," Darcy said bitterly, his eyes squeezing shut. "I've lost her. She's gone."

A tear leaked out. It burned a wobbling path down his cheek as he shook, ever so slightly.

A hand materialized on his shoulder, shaking him a bit. "Don't talk like that! I'm allowed to— not you. I- I probably shouldn't say this, cause she still needs time to figure shit out, but.. Lizzy still cares about you. She told me herself."

"But I love her," he whispered, brokenly. "I still love her. So, so much."

"Shh," Williams murmured, putting his arms around Darcy and rubbing his back. "Shhh. Give it time, man. Just give it time."

He wasn't proud of how long he cried, of how far his face screwed up and how many times Williams had to tell him It Would Be Alright. It was hard to believe anything was alright when Lizzy Bennet was out of his life, and knowing he had been the one to push her away.

All he hoped was that, someday, he could see her smile again. And maybe it would all be alright.

But until that moment, Darcy cried, surrounded by shattered memories, and the knowledge that he would never, never, love anyone again.

Unless that 'anyone' was her.