A/N: so here is the last installment, I tried to make it long as an apology, and you can blame school for it taking so long, but almost done! One more week and I'm free.
/ |||| All Your Warmth Baby; It Comes From a Bottle |||| \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
You have been covered in his scent for days, a week or so and your drenched in it. He has surrounded you; his body warm wrapped round you at night, hot as he slide down your body, kissed you hard and moved inside you smooth and just right.
He had you, claimed you and everyone heard; you think that maybe you should feel a bit more embarrassed, but you're past that stage in life, your past allot of them; now you content to lay in his bed.
Everyone lay sleeping except you, the visiting pack gone last night, with clapping shoulders and promises to update if threats find their way to either group.
You think that everything is better now, he could have pushed you aside, claimed that he would take you until you were done with school, but he hadn't; no he took you to his bed like there was no other way, like he would die if he didn't.
So you went, you laid yourself out and he took what he wanted, what you both wanted. You felt whole now, felt like you could conquer the world, or maybe just not cave to Lydia.
You know he is as awake as you are, can feel him try to go back to sleep, but you press back into him, wanting to feel more warmth, wanting to feel him against your skin.
His arm tightens and you turn, you look at him, his eyes still closed but his face set in his normal stubborn mask.
You move to kiss him, lay your lips light against his cheek and nose and chin, you move to his lips, just a second away before he's pushing you back at arms length.
His eyes open and staring at the pillow under your head, his jaw working and set, grinding his teeth loud enough for you to hear.
'No.'
Its one word while you stare at him, stare at his eyes set on his pillows, his jaw shut once again.
You can only stare at him as your eyes open wider in shock, the pain in your chest heavy and sharp, sliding through your throat, like he used to promise; he tears through you, his teeth, replaced with his words, your throat just a poor bystander to the ripping of your heart.
You can only nod as tears spill, as his hands tighten enough on your arms to have you whimper.
It shocks him enough to look at you with wide eyes, to see your pain that you are sure is etched on your face, see the shock and the tendons pulled tight in your neck as you try to hold in the scream and groan and whimper and everything else that wants to come out.
He moves to lay his hand on you, the hands that have left bruises on you thighs and hips; the hands that he had just ripped back to himself at you whimper of pain.
You're moving though, sliding out of sheets and into you clothes as you drag your bag from under his bed, as you cram your things into it. As you throw your life as you knew it back together.
You're at the door and pulling your things out by the time he is scrambling to get out of his sheets. Trying to do something but your not to sure what and you really don't care.
No, you just shove your things into your jeep, having said goodbye to your dad over breakfast yesterday, so it's just a shove of your key into the ignition and turning the engine over and you're in reverse.
You don't even have a shirt; you can only register the pin pricks of your tears hit your skin. You can hear something as you push into drive, the sound of feet pounding on wood floors.
Your at the tree line before you hear Lydia or Allison call your name, hear Jackson wail your name, hear Scott shocking it out in a nervous scream, hear Danny yelling through tears; but never him, no, never him, even if he's right next to them, trying to run after you, but your gone.
It's easier to leave them like this, you wouldn't imagine how else you would have done it anyways, and the result of you leaving would have been the same if you had left at night when they slept or never returned from buying something.
They would have cried, would have been just as scared as they are now, but it had to be dome, better like a Band-Aid then a burn.
You try to breathe, try to see through the tears as you drive through the winding roads, as the air is still just cool enough to chill you but that's just background noise. You try to block out your cubs screams, the crying, try to block out him not being they're when you needed it.
You can only savor what you got, you can only remember their laughs and playing, their smiling faces, his warm hands and body, the words whispered into your ear, the bite throbbing at the junction of your neck and shoulder.
You just laugh now, you can only laugh now; that what an idiot you must have looked like, how much of an idiot you are, like he would stop just because of a visiting pack.
Would stop and accept what you were giving and make himself happy, make you happy; no, he wouldn't be himself if he did, would be the person you're so stupidly in love with, would be that one.
You laugh as you cry as you drive through the mountains, the air colder here.
You murmur to yourself.
'Stupid, pathetic, so fucking stupid; so fucking fucked!'
And your laughing again, you can only yell out into the open air, as loud as you can; because you feel like you did the first time he pushed you away, like you're sixteen again.
You scream it at the top of your lungs, because its something you would have done when you were that young.
'YOLO'
Its until your at the house four days later, that your room mate sees your face and is pulling into the house, pulling you into your room and leaving you for a moment.
She may not like it, may want to hold and coddle you, to try to help you from your vices, but she knows that she can't; she does what she can, something she will hate herself for tomorrow.
The bottle of vodka and jack in each hand as she sits behind you and you drink yourself into oblivion.
You should have seen it coming.
You are no one to him.
You can only hold onto the bottle a little tighter, that's all the warmth you have now.
