Author's Note: This one isn't sappy, for those of you who are concerned that I'm getting too "soft" lately (*cough* Alliecat *cough*).
Day One-Hundred Sixty-Nine: The Last Time by Taylor Swift feat. Gary Lightbody
I paced back and forth in front of Spencer's door. I still didn't know whether I wanted to knock.
We'd been through this so many times. We loved each other; I knew it. I loved her more than anything else. Hell, I didn't love anything else; she was the only thing I loved in the whole frickin' world because she was the only one who cared about me anymore. Naturally, I always came back to her. She always screamed that she didn't want to see me anymore and that goodbye was for real that time, but I always came back. Everything brought me back to her. I'm not sure how, but anything and everything led back to Spencer.
That time, in particular, was a little different. Usually, I had one or two drinks before getting the courage to go back to her, but this time in particular, I was drunk. I was really upset. Not only had I lost her again, but I lost my grandma a week ago, too. I couldn't deal with losing the only two people (aside from my mother, when she was alive) who ever gave a damn about me in the same week.
She was home, all alone, when I knocked on the heavy wood door. When she opened the door, I took note of the fact that her eyes were red and watery, like she was in the middle of crying. Maybe she was. I was crying, too. Though, I didn't know if it was from the pain, the alcohol, or both. But for some reason, I felt a little better around her.
I could barely fathom what I looked like. Broken, I imagine. Right in front of her, I was breaking. I just left her, for no real reason and I had no explanation. I had no explanation as to why I was even back. I just missed her. I needed her. She was the only person left who might've had some faith in me.
"I don't want to play a game, Toby. This is the last time."
This was not a game. Not to me, at least. It was just me and her when we were together. No tricks. No gimmicks. I wasn't trying to deceive her.
I explained that I didn't know why I left in the first place. I just felt like my whole world was caving in. My grandma was the only family member left who cared about me. My dad didn't care. My stepfamily would leave me for dead and I knew it. My grandfather on my dad's side would probably sell me in exchange for some cigarettes and cheap liquor. I just needed to run. I didn't leave her, explicitly, but I walked out on her. It made me feel awful.
"You've been here for me all along and I don't know how I could've just ignored it," I said somewhat tearfully, like I always did (well, usually sans the tears). "I don't want to hurt you anymore."
Reluctantly, I let him in my door.
This had happened so many times in the past; he'd walk out, drink a little (or a lot, like that night in particular), apologize, and then tell me what a mistake he made and how he really loved me and I was wrong if I couldn't see that. We would kiss and make up and say 'I love you' to each other profusely until we felt completely forgiven. We'd wake up the next morning tangled up in each other. He'd have a bit of a headache (or a huge hangover, depending on how much liquor he had the previous night), I would make him breakfast and give him everything necessary to get over his hangover. We would be happy for however long it lasted before we got into another fight and the cycle repeated itself.
But every time, I was there to watch him leave. I didn't get drunk and I didn't go out and I just dealt with it and suffered silently all the time. I never really told anyone about how it made me feel. For the record, it made me feel awful because I knew he was just going to leave again.
But everything was better with him. So how could I just leave forever?
This time was a little different. He'd finally caught me, for once, crying and sobbing hysterically. He saw how much pain I was in. And even though he was drunk, I could tell that he was responding to it. He couldn't hide, and neither could I. I made no effort to hide how it made me feel.
"This is the last time I'm asking you this; why do you always break my heart?" I asked abruptly.
He was taken aback slightly by my terseness.
"Why do you always leave and come back? I don't want to be this way forever. I love you, but I can't do this to myself," I said wearily with tears in my eyes. "I deserve better," I murmured to myself.
He was silent for a moment before he nodded. "You do deserve better."
I could feel his heart breaking. I could feel my own heart breaking. Before I could stop him, he was stumbling out of the door.
That truly was the last time. It was the last time I'd ask him why he hurt me. It was the last time I'd let him in my door. It was the last time I'd ever see his face.
A week later, I went to visit his grave. It was some freak accident, or so I heard. It felt like fate playing a cruel game.
When I said it was the last time, I didn't want it to be true; I didn't mean it.
Sarah: Seriously, please stop apologizing for things you don't even have anything to be sorry about. No, it took a long time because I felt really awkward writing about Toby's grandma, basically. And also, I didn't want to subconsciously copy someone else's work. Sure, it is. There are people better than me. And then, nobody even reads my prompts on Tumblr anyway, so...maybe I'm just not as good as you think I am. I'm sorry if this sounded brooding and angsty. I've just been brooding and angsty lately.
AL3110:Together, romantically? Yes. What scene? The one with Emily? It did because it showed how oblivious Emily was to everything (Emily being representative of everyone) and how on-edge Spencer is anyway.
Alright, the next one is actually a request I got a very long time ago from a guest named "lola". I don't know if you're still reading this, but I did find a place to put your request in. The next one-shot will be Small Hands by Keaton Henson and it's also kind of sad. -Kayson