Author's Notes: Just a little ficlet type thingee I wrote because I'm going a bit mental at the moment.
Justin's POV You know that you shouldn’t be awake at this time of night, when you’ve got a ridiculously busy day planned for tomorrow, or what was tomorrow when you last checked the clock… Fuck. It’s three in the morning, and you don’t really know how several hours have managed to pass in what only seemed like a few minutes… But they have, and there’s nothing you can do about it… Nothing you can do to get that time back again. No matter how much you want to, you can’t change the past… Can’t change the mistakes you made… Can’t change what may have been the biggest fucking mistake of your life… The reason you’re lying here right now… Unable to sleep… Thoughts racing… Your mind adamantly refusing to slow down. You roll over and close your eyes, begging for the tranquillity of sleep to encompass you, hoping that this new found position will convince your exhausted body to rest. But the silence is too loud… Too fucking loud… It’s deafening, and you can’t stand it anymore. You need to hear the familiar and comforting sound of soft breathing beside you. You need to hear the reassuring hum of slight wheezing from a deviated septum… You just need to know that he’s there. But he’s not… He’s not there… And he probably never will be. He’s back in fucking Pittsburgh where you left everything without even a second fucking glance. You wish you didn’t care… You wish that you could conquer the fucking art world without ever looking back… Just move on and forget everything. But the memories and the emotions are so strong that you can’t… And it frustrates you so incredibly much that you’re so hung up on your previous life. Hell, it fucking frustrates you that you’re frustrated in the first place. No wonder you’re here at a quarter past three… pleading with yourself to sleep… pleading with your mind to just shut the fuck up… It’s your first night in New York alone for Christ’s sake… You’re supposed to be feeling this way… Aren’t you? You know this isn’t what he would want you to be doing… worrying… dwelling on the past… dwelling on your possible mistakes. He told you to never look back… but we all know what a master at bullshitting he is. What if he didn’t really want you to go? What if he was hoping that you’d stay, but just didn’t have the balls to say it? How could you do that to him? After everything he’s done for you… Everything he wanted to be for you. Sure, you know his asshole façade, and it’s part of why you love him… But you’ve also seen behind that mask… Seen the vulnerability… Seen into his, forgive the expression, soul. He told you he loved you for fucks sake. He wanted to marry you. Bought you a mansion. Told you that you were… beautiful… But you left… Walked away… Supposed to never look back. The overwhelming realisation of what you’ve actually done suddenly hits you, and the tears begin to fall. Salty, wet trails sliding down your face, hitting the pillow you have clutched in your arms. You hold it tighter, and press your face in to the material, trying to find comfort by convincing yourself that it’s not a pillow, but him… God, how you wish that you were draped across his chest… His amazing chest… That his arms were around you… And he was telling you that everything would be okay. Just like after the bashing when you had those horrifying nightmares… When you felt like you’d never be able to get rid of the fear. He always made the terror of the night melt away… With his whispered words of reassurance… A soothing hand rubbing tiny circles on your back… Holding you close… Until you fell asleep again… Taking yourself back to that place… That safe place… With him… In his arms… You feel yourself start to finally drift off… Sleep edging ever closer… The relief washing over you… What the fuck?! Jerking awake once more, your aura of calm is broken and you can hear an incessant ringing noise. It’s your God damn cell phone, and you’re about to wonder who the fuck would be ringing at this hour, when you check the caller I.D. You flip the cell phone open, not saying anything… Just wanting to listen… A smile materializing on your weary, tear-streaked face. “Hey, Sunshine. I didn’t wake you up did I?”