31 July 2012

I <3 this one. It's sad and also totally romantic at the same time :) x

*Drew's POV* The cool splash of water on my feet made me gasp and open my eyes. Where was I? Oh, I'm on the beach. The fire had gone out, just charred black sticks and ashes remained. The tide had come in, explaining the feel of water brushing over my feet every few seconds. The sun was bright and hot, and directly above me, so it cast barely any shadows on the warm Malibu landscape. The wind was warm and gentle, pushing palm trees gently back and forth. It must be like, eleven. Or ten maybe. I heard a soft, quiet grumbling, and felt an arm pull me closer to a warm, muscular chest. Justin. I turned over on the sand, seeing his face looking peaceful and calm as he slept. He felt me adjust my position, and once again, tugged me closer, burying his face in my neck. I had to smile at his perfect, sleeping figure. His hair was messy from sleep, coming out in wild, unruly spikes. He was hot from being under the sun for so long, skin looking more tanned than usual. We'd slept on the beach last night. Well, I guess you could say we'd done much more than sleep. I won't go into the details, but it was so perfect. Justin wasn't just a gentle person, he was careful and loving, caring and sweet. Honestly, I wanted to do it all over again. He let out a soft yawn and half-opened his eyes, dreary and weak. "Good-morning" he smiled softly at the sight of me. "Morning. How are you?" I asked, just wanting to keep talking to him. "My head hurts. And my neck. And my back" he groaned, touching each place he had an ache. "Well, the head part probably has something to do with the amount of beer you had last night" I giggled at the silly memory "And the back and neck part, is because we slept on the beach" I smiled as he rubbed his eyes and sat up, pulling me into his lap. I rolled the sleeves of his dark blue shirt up on my arms. He'd let me borrow it last night when we'd had the idea of making a fire. It smelt just like him. He always smelt like aftershave. Not too strong, but not so weak that you couldn't smell it. It was just right. "We slept on the beach?". "Uhuh". "Why?". Hmm? Huh? Maybe he's just confused. "Uh, well...." I began, but Justin chipped in with words of his own. "Hold up. What happened last night?". Did he just ask me that? Did he just ask what happened? "Wait... You don't remember?" he was truly beginning to scare me. Did he remember saying all those things? Telling me he was "Head over heels in love with me"? Did he remember.... He had to. How could he forget? He told me himself he'd never had anything that special with a girl. "That was so perfect Drew. You're amazing. I've never done anything like that with anyone that compares to you" I remembered him telling me, eyes light and loving. "The last thing I remember is eating a load of some amazing fish. But that's it. I was totally wasted after that" he laughed, stretching his arms high above his head. He had no idea how much his words just hurt me. He was totally wasted throughout the best time of my life. It wasn't just the sex, it was everything he was telling me. Every minute, he'd say he loved me, or that he'd never let me go, or that he didn't deserve me. It was all gone. Boom. Cancelled. Wiped out of his memory. He didn't remember anything he'd said or done with me. "Drew... What's wrong?" only his words made me realise I was crying. Hot salty tears ran down my cheeks, my eyes wet, lips dry and cracked. He pulled me into his chest, hugging me tight "Drew what's up babe?" he asked, completely clueless to my heartbreak. I didn't know what was worse. Being raped or making perfect love and then your partner not remembering any of it. It's a lose lose situation. I sobbed loudly into Justin's chest, until I felt I could sob no more. "Drew tell me what I've done wrong, and I'll fix it". I snapped at the sound of his words. "You can't fix it Justin! You can't!" I yelled at him, my voice shaky as I jumped out of his lap. "Drew just listen to-" he began, climbing up off the sand and coming over to me. "Don't you dare tell me to listen to you! I'm done listening to you! Everything you tell me is either a lie or a drunken mistake. So stop talking!" I screamed, and began to run up the path to the house. "Drew!" he called after me, sprinting across the sand faster than I could. I reached the grass and slowed to a fast-walk. "Drew! I don't understand! What's wrong?" he called, reaching the same grassy point as me. He stopped me with a firm hand to the wrist, spinning me around and into his body. "Talk to me!" he pleaded. "I have nothing left to say" I said pointedly, before snatching my hand away from him. I managed to make it up to the bedroom without him stopping me. I flew around the room as Justin watched me throw various things back into my suitcase. "You're leaving?" he exclaimed. "I gotta get outta here". "Why?". "Because I can't look at you knowing what I know!" I turned to him, running my hands through my sandy, tangled hair in stress. "What d'you know that I don't?!?" he pleaded, stepping close to me. I realised I was crying again when he wiped gentle tears from my tanned cheeks. "I can't tell you" I cried, wrapping my arms around his neck as I broke down piece by piece in his embrace. "Why not?" he whispered softly in my ear, holding me tight. I was scared I was going to literally fall apart in his arms, but his strong, muscular body was taught and tensed around me, the only thing keeping me together. "Because I know you'll regret it" I sobbed quietly, sniffling through the constant rain of tears. "Wait... Is it something we did? Or I did?". I nodded into his neck, not sure he'd feel it. He did. "When did I do it?". "Last night. You don't remember because you were drunk" I pulled back to wipe away the tears. "Well, whatever it is, whatever I did to make you so upset. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I was drunk and I'm sorry". Oh that hurt. He didn't know that everything he just said in those few sentences was making it worse. More tears escaped. "Or.. I did? What? Drew you have to tell me what I did. I'm so lost, and confused. You're not helping me here" he shook his head, lifting my feet a few inches off the ground, hands at te backs of my thighs "You're not helping me either" I sniffled. "Yeah because I don't know how to. You do. You're just refusing to" he challenged, making a fair point. "Don't leave. We can work this out, I promise. All you have to do, is tell me what happened". I couldn't. I can't. "I can't" I thought aloud. "Can't or won't?" he said harshly, getting impatient with me. There was no way I could tell him. I couldn't tell him we'd had sex and I'd loved every second of it. He'd look at me like I was insane. What if he thought I was lying? What if he thought I was telling the truth, and wished he hadn't of done it? What if he thought of it as a drunken mistake? His eyes pleaded, willed, begged and wished for me to speak, but I couldn't. "I'm sorry. I just can't." I can't tell him because I can't lose him. He dropped me to the floor, my feet landing with a thud on the wooden floorboards. He stepped away from me, eyes blank yet hurt. "Fine" he said, before walking away, a hand running through his hair. "Justin wait!"I cried. He stopped and turned to me, waiting for whatever it was that I was going to say. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" he asked calmly. I stood and rubbed my foot up my shin, crossing my arms over my chest. I stared down at his shirt I wore, letting my messy hair hang down beside it. I shook my head a centimetre. "That's what I thought" he sighed, before leaving me alone in the room. I stayed strong until I heard his footsteps disappear down the stairs. That's when I fell apart. I dropped to my knees, leaning forward and cradling myself in my own arms, crying and sobbing as quietly as I could. I rocked gently back and forth, knowing it would be what Mamaw would do if I was like this around her. She'd hold me and tell me "Drew, remember, you can't start this over. You've gotta fix the things that are broken little 'un". It was sort of her motto. I'd lived by it my whole life, but why did it seem so difficult to apply to my situation right now? Then it hit me. Maybe it's because there's nothing left to fix </3.

Justin slept on the sofa that night. He didn't speak to me all day. Not once. He made me breakfast and lunch, and set it down in front of me, no words and no expression. He just aimed a really pissed off look at me. I decided to make my own dinner, knowing I wouldn't be able to survive his heart-aching stare one more time without literally getting down on my knees and declaring my undying love for him. I had no idea where he was, and I wish I could say I didn't care. I could, but I'd be lying, and Poppa said not to lie. I decided not to think about him as I pulled a jar of spaghetti sauce and noodles out of the cupboard. I got the noodles ready, tipping them into the pot as I read the instructions on the sauce jar. It read "Microwave in bowl for two minutes before adding to pasta". Pretty simple. Now I just gotta open the damn thing. As well as being short and small, I am also not very strong. I struggled with the twist cap on the jar as I gritted my teeth, as if that would make it any easier to open. "Let me do that" a quiet, mumbling voice came from behind me. It was husky and deep, and could not be mistaken for anyone other than Justin's. When he spoke like that... My heart skipped a beat. But right now, my heart was too busy hurting to give any beats away for free. I didn't even bother turning to face him. I didn't want to see the pissed off look on his usually-smug face. "I got it" I muttered harshly. He ignored me and stepped around me, ending up directly in front of me. He wore a tight-fitting white vest top and board shorts, a single, thin gold chain around his neck. I averted my gaze from his muscu

DrewTexasTexas Girl (Pt 27) • Opuss № I