Not good for you

40;

NOW

Seeley pulled up to a bar after about twenty minutes of driving in silence. I caught him clenching his jaw a few times or tightening his bloody fingers around the wheel.

I stared at the flickering lights when he pulled the keys out of the ignition and turned to me with empty eyes.

"Are you coming in?" He asked, his voice low.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips.

"I'd rather go home."

He cleared his throat and then opened his door.

"Then you can walk home if can't stand being around me."

"Seeley, it's not—" I tried to argue but he already slammed the door shut and walked toward the bar.

I looked around in the dark street before pushing my door open to follow Seeley. He scared me in a way but I also didn't want to leave his side.

Hurrying inside the bar, I was welcomed with warm air and the smell of sweat. Since it was already late enough there were a lot of people inside, playing pool and drinking until they couldn't roll their tongues.

I saw Seeley walking up to the bar and ordering himself a drink. I ignored people giving me side glances and made my way over to him.

I take a seat beside him on a barstool then shake my head slightly when the bartender gives me a questioning look if I wanted to drink anything.

I've already had enough drinks at the Drewitt house before the shit hit the fan after Seeley appeared.

I watched him quietly as he drank his scotch in less than five seconds. My eyes widened as he slammed the glass down and gestured to the bartender to fill his glass.

"Seeley, I know you are upset..."

He scoffed and tilted his head to the side while his face hardened.

"Upset is not even close to what I'm feeling now, Heds." He answered and watched the bartender doing his job.

My chest tightened at the sight of his suffering. He didn't deserve any of this.

He hasn't deserved anything that ever happened to him yet he had to be one of the most heartbroken people that I'd ever met in my entire life.

I started to think about his deceased sister and mother that must have been torturing him for years now and I had no idea about it.

He knew many things about me because I had trusted him with those pieces of information but it seemed he never trusted me that way. Not that he had to tell me everything but even after years he still lied to my face when I asked that particular question about his mother.

However, my heart understood his decision not want to talk about it.

"I just want you to know that I'm here for you," I said and touched his shoulder while the noise of the almost crowded bar muffled my voice.

He tensed but didn't push my hand off himself and I took that as a good sign.

He was in such a dark place in his mind now that I had to calculate my next steps and words because it felt like I was walking in a minefield.

"Then drink." He nodded toward the bartender.

I bit into my lip and pulled my hand away which he immediately noticed. He glanced up at me, with cold eyes.

"I don't want to," I answered, my voice small and defeated. I had no chance against him but I kept trying to pull him out of the shadows.

He leaned on his elbows and glared at his glass as if it has been responsible for all the things that has ever gone wrong in his life.