perfect storm | bobby skeetz

038

"don't leaveee meee." i whined, holding angel in a tight hug. it had been 3 weeks since bobby bought me the guitar, and it was eli's birthday tomorrow so him and angel were going to italy for a couple days.
"trust she would stay if she could." eli says, patting josh on the back before loading his suitcase into the back of their car.
"uh? not true!" angel defends herself turning to him, she turns back to me and whispers.
"so true." i laugh.

after they left i sat in my room, replying to emails i had been procrastinating for weeks and finalising the plans for my tour in october. i could feel myself falling asleep until a knock on my door woke me up.
"hi." bobby smiles, opening the door.
"hey you." i smile back, he stands there looking at me and not saying anything, just smiling.

"did you need something or..." i laugh nervously.
"OH right sorry i forgot for a second haha." he looks down shyly.
"i just needed to borrow um some.. moisturiser." he says, as if making something up on the spot.
"moisturiser?" i raise my eyebrows.
"..yes."

"second drawer" i say nodding to my bedside table, before going back to my laptop.
"thanks." he walks over and opens it, but he doesn't take out moisturiser.
"is this what i think it is?" i could hear a smirk in his voice and i looked up to see him holding a notebook. my eyes widen. it wasn't any notebook, it was the one i used to write all my songs in; songs i had written about him.

"bobby give it to me." i rush to my feet to grab it off him but he holds up above his head, he's too tall for me to take it. i fold my arms and look up at him.
"i'm not doing this."
"then let me look!" he smiles like a little kid, flipping through the pages.

"crush.. sidelines.. i remember you writing these." the sight of him reading my lyrics mortify me, i bury my head into my pillow unable to look at him. so many unreleased songs in there i had written about the break up, pretty sure in one of them i called him a two faced fuck. breaking up with him destroyed me, i wrote about 5 songs a week about it. and then there was the ones i wrote recently.... he doesn't need to know how i feel about him, not while sophie was here.

"this looks good, the grudge." my head lifts up from the pillow. oh god.
"bobby no."
"ouu who do you have a grudge against mags?" he teases. you. it was you.
"bobby this isn't funny stop it." i grab the bottom of the book but he's stronger and runs to the other side of the room. i get up and walk over to him, feeling the need to explain myself as he reads the lyrics.

his face drops as he reads the words on the paper, i could read from his expressions that he knew he hurt me but never this much.
"when- when did you write this?" he looks up at me, guilt swimming in his eyes. i hesitated.
"on the plane home from dublin, day we broke up."

he walks over to my bed and sits down, dropping it down on the bed next to him.
"bobby i don't feel like that anymore i promise i've forgiven you it's all fine it's fine you had your reasons." his reasons were pretty shit but i at least understood he only wanted the best for me.

"my reasons were shit mags. i should've realised i was hurting you doing what i did, and i'll kick myself everyday for it." he says grabbing my hands and looking up at me directly in the eyes.
"it's okay." i say rubbing my thumb against his hands. he gets up and walks over to the door, muttering something before he leaves.

"i should've never let you go."