Chapter 25

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this story is hard for me

Chapter 25

(Nash)

I kept my face hidden from her. I could feel her hands on mine, clutching tight, holding onto me in any way she could. I wanted to brush her off, but I knew it would hurt her, so I clenched my jaw and sucked it up even though I felt like this grief would damn near kill me. 

"Talk to me," Aria begged. "Please."

But I couldn't because I had no idea what to say. How to explain the way it was eating at me. He's gone, I wanted to shout at her. How can he just be gone? How could he want to be gone when he knew I needed him here, with me? How can someone just leave, permanently? Didn't he think about me? How could he just—

"Nash," Aria whispered, her voice rough. "I—" she cut off abruptly, coughing. I wondered what she had wanted to say.

I looked up only to find myself wanting to cry again—which I sure as hell wasn't going to do—so I exhaled sharply, but it came out shaky. Every part of me was shaky. I had meant to push her off of me. I had intended on saying, I'm fine, totally fine, and smirking or smiling to reassure her of that. But I had felt my eyes watering. I felt everything in me slowly collapsing because I had known was only a matter of seconds until I started to cry. And I really hadn't wanted her to see that.

But she did. God, she saw me crying. She heard me say it, too. I knew she heard me saying it. I killed him. I killed my brother. She had to of heard me. 

I didn't want to have to explain it. I killed him because I wasn't there for him when he really needed me. I killed him because instead of wondering why the fuck he was drinking and acting like he didn't give a shit about anything anymore, I just got pissed at him—just completely exploded. Selfish, that's what I was. I only cared about what he was doing because it made my life harder. Never once thought about him. Just me, me, me.

I'm so sorry, Tommy, I thought to myself. I'm so sorry. I bowed my head. I wanted to start hitting things again but I knew it would only scare Aria so I restrained myself. Clenched my fists tight. Closed my eyes and took deep breaths. 

I felt her hand on my cheek, warm and soft and gentle and I wanted to crush her to me and say, I fucking need you, but I held it in. Held it in tight so the words would never leave my lips because I couldn't afford to need anyone. Everyone I loved died. Or left. Or gave up on me. I couldn't afford to need her.

But I felt myself needing her anyways, because she was always so damned great. So great. She never gave up on me. She always had fierceness in her eyes and the way she spoke, and she never left. So why can't you need her? I asked myself. Why can't you just—just this once, need someone...love someone.

I swallowed hard, my throat seeming to close on me. Finally I turned to her to see her pale eyes already staring at me. She looked cautious, scared and a little nervous. I wanted to show her I was fine so I tried to smile but it didn't work. It was too shaky, too unsure, too sad. So I just kept my lips pressed together, hoping she couldn't see the way they were trembling. Hoping she couldn't hear the way my breath hitched each time I exhaled. 

She said only this, "Help me understand." Her eyes were watery with tears but she didn't let them fall. She clutched my face between her hands. "Help me understand, please."

My eyes were wide and unfocused and probably scared. "I don't know how," I said only to have it come out as a whisper. I swallowed once. Cleared my throat. She looked so scared, so I tried. Tried to explain how I was feeling to her in a way that she could understand.

"It's like this. Imagine you're in a room, okay?" She nodded faintly. "There's a fire. And it's everywhere. And there's too much smoke, and you're breathing it in, and you're coughing, and you don't know how to get out because there's no windows or doors or anything. And, you keep banging on the walls, and hoping someone will hear you, but no one does," I paused when my voice broke. "And—" I broke off again.

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