fools x tony stonem [completed]

twenty five

I stumble down the vacant street, tripping over potholes and blinking away tears that mix in with the rain dropping down my face. I wrap my arms around myself in an embrace in attempt to keep myself warm, but all that manages to do is knock me off balance, and I grab on to a lamp post to keep myself from falling to the concrete.

I lean my head against the post, letting my eyes rest for a moment as the world spins around me. I hear the sound of wheels against asphalt, and when I open my eyes headlights from a car are shining on me like a spotlight. The car slowly wheels next to me, stopping on the side of the road. The person driving the car rolls the window down.

"Get in the car, Freya!" Tony calls out to me over the patter of the rain.

I stare at him through desolate eyes.

"Fuck off," I slur, my voice sounding tired and defeated.

I pushed myself off the lamp post, continuing my way, surely but slowly, down the street. Tony follows in the car.

"Freya!" He calls again. "You have two options... either you get in the car and I take you home, or I get out of the car and I take you home."

I don't respond, keeping my gaze straight ahead. At least, as straight as it can be with everything spinning around me.

A car door slams and there's footsteps behind me. A hand grabs my wrist and it's Tony, spinning me around to face him. I fall into his chest from the sudden movement.

"Get into the car," he practically begs at this point. "Let me help you home."

"I don't need your help," I argue, pushing my hands against his chest to create some distance.

"Fine, then I'll walk you home," he argues back. I clench my fist by my sides in frustration before turning on my heel. "And good thing your house is a whole 25 minute walk from here... that means we'll have a lot more time to talk compared to if we drive."

I stop in my tracks. Talking to him was obviously the last thing I wanted to do at the moment and he knew that. So either be with him in the car for 5 minutes, or walk with him for nearly 30... I knew exactly what he was trying to do, to convince me to get in the car with him... and it definitely worked.

He must have known I would be coming with him, because when I turned around he was already by his car waiting. I chewed the inside of my cheek, looking down at my shoes as I walked over to him in defeat.

I keep my gaze out the window, watching raindrops hit the glass. I make bets to myself about which drop would reach the bottom first, anything to distract myself from the boy sitting next to me.

I knew he was watching me. I could feel his stare like lasers on the side of my face. I only looked at him once when he had tried to turn on the radio. The look on my face told him that I definitely wasn't in the mood for music, so he kept it off.

By the time we reached my place, the rain poured down harder and the alcohol hit me harder that it ever did all night. Though the car was parked, I felt like we were still moving.

I placed both my hands against the dash and hung my head between my arms, letting myself rest for a moment.

"Well," I slur after a moment. "You got what you wanted... again."

He doesn't say anything as I push the car door open. I hold onto the top of it as I stumble my way out, and when I've found my bearings, I slam it shut.

I have my sight set on my front door, and I take wobbly steps towards the entrance. I know Tony hasn't left yet, and a quick glance over my shoulder verifies that when I see his car still parked and I see him watching me through the window. I blink away tears and swallow the lump in my throat. He never cared, so why was he caring now?

A little pink bike belonging to Mini would ultimately be my down fall, when I'm too late to see it tipped over in the middle of the walkway. My ankle twists when I step on the bikes wheel and I lose my footing. I fall to my knees on the concrete, my hands flying out to catch myself.

I hear a car door slam, and before I have time to register what's going on, I'm picked off of the ground by Tony, whose got his hands around my waist.

"I'm fine," I tell him, but my throbbing ankle and scratched up knees would say otherwise.

"No you're not," he tells me.

He's got his arms thrown around me and I let him lead me to my door. I look up at him as he takes the key from my purse and unlocks the front door. His hairs wet against his forehead, and I watched as I raindrop fell down the top of his nose, to his Cupid's bow, then finally to his pink lips. God, I wanted to lick that raindrop...

I mentally smack myself for even thinking such a thing.

He's got the door unlocked and pulls me inside. I assumed he'd be leaving by now, but he helps me up the stairs, a strong arm wrapped around my waist as he guides me through every step.

As soon as we reach my room, I drop to the carpet like a star fish and just lay there for a minute with my eyes closed. For the first moment that night, I didn't feel like hell. Until I opened my eyes and saw that the devil himself was still standing in my room.

"You can leave now," I instruct, propping myself up on my elbows.

He's standing in the door frame, holding the door knob in his hand. He turns it back and forth quietly, almost as if thinking.

"Do you need water, or something?" He asks.

I roll my eyes. He can't be serious.

"What I need, is for you to leave," I argue. I didn't care if I was acting childish or dramatic. At the moment, my heart was hurting with betrayal. "Oh, and what I also need is for you to stop acting like you care when we both know you don't."

My tone was definitely harsh, and I knew it cut into him by the creasing of his forehead.

"Okay," is all he says at first. He turns to leave, but stops himself, telling me, "I do care though."

I snicker.

"Well you have a shit way of showing it."

He leaves after that. I hear him shut the front door behind him.

I do everything angrily. I peel off the shirt that sticks to my skin from rain and hurl it across my room, and it hits the wall, falling to the floor in a sad wet pile. I peel of my jeans and it's fate is the same as the shirt. Now, I'm in my bra and underwear, crawling around my bedroom floor on my knees and hands because I'm too dizzy to stand. I drag myself up and into my bed and I get under the covers.

My phone buzzes on the bedside table, and I make out the caller I.D from whoever's ringing. It's Jal, but I don't feel like talking. She leaves a text, asking where I was and if I was safe, and I reply, "at home, safe."

I felt pathetic. And the worse part was that I didn't know if my feelings were valid. Did I have a right to be mad at Tony? Did I have a right to feel cheated on? We weren't together, but we definitely were more than friends. But knowing Tony, he most definitely just saw me as another conquest. But if that were the case, then why did he seem to care so much? Or was that just part of the game too, to keep me strung along and to pull me back in?

These questions run through my head and I argue with myself all night. I don't get any sleep.