Someone Like You -Phillip Altman x Reader-

Failure, Disappointment and Sex

Warning ⚠️: Angst, dirty talking, smut 😏

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The evening had turned to night and the breeze had evolved into cold by the time you weren't crying anymore, but even if you weren't crying, you still felt down, you were still numb, and hurt, and disappointed and mad. Mad at life and it's stupid fucking fucked up humor, and the toll it was taking on you, the way a dumb detail crumbled you so easily, you had been so sure of not knowing this morning, you wanted to go back.

Go back to finally feeling like you were done with your mourning, and you could get back to try and be happy, going back to feeling strong enough to tackle this, to get through this, because you weren't a disappointment, you just weren't happy.

But if you weren't happy, why did it affect you so much? Why did you care?

You could hear the faint sounds inside the Altman's house, you focused on them, you focused on the noises of the night, the crickets' faint music in the now misty grass of the lawns, your eyes were closed and you focused on this sensations, not wanting to think of anything else. Just then you heard a lighter, and a few moments later, the rustling of steps in the grass, but you didn't bother to look up.

-I think I've seen this picture before...- you heard Phillip say.

You knew what he was talking about, your prom night. Your date had ditched you to go get drunk with friends because you didn't want to go, it was embarrassing, and you sat on this same step, with your prom dress, disappointed and sad. Phillip was casually coming out of his house to go to a party, but he stopped to ask if you were okay, you dismissed him, trying to joke through the situation, you still remembered what he told you.

"Did he at least tell you how pretty you look?"

He had made you blush and smile, and he smiled himself before going off to his party, but at least he made you feel a little better.

This was different though, you looked up at him, wiping your face from almost dry tears and sniffing, and when you looked his face had gotten softer, illuminated by the faint light from inside your house coming through the half open door, he looked at you with his glistening eyes, now showing empathy, and extended the cigarette to you.

You took it, taking a long drag, it felt right, it felt nice. You used to smoke, when your dad died, and at parties during college, but you tried hard not to, because it wasn't good, and it left you with a yucky after taste. But right now you didn't give a shit. Phillip sat down next to you.

-Shitty day?- he asked.

You cocked a brow, taking a another drag.
-Shitty is about right...- you stated.

He nodded.
-Wanna talk about it?-

You puffed the air out.
-My ex is a gaslighting douchebag, and my co worker just got promoted in a job I didn't like but it still pisses me off...-

You handed back the cigarette to him, he was looking at you in an even softer way than usual, today with Jenna you didn't want to share, but with him you felt like rambling every detail.

-And i was feeling so good today...i had been feeling like crap these last couple of days because i thought i had like, i don't know, fucked up at adulting? You know? The nice job was gone, the stable relationship was gone, and all in a miserable fucking day. I felt so...useless, and disappointing.- you trailed off, running a hand through your hair.

When you lifted your eyes to look at him again, he was puffing air off his nose, his brow was slightly knitted together in concern, and his lips were pressed in empathy, you knew you had tears in your eyes, you didn't feel like wiping them away. He leaned to the side, slightly closer to you, and spoke.