#haha can't be 6ft NOW can ya

[anonymitywriterprescott]

WIP

Knock, knock, knock. The door swings open, and his eyes meet mine. "Love, fucking, sucks" You slur, as you lean on the door frame attempting to keep your balance. He hesitated. "You're drunk" "You're sober" You huffed. He pulls you inside, closing the door behind you as you crash onto his couch. "Actually, I'm not" You can hear the pop of a bottle top and the clinking of glasses as he gets them out of the cabinet. Sitting beside you he puts down the glasses, and what you now see is vodka, on the table in front of you. Reaching behind you, he grabs the blanket on the back of the couch. You can smell the vodka on his breath already, mixed with the scent of his clothes, blood, cigarettes and … something burnt? You didn't wanna know. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders, "It's freezing out, did you walk here?" "No, I teleported" Sarcasm dripping off your words, you grab the bottle and pour both of you a drink. "Oh haha, funny, how did you get here because you better not have been stupid enough to drive" "I didn't" He grunts, you can't tell if he's happy you didn't drive or upset you walked in the snow. "So I know why love sucks but why do you think that? something happen with you and Mr. Unknown?"

You stay silent, downing the vodka as quickly as you can.

The air hangs, he shifts on the couch to turn towards you more.

"You know those 2 guys we saved last night?" Taking the lid off the bottle. "The ones in the coffee shop or the ones in the car on makeout mountain?" "The car" You take a good swig of the vodka, honestly it's more of a chug but you don't realize that til you start choking on your burning throat. "Bloody hell, what about them?" "Well, Mr. Unknown was also the blonde one in the car, aka the one riding Mr. 6ft bodybuilder in the front seat" The rasp in your voice is hard to ignore and at this point, you don't know if it's the alcohol burn or the tears your holding back. "Oh shit" You hand him the bottle, he takes a drink (tbd)

"Yeah

and I couldn't, fucking, tell anyone, I was surrounded by my friends and I couldn't tell a fucking soul that I just saw my entire world crashing down because I'm such a fucking good person that I still didn't want to out him" "Plus ya know, the whole 'stitching up [names] stab wound and making sure she doesn't die' thing" "Well yeah that too"

You go to grab the bottle and take another drink, this time the burn feels faint, barely like pins and needles. You swing your legs, laying them over his and lay the blanket over your arms.

"Sometimes I wish I was a worse person" "What, like me?" "I didn't say that. I can't tell anyone what happened, I shouldn't be even telling you, because it doesn't matter that he broke my heart, I promised I wouldn't tell anyone and I would be a shitty person if I started telling people because it's shitty to out him. But now I can't even tell my best friends, people who have literally saved my life, who my fucking ex-boyfriend is and why we broke up, I'm forced to keep it secret and pretend everything is alright but it's not and maybe he's shitty for putting me in this position but…" You lose steam, all of your anger slowly turning to grief.

"It's not fair" "He's shitty for doing this to you" "I know"

#m4m #writing #tumblr writers #writers of tumblr #writerscommunity #writers and poets #prescottstories #this is 100% written with #spike btvs #in mind (where he always is rent free) #and maybe ill make it an actual fic and continue it #also idk if i like it in 3rd person or if I should change it to 1st?