oh, it's you | wroetoshaw

20

last night was a strange one. how can someone be so toxic yet so caring? he simply proved to everyone else how much he cannot stand me, yet behind closed doors everything is so different. i guess he is just a smooth talker when we are alone, knowing how to get me to give in to his plea's and initially, i was okay with that as i was exactly the same. now it is a mixture of confusion and feelings, amongst the distaste yet comfort he sometimes brings me.

knee's tucked up to my chest, sat in my comfiest pyjamas, i stare blankly at my tv in front of me. after last night, i feel quite numb, almost switched off. none of the lousy, outdated jokes on the movie playing can even make me crack a smile and i usually chuckle at everything and anything. my heart feels as though it has made a permanent place in my stomach, the awful pit sat there, an overwhelming mixture of hangover and despair.

my phone has been flooded with messages from my friends, some trying to excuse harry's bitter insults on the amount of alcohol he consumed, even though i have seen that boy at possibly his most drunk and he has never been that harsh. other's are asking if i am okay, telling me to not listen to him or they will be having words. but this is between harry and i, i acted upon it myself by calling things off, even if i did not want to. when i got into bed, all i could think about was his arms snaked around me, my head pressed against his warm body after both having drunk sex. but i was alone, yearning for something, for him. i hate myself for it.

maybe we do need the distance, maybe this should not have happened in the first place. we dislike each other, that is how it has always been and i do not know what part of me thought that could change. false hope, i guess? it could have been my chance to be friends with everyone, not consistently rile up drama which is pathetic and unexplainable, to not feel like i am constantly avoiding one single person just to steer clear of his dirty looks and taunts.

but i learnt so much about harry. his awkward mannerisms and social interaction, the way he sometimes hate's eye contact even in the most intimate moments and how often he stumbles over his own words when something takes him by surprise. i never noticed that about him before, we were too busy in our own little world spitting insults at one another that we never got to know one another. i guess that is what has also made me like him, actually learning about him as a person and noticing the little things about him, the realisation we actually share common interests.

vibrations hum against the sofa, still being overwhelmed with one too many messages from people. i wish that they could just leave it and forget about it so that i can. my eyes roll when that specific vibration rattles repeatedly, indicating that someone is calling me. "fuck my life." i huff, glaring at the caller id, 'harry'. taking a deep breath in, i turn my head away from it and try to focus on the tv, but when it ends it rings again and again, to a point where i want to launch the device over my balcony.

slowly lifting it up, i give in and decide to hear what he has to say for himself. sliding my finger across the screen, place it against my ear and hiss, "what do you want?"

"iris."

"what, harry?"

"i want to talk to you." he sighs, i can almost feel his regret through the phone, but i cannot allow myself to forgive him.

"there's nothing to talk about, harry." i gulp, "i told you last night, we're done. i can't be arsed with it anymore."

harry practically whines, "iris, please. i'm coming round."

"i beg you don't come round, i don't wanna talk to you." i huff.

"we need to talk, properly."

"whatever." i grumble, "do what you want." i end the call and slam my phone against the cushions. i had no intention of seeing him so soon after last night, but once again i gave in to his plea's and begging as i always do, like the idiot i am. now it is just a waiting game.