Muse [18+] • REVISING

34 | Closer

V E R A

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"Maybe I should just give him a call instead," I frantically chimed as my hands moved quicker than my brain could comprehend, packing a suitcase I had no intention of going anywhere with.

Trying to blow out steady breaths, the anxiety only heightened and had me pacing around Cordelia as I tried to busy myself with nonsense chores. The last couple of days had been nothing but a cloudy mess as I tried to navigate how to reach out to Damien and the funniest thing was that this had been the first time I ever had an issue with being the shoulder to cry on. It wasn't that I wouldn't be able to handle tears from the man that I love but more so, having to see him break for another time and knowing I wouldn't be able to reciprocate in a way that was anything more than a friend would be the very thing that sends me down a dark rabbit hole.

Then I thought, we could be friends, right? The both of us were adults. If we couldn't maintain civility with each other, then what kind of people were we? The kind of people desperately in love, the voice in my head answered. Civility between us would take a metal ball chained to our ankles, slowing us down, and keeping us at least ten feet in distance. There was new territory to be trotted, new boundaries to be set, and a whole lot of willpower to stop me from falling apart, jelly legs and all, the second I'm in his presence again.

If I ever choose to get on that goddamn train.

As Damien does, he moves with intention and plans to finish. That being said, a proper funeral is in the midst of being planned as I bite at my nails and pretend not to go insane. I can only think about a man who has lost his mother only less than forty-eight hours ago, one that he had gotten back for less than a month, go through all of this by himself. He told Nicolas he'd be okay to get through it but, the worry on Nicolas' face told me that his best friend could very well be on the verge of collapsing.

Seeing right through him, Nicolas and Cordelia booked three train tickets to Avignon for this afternoon, making sure to book mine first so that I wouldn't back out of seeing him. He needs you, was what the agonizing look on Nicolas' face begged. Continuing to pack away too many clothes, I wanted nothing more than to contort myself into the smallest shape and hide away in this suitcase. Maybe be shipped off to another country, change my identity, and never be found ever again. It would definitely be easier that way.

But silly little Vera does not do easy. She likes it rough, raw, and way too fucking difficult. Something about the latter that turns her on. The mess that only continues to unravel in her lap has her gasping for air and begging for more as if there's a tattoo across her forehead that reads—give it to me and give it to me good, sir.

"I fucking hate my life," I fall back onto the ship-sized bed, meant for two, maybe three or even four, but only occupied by one.

"Who knew you were so dramatic?" Cordelia noted from the closet, voice coming clearer as she walked out with a crimson bikini set in her hand and tossing it at me.

"What's this for?"

"His mother's house has a pool," she shrugged, trying to hide a smile. As if our tickets are not booked for the sole reason of attending a funeral and comforting a man who is grieving.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm sure Amelia would love for all of us to take a midnight dive and catch up...or maybe just you and pretty boy," her loudness cuts off into a provocative whisper before she turns around, retreating into the closet.

"Excuse me? I heard that," I threw the two-piece into the suitcase and went after her. "His mother just passed away and you're thinking about sex?"