Pain Killer

7 ~ Cake > Love

I was reading a fellow wattpader's book and in her playlist, she included this song. intrigued, i clicked on the song which is something i don't normally do (as the hypocrite that i am, putting songs in my books that i expect YOU to listen to ;P). anywho, the lyrics, bro, the LYRICS. it's like they were meant for this book, so you understand the situation i'm in, you see i HAVE to put this song on here.

^^^^^^^

The walk eventually circles back to the bridge. I'm not sure how it happened because I certainly wasn't the one navigating.

The sky is now a dark shade of blue, almost undiscernible from black. A part of me doesn't want to go home. Perhaps because this insistent weirdo is the first person that I truly felt listened to me. I don't want to admit it, but I can't ignore it either. This is the thing I wanted so badly for so long. Someone who listens, who can understand.

I'm annoyed at myself. It's driving me nuts.

The silence eats up what's left of our conversation, but I haven't noticed. My thoughts swirl around my head, circling around the questions I can't seem to answer. Why don't I want to go home? Why can't I make up my mind about this guy? How am I going to face Martha tonight? Is that why I'm avoiding going home? What does he mean, help me find the reason?

The thoughts go blurry as I feel Uri's eyes fall upon my sullen face. "I have a question, but I don't want you to run away."

"If you're asking for a hug, then no. I'm too tired to run away though."

He smirks. We stop at a bench, a block or two past the bridge.

I'm the first to sit down, drawing my knees up to my chest. It's become a habit because benches aren't comfortable for my short legs. Uri sits beside me, just an inch too close. The soft knit of his jacket touches my hoodie sleeve.

"I think I figured out why you're so confused about what to think of me." Uri looks intently at me.

I try not to make it obvious how my face shifts in discomfort.

"The first time we met, you were tired or something, but you didn't have your walls to defend yourself with."

Where is this going? I remain silent, the first signs of a stomachache surfacing.

"And not twenty-four hours later, you do everything you can to push me away." Uri presses his lips, his eyebrows knitted in concentration at my face. "And then the third time, you seem to accept me, but make it clear you don't trust me." I can feel the confusion in every word, heavy like a morning fog. "Delilah, what made you like this?"

I clench my jaw. "That's none of your business." The response is timed, queued if that's possible, like a defense mechanism. I'm not sure how to turn it off.

"How many times do I have to tell you this? You can trust me!"

"Can I?" I bite back, my fingers curling around my skirt. My face grows hot, the sound of the ocean filling my ears. Dry tears.

"Why do you shut people out and hold on to them at the same time? You tell them to get lost as you grab onto them as if they're life support!" Uri says, his words agitated and bumpy. "I don't get it..."

I hear everything clearly, but it takes a few moments to process. The words echo inside me, ringing true. Painfully true. It's a different sort of pain than what I'm used to. It feels disarming. My defense mechanisms don't know what to do. They malfunction in my throat as I let myself be carried away in the dry tears.