Our Toxic Love

Chapter Fifty Three

-Ariana's POV-

I awake with a jolt.

The TV is still on and the livingroom is dark. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. But I don't know what woke me up at three a.m. I see a shadow pass by the open window next to me and I freeze.

I stand up cautiously and make sure the windows are closed. I feel my pulse begin to race as I hear something from the kitchen. I quickly rush to grab the flower pot on the coffee table. What if it's a murderer? I start to wonder if a good bang on the head with the flower pot would do him any good as I enter the empty kitchen.

My eyes drift to the backdoor near the counter and I frown. I almost jump as someone bumps into it and it rattles.

"Ouch, fuck," I hear someone mutter from the other side.

I narrow my eyes and place the flower pot on the table. I unlock the backdoor and open it to find Ethan holding a lawn ornament -- a pink flamingo.

He stumbles into the room and holds out the flamingo.

"You are as beautiful as Miss Pink," he grins.

"You're drunk," I think aloud.

He shakes his head lazily. "What makes you think that?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Ethan's hair is extremely disheveled and his eyes are red. His temple and cheekbone are now conspicuously blue from the fight he had earlier today.

"I," he gestures to himself, "miss," he motions to the lawn ornament, "you," he points at me.

I nod slowly. "But you just saw me today."

"I know," he puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Ethan... why're you holding a flamingo?" I ask.

He looks down at the pink bird and tilts his head, regarding it.

"Dunno," he admits. "I just found her and she reminded me of you."

He looks up at me, his expression completely blank.

"How many drinks have you had?" I ask.

"I lost count at... seven?" He frowns.

Ethan drops the flamingo to the floor. I wince at the noise it made.

"Ethan, my dad's asleep," I hiss.

"Your... ohhh, right, right," he waves it away. "Don't worry. I'll be as quiet as a... as a..."

"Mouse," I finish the sentence for him.

Ethan looks down to the ground.

"Where?" He questions.

I facepalm him. "It can't be healthy to have this much alcohol."

He puts his elbow on the counter to gain his balance. His arm suddenly slips and hits the flower pot which falls to the ground and cracks in half.

"Oops," he grins sheepishly.

I sigh, bending down to pick up the broken remains of the pot. I really hope my dad's still asleep.

"You have to go home," I say.

"No," he says flatly. "I miss you, Ariana."

I clean up the mess then stand back up.

"You couldn't have waited just a few more hours to see me at school?" I ask almost frustratedly.

"It's not like that," he whines. "I miss being able to dance with you and... and tease you and..." His voice trails away.