Missing [ST]

Seventy

"You better have a really good explanation Steven, because right now? I'm assuming the very worst."

Holding the blanket to her collarbone with a firm palm, the orange pill bottle in her other hand, Leah felt like she had discovered she had been cheated on. The disappointment she had in herself for believing perfect could exist was shaking her grip, and tears were waiting to fall.

She could feel them now, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stop them.

"They're to help with anxiety," Steven admitted, sliding the closest pillow across his lap. He had sat cross-legged in the meantime, covering his modesty. "Rehab has been a long process and they just...allow me to cope better."

Leah watched his eyes. She watched how he kept them up on hers like he was focused on trying to promise her that drugs were in the past. Side to side she took in his plea, a pair of the most beautiful browns that she could look into all day, except instead of their charm, she only saw broken trust.

Clutching the bottle into a fist, she lifted her chin accusingly at him.

"Why are you lying to me?"

Steven was already shrugging innocently.

"I'm not lying!"

The tears were close, her voice had already thickened, and it was becoming more and more difficult to breathe steadily.

"You're not sober, are you?" she refined quietly, letting the grooves of the cap dig into her palm.

"Leah, of course I am!" Steven exclaimed, clutching the front edge of the pillow across his lap. "I did it for you! All of this, I did for you!"

But Leah was shaking her head, nibbling on the inside of her lip, because not even pressing her eyes closed could push back the tears.

Blinded by his elegant haze, she wondered if any of it was real, if every feeling, every touch, and every kiss was just fuelled by drugs. That they had controlled him, and she had fallen for someone that wasn't real.

"Please, I- please say something?"

A tear slipped down her cheek to the sound of his voice. A voice that she knew could admit his truth and honesty because she had heard and witnessed every little detail of a buried confession, but in a moment like this, had been forgotten.

It gave her a glimpse of a heartbreaking end that an hour ago, or even ten minutes ago, would've never seen the light of day, let alone cross her mind. All, because she had been falling for him and imagining a future with him.

"I don't want you to do it for me!" It hurt to look at a face she no longer recognised. "You shouldn't be doing it for me, when this is about you! You, Steven!"

In the time it took for Leah to drop her fisted hand to her side and hold up the blanket closer to her neck, Steven scooted closer. His legs dangled over the edge of the bed in front of her, skinny limbs with a fading tan like the rest of his body, and his back hunched in submission.

"I take the pills on the days it hurts the most," he said, an unbelievable dose of care in every word. "If I had the choice, I would take them everyday and I wouldn't stop."

It was something, but it wasn't enough. Leah's nose was tingling, lips wobbling, and being in a closer proximity to him, challenged her focus.

Steven sighed, tapping his wrist on the pillow across his lap. He was rubbing his middle finger where he usually had a fancy, heavily decorated silver ring. A detail that indicated he was probably nervous, and nerves didn't prove a guilty man innocent.