metulji - jan peteh

Gone - Jan POV

It was difficult to get my mind off the situation at hand - after all, everything had managed to go to shit in a matter of minutes. It took mere moments after me telling Lilia that we were leaving for Slovenia for her to fall apart. For us to fall apart. She didn't give me a chance to explain, just robbed me of my words and tried to exit immediately. I had wanted to clasp onto her hand so badly, to beg her not to leave, to ask for another chance to make all of this up to her. But I restrained myself; let her walk out of the door.

It takes a lot to admit you're wrong - I'll admit it, I messed up; I should've told her about coming back home. But the way she looked at me every time I got close to telling her, that longing, yearning look that begged for me to heal her heartache sent me back into my shell. I wanted to protect her from the truth, however stupid it sounded.

Bojan had obviously tried to resolve the situation immediately, as he does with most things. He practically dragged me and Jure out of the apartment and over to the lift as Nace and Kris had gone outside to retrieve her unconscious body. I couldn't even look at her; even though she wouldn't know I had done given her state, I didn't want to hurt her further.

She had opened up to me about every dickhead before me, told me what they'd done to her and how scared she'd been to try to love again. And I managed to fuck it up, somehow.

'I don't want you to feel alone again.' I had told her, feeling her head slowly lull into my chest - she was drifting off to my words. Obviously exhausted, I felt her attempt at nodding, which made me laugh a little. I tried to keep the noise down, not wanting to disturb her as she fell into rest.

Once she'd fallen asleep, which I felt from the sudden limpness of her figure, her mouth suddenly fell open and produced a low noise. I remembered the way she'd told me that she only snored when she felt safe; otherwise, she hid it carefully.

She felt safe with me.

I fucked all of that up. Our closeness, the way she'd wanted to be around me.

I should've told her from the start.

But somewhere inside me was a voice telling me that it wasn't all my fault - she'd accused me of things that hadn't happened, maybe in an attempt to strengthen her point? I picked the top for her because I thought it was a style she liked. The boys made comments because that's just what we do to each other to tease. I put the condom on the table because I didn't need it, and I didn't want her to think that I was using her for sex. Nothing like the things she'd used as ammo to shoot me right through the heart.

'You need a fucking cig.' Jure said, as he handed me a pack from his pocket. At that moment I realised that my body was incredibly tense; my head didn't move fluidly towards him, but rather jerked in one quick motion. Ripping open the packet, I took the first one I laid my fingers on, and Jure lit it for me with the lighter in his hand.

Bojan had barely spoken since we left; aside from a few mutters, he remained completely silent. His eyes had been glued to his phone, and his fingers tapped repeatedly over the on-screen keyboard. Now, he spoke for the first time, his voice slightly husky due to not using it for a while.

'Kris just messaged me. He doesn't want us back for at least a few hours.'

'She's awake though, right?' I questioned instinctively, regretting it immediately; my mind instantly snapped back to where it was before as I began to wallow in regret.

'Yeah. She just doesn't want us there.' Bojan said plainly.

I took a swig of my beer to hide my pained expression.

'Why would we want to go back anyway?' Jure asked rhetorically, holding his beer up in a sort-of toast. I ignored him, rolling my eyes irritatedly.

'Read the room.' Bojan uttered, just loud enough for the pair of us to hear, while shooting Jure a glare. I couldn't understand why he was so tense - this had nothing to do with him.