and then you left // cth

chapter 41: the end of something special

alexis

As we walk into Calum's apartment, I become aware how utterly exhausted I am. My head aches, my stomach growls, and my shoulders are weighted. I can't do this anymore.

I sigh and shut the door behind us. He didn't open the door for me the way he used to do. No, instead he opened it weakly for himself and nearly let it slam behind him. If I wouldn't have caught the door, it would have locked before I could even enter the apartment. I wonder if he even would have come back for me.

Immediately, he collapses onto the sunken sofa, leaving me to deal with the damage that he has done, or that we both have done. He doesn't even bother to turn on the lights. In this sense, it seems to me that he is giving up. He leaves me to turn on the lights for him, but I am too stubborn for that, and so we sit in darkness.

I will hold open doors for myself all day long, but I will not turn on the lights for his benefit.

It doesn't matter much anyway; The sun will rise soon, to announce the beginning of the new day. A fresh start, or so it was supposed to be. But it seems that there are no fresh starts for the heartbroken, ain't no rest for the wicked, not when the past is so overwhelming, as it is for us.

Calum just sits there and stares at the wall, and I can feel the anger burning in my chest at his lack of action. But what angers me most is the way I find it cute the way he is slouching, and it takes absolutely everything in me not to curl up next to him so that we both can sleep this night off.

In attempt to distract myself, I take this opportunity to glance around the apartment. It's messy, in such a way that no longer comforts me. It used to be that his lack of organization was cute and careless, but now it seems lazy and disgusting. The dirty windows and counters make me shudder almost as much as the posters on the wall are crooked.

And it is now that I finally realize that I no longer see the world through rose colored glass and that this less bias side of things is much, much uglier.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him get up. He leaves the couch, hanging his head low as he walks over to the fridge, as if he is ashamed of something. I assume he is going to get a snack for the both of us, but I couldn't be more wrong. Instead, he pulls out a beer. He examines the glass bottle and then looks at me and offers me one.

"No Calum, I don't want a fucking beer," I try to yell at him, but my voice comes out all quiet and defeated. It seems my body is beginning to give up this fight; The fight for us, the fight for happiness.

It is during this moment when I really feel things start to end, and suddenly the worry that nothing is ever going to get better hits me, and nearly knocks me down. If I was stuck like this for the rest of my life-unhappy, unsatisfied, in search of something better- I think I'd kill myself.

And then he sighs and puts the beer back, and for just a split second I can see our future again. It is beautiful and golden and full of laughter and love. Maybe he decided he doesn't need a drink, not when I am here to take care of him.

But instead, he opens up a cabinet next to the fridge, and pulls out a bottle of vodka.

And everything in me shatters, all at once. I sit down.

He examines the label for a moment and mutters something unintelligible to himself, and then he opens it up with such experience and ease that it actually pains me. And then he takes a swig, and it's a strong swig, and he tilts his head back so that it comes out faster. He swallows it as it comes down, without stopping. And then at least a third of the bottle is gone, and so if all of my hope.

He doesn't even grimace, not even a little bit. Instead, he keeps a straight face. And when he is done he swings the bottle around a little bit and laughs a terrible, haunting laugh.