Chapter Thirty-Five: Don't Go Slow.

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If you stay, I promise to keep it alight.

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I'm lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling as I go through the last hour in my head.

"Fuck!" I gasp when I remember the moment I lost my temper, and I cover my face with both hands.

How did I let that happen to me? That is not who I am, or who I want to be. But the thought of her leaving me for something that I can't control hurt and frustrated me to the point where I couldn't even think straight.

"Hey, are you asleep?" Louis's head is poking through the half open door that connects our rooms. "Mind if I come in?"

I prop myself on my elbows and I look at him, nodding my head reluctantly. I don't think I'm in the mood for a late night chat, but I know that I won't be sleeping either. And pretty much anything sounds better than to stay awake and wallow on self-pity.

The door opens up wider and Louis comes in, followed by the rest of the lads. I frown and sit up straight, while the three of them invade my space and find different places to settle in.

"So, what's going to be?" Niall is holding a football PlayStation game in one hand and a pack of beer in the other.

"Both, I guess." I smile lazily and he nods.

"So... Rough day, uh?" Liam is the first one to find the courage to break the ice.

It has been almost thirty minutes since we've started drinking and playing, and all the while we have been in silence, aside from the usual screaming that comes with the virtual competition.

"You can say that, yes." I respond, dropping the controller on the mattress when I get slammed at yet another match, and rolling my eyes at a very annoying Niall. "I'm out."

He punches me on the side while calling me a sore loser, and after returning him the favor, I get up and serve myself another beer. Louis, who was complaining rather loudly about wanting to play, doesn't waste any time and takes my place.

"I heard about this morning." Liam follows me, talking in a discrete volume. "Want to talk about it?"

I shrug nonchalantly as I take a sip, considering his offer. The only reason why I let them hang around was to take my mind off of things, but since it is clearly not working, I might as well just vent.

"That's not even the tip of the iceberg, mate. She's trying to dump me." I say once the beer has gone down my throat, feeling how it actually tries to come right back up at the thought of her leaving me.

He looks at me with a confused and surprised expression on his face.

"She's trying to dump you?" He repeats, clearly puzzled by my choice of words.

"Yes." I shrug again. "I won't let her, though."

Something happens inside of me when I say that; like a sense of some hope being restored. The feeling that all I have to do is show her how good we are and how great we can truly be if we set our minds and hearts on it.

We have what it takes; she has to at least acknowledge that much.

"That's really confident of you. I admire that." He says, and I don't fail to notice a somewhat condescending tone.

"What?" I growl, and he seems rattled by my reaction.

Okay. Maybe that patronizing thing was a product of my imagination. Probably. Most likely.

"Nothing... I really do admire your tenacity, man." He rushes to say, showing me his palms in a sign of reverence. "But sometimes, the things we want, no matter how badly we want them, just can't happen. Believe me, I should know. And you need to be prepared for that or else, it will kill you."

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