More Than He Was Going For (Austin Mahone Love Story)

Chapter Twenty-Two

I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry all the way home. Of course, in front of everyone else, I wanted to give off this strong "bad girl" persona, but i literally couldn't be that way when I was by myself. All I could think about was Austin and Becky hurting me and running me over, as if I deserved any of it. Especially when I hadn't done shit to either of them.
    In the midst of all my thoughts and the immense amount of traffic on the road, my thoughts trailed to my life before Austin and my time dating Cody. I swear, I thought I loved Cody with every bit of me, and I'm sure that I did. A part of me always will love him, especially since he took my virginity and was my first for a lot of things. I was so happy until Cody broke my heart, and I could never forget those nights on the tour bus where I would drink my pain away. That was until I replaced the drinking with the condolences of Austin, who comforted me as I cried, and took advantage of my vulnerable heart.
  That was where I should've stopped. I knew I wasn't completely lost as far as what Austin was doing, deep down I didn't really believe that he had changed, but I felt like he was all I had, like he was my only hope. I needed someone to be by my side like Cody had been, someone to love me, and I convinced myself that person was Austin, and I fell in love with the thought of him. It wasn't very hard either, since he did a damn good job pretending to love me.
    My memory flashed back to the very first time we had sex, leaving my tear stained eyes with a small smile. Everything was so perfect, more perfect than it had been with Cody. Austin knew what he was doing, and it was beautiful.

    "Come for me baby," he said in my neck, softly moaning against my skin. I scratched his back, and wrapped my legs tighter around his waist, pushing my heels into the dimples of his back as I released myself quickly and moaned out loudly. Austin's thrusts became softer, and slower, as he too finally released, moaning and kissing my neck.
The both of us laid in bed next to each other, heavily breathing and smiling. He leaned over my body once more and softly kissed my lips, letting out a quiet "I love you" before admiring my sweaty and red face. I giggled before running my hands through his natural curly hair, biting my lip and letting out an equally as soft "I love you too," in return. 

  Those thoughts brought me into hysterical tears. How could a moment so perfect lead to this? His eyes held so many signs of love and admiration, yet here I was, alone in a sick ass Camaro, crying my heart out. It didn't take long for my mind to wander off to the night he came to my house on the balcony, apologizing for his actions.

"I can't move on from you," he said softly, placing his hands on my waist. "I love you, I really love you."

"Austin you have a girlfriend," I stated pushing him back.

"Fuck Camila, Summer. I want you!" He said, tears evident in his eyes.

"And yet you still fucked Becky," I said aloud, as the moment replayed in my head over and over. Thinking about it would only make it worse, and the headache that was building up from all of my intense crying didn't make me feel any better, for a matter of fact, it made it worse.

When I got back to my house, I immediately took two pain pills to ease my headache. I felt absolutely terrible, and I could only imagine how I looked, but I didn't even care. All I wanted was a nice, long, hot bubble bath and a few glasses of leftover champagne that my mother had carelessly left when she had last visited. I hadn't drunken it until now, but why not?
   I filled the tub with bubbles and a few bath bombs, pouring glass after glass of the bottle of champagne, beginning to feel a little tipsy. I then pulled my hair up and cranked up the music in my bathroom, dancing around as I continued to fill up my glass each time it was emptied. I knew as I sat in the tub, drowning out my thoughts, that I was reaching the point of drunken-ness, but i didn't care.
    My drunk mind led to question whether or not I actually took my pain medicine, which conveniently laid on the counter.

"Ah screw it," I said, taking another two pills and washing them down with the champagne. What I didn't realize in this moment as I was far beyond drunk was that, I would do the same thing again, only about an hour later. Did I take those pain pills?
Before I knew it, I trailed off into a deep drunken drugged sleep, slipping underneath the water as the warmth enveloped me and kept me comfortable, as my body began to turn cold. The last thing I remembered was the yelling and screaming of someone, but I felt as though I couldn't hold on. Like I was getting weaker.
I could feel my naked body being snatched up as a warm familiar presence enveloped me and shook me. Despite this, I just couldn't open my eyes. I was dying, and I knew it.