Book 3: You Don't Want My Love (Slash FanFic)

Ch. 23: Heartless

"I'm so sorry. Seriously, I can't stress enough...I'm so sorry."

"Really, it's fine."

"It's not fine. I'm so embarrassed!"

"I promise you, I've done much worse while drunk."

"Well...I don't doubt that...."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. Apparently I wasn't the one needing to apologize for acting like an idiot. This time, it was Al. She was so mortified about how she had acted last night and would not leave me alone about it. She had apologized at least a million times since she had woken up this morning, and I really wished that she would just stop it already.

I was honestly just more worried about what she had admitted last night, about how she had been secretly taking care of me this entire time. Did that mean that she would be leaving me once Steven woke back up? Or would it be even sooner than that now that I had opened up a little more and apologized to her last night? Would she think that I was getting better, and that that would be a sign that her work here was done? I couldn't be sure, but I knew one thing: I really didn't want Al to go anywhere.

I didn't quite understand it myself since it's not like we'd spent a lot of time together or anything, but I felt like the few times we'd been close had been pretty monumental even if they were few and far between. Maybe I was just desperate and lonely since the band's split, maybe I needed a shoulder to cry on because of Steven's condition, or maybe I was just really horny since I hadn't been with a woman since that bunny the night I'd gotten the news about Stevie. Whatever the case, I suddenly felt very aware of Al's presence, and every move she made had me on edge.

I couldn't believe the effect that she suddenly had on me, how one night of us just talking to one another had managed to change my feelings about her so much. I vaguely remembered a time when I had told her she wasn't my type, that I wasn't interested in making her fall for me.

Yeah, how's that working out for you? I thought bitterly to myself.

Worse still, I remembered how she had also said I wasn't her type.

Face it, you're fucked.

I took a long swig of some Jack as Al walked through the kitchen in those tiny shorts she was always wearing. I tried not to make my staring obvious, and was eternally grateful for my wild bush of hair as it hid my hungry eyes. With every swing of her hips, I was becoming more and more hypnotized.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go at all.

"It's five o'clock somewhere, I guess," she joked, though her tone was scolding as she glared pointedly at the bottle in my hand. I quickly dropped my gaze before she could catch me staring. Hair in my face or not, I wanted to play it safe.

"Probably," I muttered in agreement, going back for more Jack.

"Any word on Steven?" She asked, rooting around in the fridge a moment before emerging with a carton of eggs.

"If there was, do you think I'd be here?" I grumbled.

"Okay, a simple 'no' would've been fine," she shot back. Her sheepish attitude from earlier had all but disintegrated completely, and Al was back to her old self within seconds of talking to me. I guess I just had that negative kind of effect on her.

I couldn't help my agitation. I was annoyed with life right now. My band had left me, my best friend could be fuckin' dying and leaving me alone on this shitty planet, and now this bitchy girl has grown on me and soon she's going to be leaving me too. I suppose I should've known that this arrangement wouldn't last forever, and in the beginning I hadn't even wanted any of it. But now, imagining this big, empty house getting even bigger and emptier...I grimaced at the thought.