Song of the chapter: She Will Always Hate Me by James Blunt
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
☙❦❧
MADDOX hated to acknowledge it.
Two weeks.
And the pain hadn't left. It just made its presence even more known.
He knocked on the mahogany door in front of him with his breath hitched. He wasn't sure if coming to her house was a good idea. After everything that happened, it just didn't seem right.
But she was always there for him and he had a feeling that she wouldn't push him away even now.
Opening the door, Tiana blinked in surprise.
"Maddox," she quietly whispered to herself looking at him with shock and confusion.
He swallowed back his hesitation. It was too late now.
"Tiana," he breathed with a certain weight of sadness crushing his lungs, "Can I come in?"
She rolled her lower lip inward, eyebrows furrowed as she pondered over the idea of him in her house. She sighed with her eyes closed before opening the door all the way and moving to the side, allowing him to pass through.
As he stepped into her home, everything felt dull. Her house didn't seem lively anymore, it was as if something had changed. He just wasn't sure what it was.
"Upstairs?" he questioned with uncertainty.
She shook her head, "The living room is fine."
Things were different now. The relationship between the two had changed as well.
He nodded his head in false understanding before sitting down on the couch. She made her way beside him curling into herself and resting her head on her knees.
"So," she mumbled, "what brings you here?"
Inhaling sharply, he wasn't ready to accept what had happened. If he were to voice his situation, he'd no longer be denying what he'd been trying to deny since it happened.
So with a shake of his head, he went in another direction.
"I need to forget."
~•~
The two bottles of scotch were empty as the third was close to finished as well and the harsh smell of their drinking could be detected from a mile away.
They drank to oblivion, hoping to find some kind of answer between the bottom of this bottle and probably the next and the one afterwards. They drank in silence, only mumbling senseless sentences, slurring their speech dramatically. Few words exchanged between them as the night dragged on.
