Scomiche One Shots

Never Over You

A/n   This one hurts. Sorry, guys. The song used is called Never Over You by Rozzi Crane. i'm obsessed with it. I listened to it on repeat for nearly three days straight while writing this. 

Do me a favor and hug your loved ones and tell them you love them.

Thanks for reading.

-Belle

***

     Mitch felt sick to his stomach. Not only from the after-effects of too much vodka, but from the blurry swirl of memories from last night.

He doesn't wear a walk of shame well, he knew that, but here he was leaving an apartment complex that he really wished was his own house and wandering down the street to find where his Uber driver had ended up. He could still feel the power behind his decisions last night, anger and spite fueling him and pumping through his veins. But they felt like glue, trudging through him slowly now, not like the hot fast emotions he felt before making rash decisions on a whim just to feel something other than annoyance.

He rubbed his face and stood on a corner for about four minutes too long. The drive home broke his steel resolve and his carefully constructed mask holding him together started to break as the consequences of his actions came crashing down over him the closer he got to home.

To their home.

Mitch looked down at the silver ring on his finger and covered his throat with his other hand, it burning on the inside and out as tears forced their way out of him, and last night's alcohol threatened to reappear.

He messed up. He messed up really bad.

He was angry and hurt and wanted Scott to hurt too.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep shaky breath did nothing to help the painful flick of memories and images of the wild night he had. He wished that it was a dream, that he could take back everything that he spent the night doing to prove that he didn't need anyone. Even Scott.

But that was the biggest lie he had ever told. The only person he ever needed was Scott and he knew that when he married him. Knew that he was his person. The only one that loved him unconditionally and supported every single dream he had.

Mitch had never hated himself more than stepping out of the Uber and looking at his home. A home he created with the love of his life. He had probably managed to ruin everything good left with one simple decision.

It was embarrassing how late in the afternoon it was. His phone was dead, his clothes disgusting, his makeup... he didn't even want to know what he looked like right now.

Mitch hoped he was gone from the house so he could get himself together. Clear his mind and figure out how to just be honest with Scott, because he knew that he had fucked up royally. And he wouldn't lie about where he'd been because that would eat away at him worse than it already was.

Mitch quietly shoved the key in the lock and stepped inside his house.

It was quiet.

He squatted to unlace his boots and ditch them by the door, needing to be out of them. He wasn't even sure if he had taken them off last night during-

It didn't matter. He had them off now. He stepped quietly farther into his house and crossed his arms. It felt cold. Uninviting. The once warm and comfortable space felt barren and clinical.

There was no love flowing, just cold expensive décor.

He couldn't keep his emotions in, shame and guilt filling his every cell. His face and throat burned from fighting the inevitable, but worse, his stomach was twisting violently. Angry at him for putting it through what it had and then coming home to face what he'd done.