gilded » david dobrik au

eight

I woke up to an empty, still warm bed. It didn't freak me out. David almost always woke up naturally earlier than me. He usually showered or made breakfast. After checking the bathroom and brushing my teeth (with the spare toothbrush that was exactly where I left it), I went downstairs.

He was exactly where I thought he'd be, standing in front of the stove, awkwardly nudging the bacon back and forth to make sure it didn't burn. He looked up when I entered the kitchen, an unsure look on his face, like he didn't know how to start the conversation. He finally decided on, "I need a drink before I talk to you."

"It's barely 9 in the morning, David," I sighed, taking my usual place on the countertop. "If you need a drink to talk to me, I'm leaving."

"I just can't figure out what to say when I'm sober."

"Really? Because you seemed to have a lot to say every time you chased me down at school," I countered a bit sarcastically, sad that the conversation had already come to the point where I was annoyed.

"Yeah, because I wasn't sober," he said like it was obvious, and I immediately frowned.

"What do you mean you weren't sober? We were at school," I questioned.

"Yeah, they've never breathalyzed you at the door, have they?" he explained, and I furrowed my eyebrows. "I wasn't drunk... just not sober."

"Why would you get drunk every single day at eight in the morning?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

"Because seeing you sober made me want to die, but seeing you drunk made me want to die a little less."

I wasn't going to cry in front of him while he was sober, so instead I changed the subject while he sat a plate of bacon and cinnamon rolls beside me. I asked, "How much do you remember of last night?"

"All of it," he replied casually, jumping up on the counter to sit next to me. "I puked, like, right after you went to bed, so... I remember everything."

"Did you puke on me?"

"No, I got up," he half laughed, playing with the floppy piece of bacon on his plate. I liked floppy bacon, so that's how David always made our bacon. I was pretty sure he didn't like it, but he just did it to appease me. "I don't even know what to say. I'm so sorry, Mona."

"You are on some type of mutant form of crack if you think that's all I want to hear from you," I frowned, peeling the cinnamon roll. "When is the last time you slept with Gabbie?"

"The time you came over and she was upstairs was the last time I slept with her," he said, and I suspiciously raised my eyebrows. "I'm being serious! And I didn't even cum, so. I don't even think it counts."

"It counts," I snapped back, rolling my eyes that he would even think to say that. He was such a boy sometimes. "And Corinna?"

"What about Corinna?" he frowned, turning back the bottle of orange juice we were sharing.

"When's the last time you slept with her?"

"Um... I don't know who told you I fucked Corinna, but that never happened. Corinna has never even seen me naked. Corinna and I literally have never happened. We kissed once in eighth grade, but... who told you I fucked Corinna?" he finally asked, clear confusion on his face. I knew he was telling the truth because I knew David, so I wanted to know why Todd lied to me.

"You know who told me..."

"Then he's a fucking liar. I'm telling you, he exaggerated this shit just to get into your pants. Not saying that I did nothing wrong, but..." he tried to find the right words to say. "He probably lied about other stuff too."

"Okay," I said, not really wanting any elaboration on that. I sat for a minute, trying to think of what else I wanted to ask him. In the four months since I'd found out, I constantly had questions running through my head, but now, none of them seemed good enough.

It gave David enough of a pause to feel comfortable asking, "Are you going to break up with Todd?"

I laughed at that, awkwardly spinning my clean fork in between my fingers. "Todd and I aren't dating. And me and you are not getting back together right now anyways."

"Why not?" he frowned in confusion. "And why would you tell me you were dating Todd then?"

"I didn't tell you that. You assumed that, and then I... enhanced that assumption," I giggled to myself. It was true. I never planned on fake dating Todd until David thought he was my boyfriend. "And what do you mean why not? Of course we're not getting back together right now. You need help, David. Serious fucking help."

"What?"

"You told me last night that your mom's death traumatized you to the point that you didn't want to make emotional connections with anyone... for seven years. Your mental health is not in a good place. You need therapy, David," I told him honestly, not afraid to give him the cold hard facts.

"I'm not going to fucking therapy," he laughed like even the thought of going to therapy was crazy and unrealistic. It was at that point that I gave up, jumping off the counter and grabbing my phone.

"Then I'm leaving."

"What? Why?" he furrowed his eyebrows like my behavior thoroughly confused him. "Mona, there's nothing fucking wrong with me. I'm not going to therapy."

"I never said there was something wrong with you," I scolded him with a tone all too motherly. "I'm saying that something happened to you that traumatized you. It wasn't your fault, but you can't go the rest of your damn life scared of any emotional vulnerability. You broke my heart because of it, and here I am, being a fucking idiot and giving you a second chance, and you are throwing it away."

"You're only going to give me a chance if I go to therapy?" he asked, like the thought itself still confused him. I nodded. "Mona... that's asking a lot."

"Actually, it's not. You have the money for the appointments. You made it crystal clear that you don't want your friends and family to even think you have any emotions, so talking to a stranger seems like the only option that makes sense," I explained my reasoning. "I didn't want to go to therapy, either. It was fucking scary to have to tell the people at the Wright Center exactly how much I hated myself, and exactly how desperate I was to be skinny. But when I got scared, or stubborn, or defiant, I thought about you. I thought about how much it meant to you that I get better, and I let the thought help me get better. I thought it would be like that with you, but... I guess not. I think we're done here."

"Mona, wait," he sighed, just after I turned around. "If you want me to go, I will go for you. I want you to see that I'm really trying here."

"Okay," I nodded, approaching his junk drawer and pulling out the sticky notes and a pen. "I need some time to think about everything. All I ask is that you go to a few sessions, and you leave me alone for a few more weeks, okay? Here."

I passed him the sticky note.

"What is this?"

"Um, the name of my perfume," I suddenly felt a bit shy. "I think it might help you sleep."

"Oh," David nodded, folding up the slip of paper and sliding it in his pocket. He climbed off the counter. "Yeah, thank you, sweetheart."

He wrapped me in a hug. I let it happen.

"I love you," he sighed into my hair. "Thank you for everything."

"I love you too," I could only half smile. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yeah... see you soon."

Im sleepy i dont feel like typing an authors note xoxo abby