I. L'instant [H.S]

XXXIV

The next morning everything goes out in a blur.

I wake up in my brother's spare bedroom completely and utterly hungover, and with a very knocked out Ares sprawled over the rather too-small-for-him black velvet chaise at the foot of the window. I tip-toe out of the bedroom and realise my brother must be sleeping in his room with Grace, so I leave a note on the coffee table and leave without further ado. The Uber is quick to pick me up right outside and takes me to my place before nine, but right as I tell the driver to keep the change, a familiar mesh of light brown hair sits in front of my door.

Joe looks the same but different at the same time. A heavy, overwhelming sensation sets between my chest and the pit of my stomach. It's too early for this and I'm still reeling on the headache and clear dehydration from last night's drinking.

But none of that matters because as soon as I close the Uber's door, he sees me.

"Emilia." he says rather surprised.

Perhaps my wrinkly clothes and smeared mascara must clearly show off I've spent the night away. I nod and approach him slowly, taking a second to pull myself together and try to go through what I can only assume will be the most difficult chat of my life. I should've answered to his messages, I should've set a date to meet so I wouldn't have to talk to whatever it is he wants to at the same time as I'm going through a sickening hangover.

The moment I open the front door, every single memory we both made inside this flat floods my mind. From the first time he walked inside with his guitar cases hanging from his fingers, to the day we decided to paint the living room white and bought a massive red rug to put underneath the sofa set.

My heart aches immediately and somehow a batch of heavy tears threaten to fall down any moment now.

"Give me a sec." I whisper right before rushing to my bedroom. Our bedroom.

I can't think like this. Not right now.

Every dreadful feeling, heartache and miserable thoughts, all come rushing back as if I never tried to store them away. The last time we talked, the way he seemed broken by my venomous words and how little and pathetic I felt when I realised he, once again, had cheated on me.. all those images play over and over in my head, driving me mad and making me incredibly sad, all at the same time.

If I don't control myself right the fuck now, I'll end up crying my heart out in front of my now -ex boyfriend or throwing up every content left in my body, maybe both.

A muffled noise pulls me out of my pity-party and I take no time to change from the uncomfortable jeans and shirt to a pair of black sweats and the old raid Vines shirt I've been using to sleep in. My hair is a crooked mess but I let it be and rather brush my teeth and wash my face before finally coming out to the living room.

Joe sits on the largest sofa, looking at his linked hands between his legs, he's bent over himself, his hair falling down to the side of his head, so when he looks up to me, the familiar mess of overgrown hair seems messier than usual.

"I'm sorry for coming uninvited but I just-"

"It's fine." I cut him off, taking a seat on the love-seat nearest to the door. "I know I've been putting this out but I have been really busy at work."

"I know. You got the cover, right?" He says with half a smile.

I frown, thinking how on earth could he possibly know about it, but then the reminder that he's still working at one of Martin's stores hits. He probably told him or something like that. Did Joe ask him? Do they talk about me? I don't know how I'd feel if they do, honestly.