track 23. songbird - fleetwood mac

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And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score. And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before.

***

Waking up, the first thing I noticed was that I wasn't in my own bed. Intoxicating smelling sheets surrounded me, making me want to pull the covers up higher and snuggle deeper into them. They smelled like him.

The second thing I noticed, was that despite his scent being everywhere, I was alone in his bed. The covers on the opposite side were unmussed, telling me I must have spent the entire night alone.

He must have left again, I realised. As soon as he'd tucked my drunk lovestruck ass into his bed, probably after having begged to fall asleep there being the desperate idiot that I was. I had humiliated myself, and it was highly unlikely that the way I had acted would encourage him to come back home any sooner than he was planning to. That was, if he was planning to come back at all.

Stretching up into a sitting position, I shook off my tired limbs even as they ached to remain lying in this comfort. Better to fight off this hangover in my own bed, where at least maybe I could postpone my breakdown, having had enough of them recently to last a lifetime.

As I trudged out into the living room, an inviting salty smell hit my nose.

"Chicken nuggets?" I froze. He was stood in the kitchen smiling at me, a brown paper bag in his hand. He had stayed. I broke out into a smile.

"For breakfast?"

"It's well past noon, babe," he grinned, and though it should have been strange, I let the nickname slide, something about the atmosphere almost feeling like a normal morning- well, afternoon. I was more than happy to pretend for a while.

"I guess that's okay then," I said, sliding into a seat at the table while he sat down opposite me. He pulled the goodies out of the bag, opening up the cartons of nuggets before opening up the sauces as well and placing them in the lids. I took one in my hand, pausing as I dunked it in my sweet 'n' sour sauce.

"So does this mean..?" I trailed off, too nervous to form the rest of the question.

"I wanna move back home." He offered me a thin lipped smile as he added, "if you'll have me."

"Of course I will," I smiled back, taking a bite of my nugget. Ah, the sweet crunchy taste of relief. Maybe there was some hope that this lonely limbo I'd been exisiting in was coming to an end.

"You know we need to talk, right?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "But let's eat first."

We sat in comfortable silence as we ate, a rare sense of calm caused purely by his presence settling within me. We were a mess, I knew that, but at least we were going to work on fixing it now, instead of leaving it to fester.

I took a shower once breakfast was over, wondering as I stood beneath the water what this new version of us was going to look like. I was happy to have him back, but there were wounds there now that hadn't been there before. So much still confused me, the fact that I was still falling hopelessly in love with him not helping to sort out my questions in any kind of logical manner. This short rift with Rye had broken me more than the end of my two year relationship had, and that realisation scared me enough to chase away any fantasies of a happy ever after with him. He wielded a dangerous amount of power over me, and so it was important for me to get the whole truth before making any judgement calls on that front.

Rye joined me in my room once I was finished showering, where I was sitting cross-legged on my bed in just my boxers. I picked up a hoodie from next to me and shrugged it on, feeling self-conscious about how exposed I was despite never being uncomfortable showing my body around Rye before. It was more evidence of how things had changed between us, an air of weirdness surrounding these small acts of intimacy that used to come so naturally. It made me frown as he sat down on my bed in front of me.

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