Alone [manxman]

five:: when you break all your unwritten rules

[Rilee; Unwritten Rules by Jaz Karis]

FIVE: when you break all your unwritten rules.

The smell of coffee brewing was what woke me up.

Stronger than normal especially after a night out. Izzy never used the coffee pot, really. He was obsessed with making homemade coffee. It was the barista in him, he refused it any other way and when we got fucked up, he never had the energy the next morning.

He was a morning person though, I wasn't a big fan of that. He kept this chipper attitude whenever he woke up even if it was often subdued for my sake.

I heard soft laughter. Chatter muffled in hard flooring, the door was on the wrong side of the room. My eyes caught onto a bedside table, ornate detailing on the legs, blurry in my line of sight. The moment I sat up, there was an ache in my back.

My head was throbbing, brain rattling around behind my skull and my lips were dry when I licked over them.

Shutting my eyes, I sucked in a deep breath, trying to ignore the pulsing headache. The door was partially open, sound creeping in.

Blowing out a deep breath, I tried to stretch, bones cracking. Light poured in through an open window, and I reached for my glasses carefully placed on the nightstand.

My lower back was throbbing and this room wasn't mine.

I was naked though, I often slept naked. Not fully but not clothed, there was a pair of boxers clinging to my body, orange blush stretched out over white pillows, and I didn't even want to look around.

I could hear laughter, it faint, distant and I rubbed my temples, thinking back to what had happened the night before.

Moments like this always made me regret every choice I made that led up to it. It say heavy on my chest, I screwed my eyes shut, shifting to stand but not having the energy. Hanging my head in between my legs, I tried to recount the night.

I never blacked out, that just wasn't something I did but I was having trouble remembering what happened after we'd left the club.

I hadn't been wearing this, that much was clear, I didn't remember the last time I'd worn anything but briefs. This was Isaiah's room, these were probably Isaiah's boxers and my heart sank when I realized what that meant.

There was a buzzing under my skin when it hit me and I gasped out a breath, blinking back a burning behind my eyes. Sucking in a shaky breath, I tried to remember.

And I sat there for ten minutes, cold, my throat closed up. Something I hated about myself was how easily I shut down. It was something that everyone who'd ever tried to get close to me mentioned whenever things got... emotional.

I wasn't good at it, I hated it honestly. I hated being vulnerable around anyone but family, because family was something different. My mother had to care when I cried, my mother would care. No one else in the world, who wasn't obligated to care, was supposed to be inclined to take the time and find out if I was okay.

And that was fine, it was natural, it was human nature.

It was life. We came in alone, we died alone. Even if we find love, the one we've searched for and our love stories are for the history books... Abuelita was dying alone.

And it was sad, even if it wasn't supposed to be. Everything in her culture, in our culture, took sadness out of death.

No one ever talked about that point where you find yourself cursing God, cursing whoever for the pain that kept you up at night.