Yours | ✓

15 | Welcome to my Fake Smile

Chapter Fifteen: Welcome to my Fake Smile

"you think that I am crazy
but that, that does not phase me
and no, you cannot change me
just know you cannot save me,"
~ olivia o'brien

┉

L I A M

   "Fucking hell," I hissed, kicking the plywood. The sound of it crashing on the ground followed a second later.

   My fists clenched next to me as I stared at the now damaged headboard I told Katrina I'd make for her. She was currently having a Bohemian phase. She wanted her whole room to be all planty and shit and wanted a new headboard.

   I couldn't fucking make one. I haven't been able to make anything for years, and I felt like an utter fuck-up.

   "Fuck this shit," I muttered to myself before stomping out of my garage. It wasn't long before I pushed open my front door, not stopping myself until I stepped into the small kitchen. My movements were fast as I reached for the upper cabinet, pulling it open before grabbing the bottle of vodka.

   While pouring myself a shot, I couldn't help but think of her. Her words that night in the bar rang back to me. "Thought you preferred milkshakes over alcohol."

   I had to bite back a laugh because she didn't know how bad I was in the beginning. How I depended on the liquid. I justified me drinking now because it was ten at night before drowning the shot.

   I wanted to go to Mel's. Fuck, I wanted to sit in my booth and drink my damn milkshake, but I couldn't.

   Monica filled my thoughts. I leaned against the counter and gripped the edges, to the point that my fists were whitening. I hadn't seen her, nor did I fucking speak to her for two damn weeks.

   Even when she wasn't here, her moans were in my ears, her sweet, flowery smell controlling my senses. How her soft, velvety skin felt against my hands, and how she looked lying on her back, completely vulnerable and willing.

   In that moment, for the first time in years, I'd wanted her. I'd wanted someone other than Liz. The feeling was terrifying because I wasn't supposed to want her. I couldn't.

   I shouldn't have done it. I should have pulled away. I wasn't supposed to...

   "Fuck this shit," I clenched out before turning, pouring myself another shot.

   I coughed, cringing at the taste just as I heard the doorbell ring by the front of my house. Once I'd taken a deep breath, I took steady steps to my door before throwing it open, groaning in the process when I saw who was standing on the other side.

   Without waiting for her greeting, I walked back to the kitchen and quickly hid the vodka bottle. "Nice to see you too, Limchik," my mother called out from behind me.

    "chto ty khochesh', mama?" I sighed as I asked what she wanted before turning out of the kitchen. Mama stood by the entrance, however, watching me with raised brows.

   Her shoulder length blonde hair was clipped on the top of her head, her brown eyes staring at me as if she knew everything. "Eat, Liam," she demanded, shoving something into my hands. When I looked to what I was now holding, I realized it was a glass container filled with pelmeni.

   Better than plov.

   "Thanks, mama," I mumbled, attempting to step around her. She didn't budge, though, filling the doorway that prevented me from leaving the small space in the kitchen. She stared me down as she crossed her small arms around her chest. "What?"