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* this is the original first draft. The rewrite is now also out on my profile! *
ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ was discovered at fourteen years old, being praised as a musical prodigy by the media ever since. His f...
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ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀɪʟʟᴏ
I never knew this thing existed. I didn't know a person could make my stomach feel like I'm going down a rollercoaster. I didn't know a person could make the blood rush to my face like that.
Nolan felt like an addiction. And when I woke up with my head on his chest, I knew I was screwed.
His chest was rising and falling slowly, and I didn't move. I didn't want to. I could listen to the way his heart was beating for hours. But I knew I had so much to do.
For a moment, I wanted to forget about all of that, though. I felt like I deserved at least that much.
"Hi," I heard him say just a few minutes later.
"Hey."
I didn't have the energy to move, nor did I have the will power.
"Are you okay?" Nolan asked, his voice low as he rested his hand on the side of my face.
I stayed quiet, fumbling with the soft fabric of his t-shirt.
"Oakley?"
"I'm okay."
Nolan let out a deep breath, and I could feel the way his body tensed, but I didn't comment on it.
"You're not," he said after a while. He pushed me up a little, so he could sit up against his headboard and so I was sat down opposite of him. I didn't meet his eyes. I kept my gaze fixed on his shirt. I didn't need anyone to worry about me. I just needed this to pass.
"It's okay." I shook my head, trying to push away the uneasy feeling in my stomach. "I should probably go home."
"You can't drive home like this."
"Well, I have to get home somehow, don't I?" I snapped. I immediately regretted it. Because once again, I was fucking up something good because I was feeling like shit.
"I'm sorry," I said. I felt so fucking hopeless, I couldn't take it anymore.
"What does it feel like?" Nolan asked. And I managed to look up at him, because he deserved at least that. The only way to not fuck this up was by being honest.
"I don't know." My eyes stung, but I wouldn't let myself cry over this. I just needed to drown it out with something else.
"Oakley, can you describe it to me?"
"It's like... I'm missing something? I don't know. I can't..."
"Missing something? Missing what?"
"Everything? Nothing? It's like I don't care, but also I do." Everything felt pointless, yet not doing it made me feel guilty. My entire body ached and every time my mind thought about another promise I couldn't keep, my stomach seemed to sink even deeper.
