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You doubted that when Tim said you could come by today, he meant 11 PM. But it had taken every fiber of your being to muster up the strength to come over to that damn house, and if he didn’t open the door on you now, you swore you’d just break a window.
Shifting your weight back and forth nervously, you knocked on the front door again, this time louder than the previous. You didn’t want to be here. God, you’d rather be anywhere than here. But you needed your belongings that were still scattered throughout Tim’s home more than that.
But the speed at which this little situation had escalated still gnawed away in the back of your mind. Tim had always had... issues. That wasn’t a secret, not to you at least. How could he hide it from his significant other anyways? It’s not exactly secretive to people who care about you when you disappear for weeks on end. But he was doing so much better lately, he held a stable job for a while. The medication was working.
But that didn’t change the fact you were standing on his porch to collect your stuff after he dumped you without another word three days ago.
Was it something you’d done? He didn’t sound mad, hell, but why else would he call you, finish it in two minutes before hanging up and blocking your number? Maybe he spiraled again. Usually he wasn’t too hesitant about asking for your help, but he really didn’t sound okay on the phone. Maybe he-
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the lock rattle, before the door swung open, revealing your now ex-boyfriend. Though you had to admit, for a moment you had to double-take if that really was him. The circles under his eyes were a deep, purple color, his hair was oily and tangled... Your suspicions were proven to be right. He really did crash.
“I didn’t think you were going to come by anymore.” Tim speaking up was the only reason you realized you’d both just been silently staring at each other. Your nervous habits started taking over as you started fiddling with your thumbs, suddenly awfully aware what you were here for. You hated it. You hated that Tim knew it. You hated that Tim could read you like a book.
You tried to ignore the sensation of his exhausted yet piercing gaze flickering back and forth between your hands and your face, biting the inside of your cheek before stepping forwards. “You never told me when to be here.” was your only reply, before you wormed your way past him into his home.
The smell. You hated that smell. Your mind was conflicted, emotions were swirling around in your gut and for a moment, you contemplated leaving. Then you wouldn't have to yell at that feeling. That feeling that you were safe, secure, loved. The feeling that scent gave you.
But you weren’t about to run like a prey animal with its tail between its legs.
As you stepped into the living room, you almost got a heart attack when you noticed someone standing in the hallway, before recognizing who it was. “You brought him?” You didn't mean to lace your words with that much venom, but you couldn’t help it. And poor Jay, who was originally going for a bathroom visit, decided it was best for that to wait and scurried off down the hallway into the guest bedroom.
“I didn’t bring him. He’s staying here.” Although you weren’t exactly being scolded (no way, he did not have the balls to do that), the disapproval was practically dripping off those words.
The thoughts in your mind started racing as you considered the many ways you could snap at him right now. Yeah, you were pissed. But you didn’t want things to escalate.
In fact, you said nothing at all, just trudging over to one of the coffee tables and picking up a dumb souvenir you’d gotten on your trip to the Florida Keys. He didn't even gather your belongings for you. Of course he didn't.
You were awfully well-aware of his presence as he just stood behind you, his eyes avoiding your frame whenever you cast a glance in his direction. Though when your gazes did meet, the emotions that swirled in his eyes were complex and unreadable. Part of you wanted to ask him. But that angry, betrayed whisper in your head was louder than any other thought that crossed your mind.
You didn’t bother.
After throwing whatever stuff you could find into your backpack, you realized you’d have to head over there. Postponing it only worked as long as it wasn’t the last option at the last minute. Bag clutched in one hand and the other pushing against the door, you entered the bedroom.
Your bedroom.
The comforting yet anxiety-inducing scent was stronger here than anywhere else. You despised it. You didn't want to be here.
And again, Tim just shuffled right behind you, not offering to help you pack. His hand just kept moving feverishly to his pockets, trembling fingers attempting to grab the pack of Marlboro, but he never did. In the end, he just ended up biting at what was left of his nails.
You decided to just hurry up the process. Shoving whatever you could find into your bag, you finally zipped it shut so hastily you could swear it almost came off, and crawled back up on your feet. You were ready to head out, back home. But Tim was ahead of you. As you walked towards the front door, you found Tim had unlocked it for you again, and was holding it open for you.
You froze.
This... This piece of shit had done nothing to help you. Nothing. Did not even offer an explanation for anything.
But he was holding the door open for you.
That got to you.
Your knuckles popped as your grip on your backpack tightened, fingers turning white. Before you even knew it, your mouth had opened and with a hiss the words came out.
“Fuck you, Tim.”
The both of you were caught off guard. Hell, you didn't even know you had it in you to insult him. But now the flood gates were opened, and you couldn’t close them that easily.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You break up with me on the phone, block my number, have Jay come over to tell me you want my shit out of your house, and you’re holding the door open?! Fuck you!”
Tim sounded caught off guard. “What else did you want me to do, just watch you open the door yourself?!”
“The door isn’t the fucking issue, Tim!”
It was quiet for a moment, save for your shivery, heavy breathing as you fought back your tears. Tim just stared at his feet, avoiding your gaze at all costs.
“You were doing fine! At least- I thought so- and you just- what the fuck am I supposed to make of this?! Was it me? Did I bore you? Did you- Did you fucking date me until you got better and didn't need your precious little crutch anymore?!”
“It’s not that, you don’t under-”
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND, TIM! I’M FUCKING ASKING YOU!”
You’d never raised your voice at him like that. Your yells echoed throughout the house, choking sobs following suit. Your teary eyes locked with his. If you weren’t so upset, you might’ve seen the hurt flash in them. But all you wanted right now was a goddamn explanation.
An explanation that never came.
You wiped your eyes on the sleeve of your jacket, your bottom lip trembling. You should’ve known that was why he kept you around. You should’ve known. Your shoulder collided with his roughly as you stormed out of the house, not giving him an opportunity to call after you as you stepped into your car and left.
Tim just stood there, watching the red taillights until they were no longer visible.
“I’m sorry.”
Tim turned to Jay, who was shifting his weight from one foot to another uncomfortably. Clearly he felt guilty about this.
“Pack your damn bags, Jay.”
Jay nodded and left to the guest bedroom again, his packed bags placed neatly on top of the bed already. He knew what Tim actually meant.
Once he heard the door close, the one string keeping his composure tied together snapped. He pressed his back against the door, rubbing his eyes with so much force he thought they might cave in, high-pitched, scratchy sobs racking his body.
He wanted to scream, cry, anything.
It hurt so bad. It hurt so bad that he couldn't tell you about the hooded figure that had been sneaking into his house. He couldn’t tell you what was going on, hell, knowing you, you’d just put yourself in more danger. But he couldn’t hide what was going on much longer. He couldn't hide the fact he and Jay were leaving tomorrow. He felt like he had no other options.
Tim was the disease. His selfishness had overtaken him. He’d ignored the damage it could do, but he couldn't be any longer, not after what happened to Alex. Not now that he was the cause of Jay’s fucked up life. No, he couldn’t let it spread even further. He couldn't let that happen to you.
He loved you too much for that.