Plus One - Chapter 8: Hurt

[deedee_sims]

Warnings: Angst, yelling, worrying, shitty coping mechanisms, some pining, homophobia (for real this time)



I take a deep breath and open the door cautiously. As I peek inside, I see him lying on the bed, his face buried in his pillow. My heart sinks, seeing him like that.
"Rhett, I-"



He suddenly looks up, with an angry expression on his face.
"Why the fuck are you in here? I told you to leave me the fuck alone!" He gets up and towers over me. I've never seen him so angry, and I feel like sinking to the floor.



"I-I just wanted to-"



"Can't you just mind your own fucking business?!" His voice is shaking, and a teardrop rolls down on his cheek. "How many times do I have to tell you to leave me the fuck alone?"



I quickly leave his room, and he slams the door behind me. Fuck. I fucked it up big time.



I bury my face in my hands, but I still see him, with that lonely teardrop on his cheek, and my heart hurts for him. I can't even imagine what could've made him that upset. If Callum hurt him somehow, I swear I'm going to kill him.



But at this moment I just want to go back and comfort Rhett… but seeing the results I just had, it's probably not something he wants or needs right now. When I realize I can't really do anything for him at this point, I sigh, and reluctantly retreat to my room.

***



It's getting dark. I'm usually already hungry by this time, but now I just have a painful knot in my stomach. Maybe I should get some food anyway.
I spent the past few hours dwelling, and worrying, and thinking about how I'm going to apologize to Rhett when he comes out of his room. Which he hasn’t, yet, at all.



I hear a door shutting closed, and I bolt out of my room.
I sigh.



He's gone.

***



It’s past midnight, but I can’t even think about sleeping. Not when I don’t know where Rhett is. All I dared to do was to text him a ‘please take care’, because I don’t want to upset him even more.
I’m about to check my phone the hundredth time, when I hear movement from the living room.



I open the door, relieved, but when I see him, I freeze.
He's not alone.



He has a girl tangled on him. Kissing him.
Right there at the door, where we kissed back then.
Fuck.



I close my door, as silently as I can.
I feel numb.
And he has every right to do anything he wants. We're not a thing - friends, maybe. Suddenly, my crush seems even stupider than a few hours ago. I just wish it wouldn't hurt.



I go to bed tired and confused.

***



I rise at an unholy hour, considering it's Sunday, but I just can't sleep. I know it shouldn't feel like this. He's not obligated to talk to me about his problems, and he's free to fuck whoever he wants. But still.



The fact that he chose to fuck with some random person instead of talking to me is what hurts the most. Especially because he stopped bringing people here shortly after I moved in.
Maybe I should just stop caring about his antics after all.



I spoon some cereal into my mouth… cereal that became disgustingly soggy while I was contemplating.



The door opens, and Rhett enters. To my surprise, he's completely dressed, and... he looks tired. It hits me that last time he looked like this was after that ominous clubbing night.



"Morning," he says, and he starts making coffee.



That's it? Morning? No explanation, no... nothing?
"Olls?"
"Hm?"



"I'm sorry 'bout yesterday," he starts quietly, absent-mindedly picking on his bandage. "I know you just... wanted to help."



"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bugged you after you said you want to be alone," I say, but at the same time, I feel the anger and hurt boiling inside me. "I'm glad you found someone who you could have fun with."
"What?" he asks, confused.
"You know what I mean." I'm trying so hard to keep my face and my voice even.



"I didn't sleep with her!"
"Sure."
"You don't believe me, huh?"



"Look, I don't care, you can do whatever you want!" I snap.
"And now you suddenly don't care?!"
"Why would I? I'm your flatmate, not your boyfriend!"
Fuck. Why the fuck did I say that. A shadow crosses his face.



"I'm very well aware of that," he says bitterly. "Sorry to assume you care."



Watcher, I desperately want to say that that's not what I meant, and I do care about him, and I would very much like to be his boyfriend if he wanted to. But my mouth just doesn't cooperate.
"I-I don’t-"



"Whatever, I have some stuff to do," he announces grimly, leaving his half-made coffee. Then I hear the front door closing.



I'm an idiot. I'm such a fucking idiot. Now, instead of solving this, as he probably wanted, I just made everything ten times worse. My stomach churns painfully, and I'm pretty sure it's not from the cereal.



That's when my phone decides to start ringing. Ugh. I look at the name popping up on the screen: it's Wyatt. I really don't feel like talking to him right now, but it would be rude not to answer. So I take a deep breath, and answer the phone.



"Hi."
"Hi!" he greets me cheerfully, which is the complete opposite of what I feel right now. "I hope I didn’t wake you up?
"No, don’t worry."
"Are you free tonight?"
"Um... I guess I am?"
"I got last minute tickets to Bella and Mortimer, would you like to come with me?"



I let out a sigh. I don't feel like going to the theater right now, but maybe I need a distraction from all this mess that's going on with Rhett.
"Okay."
"Great! It starts at seven, so meet you at half past six at the theater?"



"Alright."
"See you, then! Bye!"
"Bye."



***



As time passes I become more and more worried. I texted Rhett at noon, apologizing and asking if he would come home for lunch, but he hasn't even seen it yet. And it's already way into the afternoon. I really hope he's alright.



At half past five, I start to get ready for the theater. At least I don't have to spend time choosing clothes this time, because I only have one suit.



The clock ticks six and Rhett's still nowhere to be found. But at least he saw my text, which is better than nothing.



I look at my reflection in the mirror, hoping that I don't look as worried as I feel. I smooth out my tie, and take a deep breath.

***



Apparently, Bella and Mortimer is a very depressing play.
It's about a man whose wife disappears all of a sudden, and he tries to get her back with all this sciency and magic stuff. In the end he just goes mad and kills himself.



"Did you like it?" Wyatt asks as we head for the exit.
"It was interesting, just... quite sad."
"Yeah," he laughs nervously, "it's not the happiest one."



We don't say anything for a few moments, and my mind wanders back to Rhett again. I quickly check my phone - no answer.



"Is everything... alright?" As I look up, I met his concerned gaze.
"Yeah, it's..." I quickly put my phone away. "I had a row with my flatmate, and he hasn't replied to my texts, but... it's fine, we'll figure it out." I try to play it cool, but it doesn't seem to work.
"Look, I was thinking-"



"Sorry, but I don't think it'll work for us." I blurt out.
"Yeah, that's what I thought too." He smiles kindly.
"Really?"



"I got the impression last time that you're not that interested in me," he admits, and I feel embarrassed and relieved at the same time. "But it's fine. I still hope we can be friends? Maybe we could catch Hamilton at some point?"



"Okay, that would be nice." I return his smile. "You're a great person, I hope you'll find someone."
"Same applies to you."

***



When I enter our apartment, I'm hoping. I hope that he'll be there, watching his stupid sports, and we're going to solve this mess.



But when I enter, everything is how I left it. The lamps are still turned off, the curtains open.



Watcher, I want to cry.



I forcefully draw the curtains closed. As I turn back, my gaze falls to the closed door of his room. A desperate little flame lights up in my chest.



I step in front of it, and knock.
"Not now." His voice comes muffled from the other side of the door.



He's home. He's here. A wave of relief washes over me. I just want to see him, and stuff, but I'm not going to invade his personal space again. But I'm going to talk to him tomorrow. I swear.
I don't sleep much tonight, either.

***



Next day, my classes only start at ten, so I have some time dwelling in the morning. I mean studying.
Rhett leaves me a note that he decided to attend all his classes (which is quite uncharacteristic of him, but okay), so at least he doesn’t leave me hanging about his whereabouts.
I need to apologize to him properly, that's clear as a day. I just hope he's in a better mood than in the last couple of days, and willing to accept it.



And there's that other thing.
Lainey texted me last night, saying sorry for upsetting me the other day, and I said it's fine. It actually made me think about the whole situation. I can't say that I know what I want, but I know I like him, and at this point, I'm pretty sure that it's mutual. But the whole thing is so uncertain and scary. Maybe I need to jump into the unknown for once.
I just wish I wasn't afraid of heights.
As I think about it, it's probably not the best timing to ask him out right after apologizing.



I'm in the middle of making dinner when Rhett arrives home.



"Hey, Olls," he greets me, plopping down at the table.
"Look, Rhett," I start immediately, "I'm sorry for what I said-"
"It's fine, you didn't say anything that's not true."



"But I care about you!" I claim, looking at his eyes. His mouth turns to a shy smile.



"I know." He abruptly averts his gaze at his bandaged hand, and starts picking on it. "You're a great friend."



I stir some sauce into the pasta, flushed. He still thinks of me as a friend, even after what happened. I need to stop my urge to hug him.



"I'm sorry that I just left yesterday, and didn't answer your texts," he continues. I look at him again, but his eyes are still fixated on his hand. "Sorry if I made you worry. I just went to the library, and forgot to check the time."
"Oh."
He shrugs. "Yeah, maybe my grades are not salvageable, but I still need to pass my exams somehow." As he says it, my worry from yesterday seems exaggerated. "And I needed distraction from... stuff, anyway."



"I see. You know if you want to talk about it-"
"I think I owe you an explanation. It's dumb anyway." He takes a quick peek at my face, then shifts.



"It's just my brother. He was always the better one. The cleverer, the taller, the better behaved. And better at everything he touched. And he has a way of rubbing it in my face. I know I shouldn't be bothered by it, but... it just sucks to face how dumb and useless-"



"You're not either of those!"
"It's fine, I know the only thing I'm good at is fucking around, you don't have to lie-"
"But that's the truth!" I insist, annoyed. "You're charming, and funny, and enthusiastic, and you can always make me smile. And you play the piano rather well."
"Not as well as my brother."



"I don't give a flying fuck about your brother!" I snap, which makes him chuckle. It's hard to believe that someone who always looks so confident, thinks so little of himself.



"You're always so nice-"
"Dinner's almost ready, you want some?"
"Yeah, thanks. You're amazing," he says with a soft smile.



"So are you," I reply honestly, to which he makes a face. "Don't roll your eyes at me! Only I have the privilege to roll my eyes!" I flail my wooden spoon around threateningly.



"Alright, you do it cuter anyway."



Now it's time to do the aforementioned eyeroll, and he starts laughing. I like when he's like this.
"Is your hand better now?"



"Um, yeah, I think I could remove the bandage. Or should I leave it to you, doc?" he teases. "Maybe you could do a full medical checkup, and... nevermind."
I wait for him to finish the flirty punchline, but he doesn't.



I serve the pasta, and we start eating. We rarely eat together, and it all feels strangely domestic, in a good way.



"How was your date?" he asks abruptly, which makes me choke on my food.
"W-what date?"
"Yesterday, with that what’s-his-name guy. Wyatt?"
"How do you know that?"



He shots me a disapproving glance.
"If it's not on Simsbook, it never happened."
Damn. Wyatt probably tagged me or something. I admit I haven't checked any social media since yesterday.



"Ah, it was okay." I shrug. "We kinda decided the dating thing is not for us. I mean, together."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'd rather be alone than with someone I don't really want to be with."



He hums approvingly, then pats my hand.
"Don’t worry, I'm sure you'll find someone." I’m suddenly very aware of our hands touching. "I mean who wouldn’t want you?"



Damn, I want to kiss him.



But before I can say or do anything, he retreats his hand, and goes back to eating.
I need to remind myself again: this is not the right time to ask him out.



So we finish our meal in silence.

***



It's been two weeks since I reconciled with Rhett, and we fell back to our usual routine. I still haven't collected enough strength to ask him out, though. Maybe now that the exams have started, and we don't spend as much time at the university…



It's a sunny Thursday when I have my birthday.



I don't like making a big fuss about it, but I'm happy to receive mom's phone call in the morning. She makes me promise to visit her soon.



However, I'm not that happy to receive my father's annual call, a little later. I need to take a deep breath before I pick up the phone.



"Hello, father."
"Hi Oliver. Happy birthday!"
"Thank you. How are you?" I ask, trying to avoid any unpleasant topics.
"I'm fine. Started a new job, and it's going well so far."



Ah, right, he was probably fired again.
"What about you?" he inquires, and damn, I should've asked him another question.
"Alright," I answer cautiously. "I moved to Lonehill City."
"You finally found a nice girl, and you moved in together?"
Here we are.



"You know I'm not like that-"
"I thought you've grown out of your stupid fling about boys by now."



Fuck, I want to shout at him that it's not a stupid fling, but I know it would just make everything ten times worse, so I just say: "No, I haven't."
"Well, maybe it's time. You're twenty, a grown man. It's time to start thinking about finding a wife and starting a family."



Watcher, I just want this conversation to end, already.
"Right. I have some stuff to do, so I-"
"It's not natural, Oliver, you-"
"Bye." I end the call as fast as I can.



"Fuck you." I spit in a trembling voice, and drop my phone on the bed.



I can't believe that he still gets me. It's the same shit. Every. Fucking. Year.
I'm never going to forget how he shouted at me when I came out to him. And the way mom shouted at him after. Thank Watcher she divorced him shortly after that.
But still. I always have that stupid little hope that one day he'll stop acting like an asshole and will accept me for who I am. Maybe I just need to give up on it completely.
I hear someone knocking on my door.



"Come in," I say, while trying to wipe my tears away.



"Hey!" Rhett's smiling face appears at the door. "Happy... Are you okay?"
Maybe the wiping wasn't very effective.



"Yeah, it's... nothing."



"It's clearly not nothing!" he states firmly, and I make another attempt to dry my face. "What happened?"



I don't know if I should tell him…

---
Annnnnd with that we got to the last voting! Make sure you choose wisely (or not)! You can VOTE HERE! I will close the voting in 2 weeks, on the 17th of October! (how is that October already)

As usual, many and more thanks to Anachronisims for beta reading! ^^

I admit it's not my favorite chapter, because I like them all nice and happy, but they made up in the end, so yay? XD Only good stuff from now on! I also admit I felt a bit burned out while I was working on it, but let's hope I regain my enthusiasm in the next chapter... Which is the last one! Crazy stuff! (then I can have some time to relax :P. please send me energy in the meantime XD)

Please share your thoughts! I love hearing what you think about anything that happened! (Rhett's behavior, Ollie's asshole of a father - poor Ollie, honestly)

Thank you so much for reading and following the story! :D