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he knows it's nowhere near stable nor healthy, but something constantly draws him back to the girl who's got too much fire and passion in her heart.
(some would call that love.)
after they parted ways, adam's lost sight of her all too easily. the small row house is overcrowded with too many bodies, making it humid and packed, and the music's certainly tipping on terrible, but it's almost bearable when he makes another trip to the beer keg. it's there that he runs into another familiar face, a classmate who's lent him a hand more often than once when it comes to assignments he's left for last minute.
it's the way she practically scurries off that confusion clouds his face, however temporary, before a fuming yura comes into view. round four and counting, he thinks. by the way her words are slurred and the red hue that stains her cheeks, adam comes to the conclusion that the drink in her hand has been consumed more than once. he's quick to shrug her probing finger away, swatting it with his own hand, as he rubs the center of his chest. "what the fuck is your problem? christ."
he wonders if this cycle will ever break or if they're always bound to do this to one another.
yura's voice is somehow booming and loud even when the music that surrounds them threatens to drown her out. it's enough to drag attention from those nearby to them, eyes glancing and mouths whispering in curiosity. "no one! jesus, it was no one," but adam already knows that she won't believe her— not when she never has. if he was drunk, this would be easier, but he's entirely too conscious of their environment that he cuts her off with a harsh, "not here, yura." a hand clasps around her wrist in an effort to drag her away from the dance floor and masses of bodies, feet automatically leading him toward the staircase on the opposite side of the room.
glared eyes and growled curses under her breath. quite obviously intoxicated, it wasn't a scene to be involved in. should have walked away when she had the chance. should have ignored it when she had the chance. should have's and could have's. things yura seems to avoid.
bitter laughter edges on her lips, cut off by the warmth of his hand snagged around her wrist. resisting, she pulls. mumbled gibberish and attempts to break free. stumbled movements and acts of childish behaviour. "let me go!" free hand smacked against his back with all her might, quite aware of the scene forming in their wake. but it's the usual. sadly. "taking me to a free bedroom won't solve this." pitched voice, "not this time."
past the bodies draped along the hallway and plastered against the wall, it takes a little searching for an empty and unused room. a line drags off for the bathroom, and adam's quick to sidestep that entirely. near the end is when he finally finds what he's looking for as his free hand pushes the door open further and searches blindly for the light switch. when the room is basked in light, there's another tug against her wrist, but he's gentle despite it all as he maneuvers her to the end of the bed for a seat.
"what the fuck is your problem?"
|QUOTE (tay @ Nov 17 2016, 11:10 PM)|
it's always the same. different night, different setting, and a different fight. but it's always the same. stumbled steps and a dizzied mind, tugged and pulled until an above light shines too brightly. eyes squeezed tightly shut, a slight hiss falls from the sudden brightness. hands cupped against her face, a sudden seat and she's shaking the alcohol from her mind. well, as best she can.
arms falling to a cross at her chest, sight focused on mismatched socks on her feet. it's the same thing each and every weekend. truthfully, she'd tired. confused feelings and not quite sure how to approach them. unconventional coupling at best, the worst of the worst for one another, though they keep finding themselves tangled.
"you are my problem!" shouted words, albeit slurred from her current state of mind. "we came here together, and you just vanish on me, and then i find you talking to some girl?" here's the problem, jealously fuelled fights and feelings yura can't quite muster the courage to admit. a recipe for disaster.
there's a shutting of his eyes and an exhaling of breath at the sheer volume of yura's words. despite the space upon the bed beside her, he chooses to carry on standing in his current position, fists shoved into the pockets of his jeans. "nothing fucking happened, yura." at this point, all he sounds is tired because he knows he's not in the wrong— at least at this exact instant. "i have a class with her. she came up to me... and then you went crazy and scared her off." one hand leaves his pocket to pinch the bridge of his nose before he finally turns in her direction, "are you fucking done?"
in relationships? as messy as her current one seems to be, jealousy seems to always be at play. (yura can't help it, no matter how hard she tries it always rears it's ugly little head. always.)
she's far past tipsy and denying such a thing wouldn't be helping anyone. her actions speak louder than words and embarrassment floods her cheeks at adam's words. an irritation and anger filled embarrassment. at her actions, and her words, and just about everything that's happened since she's walked through the front door. this isn't anything new. "i'm done adam." sobered words and thoughts cloud, it's for the best, and perhaps it's something they both desperately need. "with you, with us, with everything. i'm done." growled words through clenched teeth, sought to sever ties between them, but all it's doing is causing pain.
"i don't care," and the way he makes it sound so careless surprises even him, though he's able to keep his expression trained and cut off— not that it would matter, not when she's not fucking sober. "you know what? i'm fucking glad, because i'm so damn tired of your shit. take out your insecurities on someone else next time and don't bother me anymore." adam knows his words will lacerate and sting, but he's past the point of worrying about sensitivities when all he's received is the exact opposite.
moisture clings to the rims of her eyes, stiff shouldered and refusing to give him the satisfaction of crumbling, but it hurts. more than she'd of liked it to. a push and pull of emotions wrapped with a silly, yet, dangerous jealously. it's all landed her in this very spot. insecurities run deep, and the tendencies to focus them on her relationship were never a good thing. hidden feelings and sarcasm filled words, the truth doesn't always hurt.
hand quickly make work of he tears forming in her eyes, a refusal to have him see her like this, when everything is entirely her fault, her own action lead to this moment, but it still hurts. "i hate you." false words filled with an anger so red, she's dizzy. a slight gasp of air, and she's frowning, "i hate the way you make me second guess myself, and i hate the way you look at me sometimes, and i hate the way you never tell me how you feel. fuck, i hate you." but she doesn't, and it's far from hate.
a moment comes when the anger falters, when he wants to drop his defenses, ever so fleetingly, and it comes in time with the way her eyes become glassy from unshed tears, but stubborn pride chews it up and makes his jaw clench and arms stay glued to his sides.
"good!" but it sounds anything but that, voice raising and sharpening in all of its intensity. "continue hating me all you fucking want, yura, and remember how much you hate me the next time you even think about bothering me!" adam's all too worked up, chest heaving from the excursion of his words alone, so much so that he can't bare to look at her as his stance pivots and gaze diverts.
"consider me done, too."