All I really wanted right then when we left was a hit. Okay, a few hits. Anything would do, I'm not that fussy.
But I'd had my methadone for the day and I can hardly go looking for more drugs when Kyle's with me. I've already come too close to losing him because I'm too fucking pussy to stand up to my own cravings.
So Kyle being really fucking quiet isn't helping all that much, to be honest. He's just staring out of the window. I glance at him, but he doesn't seem to notice. I turn my eyes back to the road, listening to the music and hoping that it'll do instead.
He gives a tiny sigh.
"What's up?" I ask.
"Nothing. Why?" he replies, looking over at me. I shrug. I feel his eyes linger on me for a moment before he goes back to watching the scenery outside passing by in a blur and I go back to wanting my drugs.
"Damien," Kyle's quiet voice disturbs the numb emptiness in my head.
"Are we doing the right thing?"
"Right for who?" I ask. I mean, running away isn't gonna be right for everyone, is it? He shrugs. Helpful. "We can always come back if it doesn't work out."
"I guess..." both of us fall silent again after that and the only time we speak is when I stop for gas and need money.
Y'know what? I fucking hate long distances. Especially quiet ones. So I pull in at the next motel we come to. Kyle glances at me with a look on his face that pretty much says ‘what're you doing?' but I don't care. "You okay?" he asks, finally noticing that I'm kinda fed up.
"I'm tired. And driving long distances gets boring after a while." Hint, hint.
"I don't mind sleeping on the back seat if you can't afford a room," I shrug. That said, I could probably afford a room here for the night. It's not exactly gonna cost much for one night, right?
"No, it's fine," he says with a tiny smile. We get out the car and Kyle looks down at the floor while I lock it. I'm so focused on sleeping off my bad mood and cravings that I only notice Kyle's stayed outside after I've got the key for a room.
I walk outside with a frown on my face, wondering why he's not moved. He looks up. "sorry," he says.
"What's wrong?" I question. He gives me this weak smile.
"Nothing," he tells me. I arch my eyebrow, not believing him. "Seriously, I'm fine."
"You don't look it," I say bluntly.
"You're paranoid," he flashes me another smile, this one a little more convincing than the last, though... I still don't believe him. "I'm just tired, I guess." I'm still not buying it, but I figure pushing it will just make him close off more. So instead I offer him my hand, leading him to our room when he takes it.
He barely even waits for me to close the door before he's lying down on the bed. I kick my shoes off, joining him, kind of watching as he nuzzles the pillow. He ends up sort of cuddling it and doing my best not to feel a little weird over it, I roll over and curl up, trying to get to sleep. I mean when the boyfriend would rather cuddle a pillow than the person he's with, that can't be good, right? Maybe that's paranoid, but can you blame me for that one?
To say I slept would be a lie. I hardly even doze. My mind keeps flicking between wanting to know what's wrong with Kyle and where there might be a dealer in... wherever the fuck we are now.
Feeling kinda restless, I roll onto my back, noticing that Kyle's still cuddling that pillow. He looks kinda upset as he shifts a little, not noticing as I watch him for a moment. He looks like he's on the verge of tears. I run my hand through his hair, making him jump.
"Sorry, did I wake you up?" he sniffles. I shake my head, playing with his hair. He nuzzles the pillow again, putting on this brave face, apparently noticing the worry on my own features. I roll on my side so I'm facing him.
"C'mon, babe, what's wrong?" I ask softly. He doesn't say anything. Neither do I, hoping that he might just tell me in his own time. He lets out a tiny sniffle, and finally says something. Not quite what I'm hoping for, though.
"It's nothing. Go to sleep." Like I'm gonna be able to sleep, knowing you're upset and can't even tell me why.
"Can't sleep," I mutter. He plays with my hair, keeping up that brave face as I watch him. After a while, I close my eyes, just lying there and enjoying him playing with my hair. I stay like that, quiet and apparently I look asleep enough for Kyle to drop that brave face of his, ‘cause a couple minutes later, he sounds like he's cracking up again. He sniffles and I peek out from under my lashes to see him on the verge of tears again.
I don't say anything. I wouldn't know what to say anyways. He tries to stop the tears from coming out, but it doesn't take long for him to start crying. I cuddle him, glad that at least he cuddles back, even if he's still crying. I plant a small kiss on his lips, and he kisses back.
I open my eyes properly and look at him, wishing that I could get rid of whatever's on his mind that's upsetting him. He doesn't look me in the eye and I can't help feeling a pang of worry that I'm somehow the reason he's in tears.
"Love you," I say quietly. I mean, I know that's not gonna make him stop crying or anything, but... I dunno. Just felt like it was something I should say. I cuddle him a little tighter, and he presses his nose to my chest.
"Love you too," he whispers, and I nearly miss it, it's so quiet. I play with his hair, waiting it out as he tries to stop crying.
After a while, he manages to stop, and mumbles an apology.
"S'okay," I tell him. He nuzzles me a little and I plant a kiss on the top of his head.
See, brain? It might not be all fun stuff off drugs, but it's not like you'd have been capable of being here for him if you'd gone off and gotten high.