In my years with Brody, I had been conditioned to sleep on the floor when I had been bad. The pleasure of sleeping in the same bed as my partner was entirely dependant on how well I behaved. So as I had behaved very badly, I genuinely couldn't sleep in the bed, as much as I wanted to. It just felt wrong. As for the reason I was on the floor in the first place... I still don't believe that I have an addiction to alcohol. I simply enjoy it too much to want to stop. Line seems to think otherwise but really all I wanted was for him to forgive me.
For some reason it'd stung when he said we weren't exclusive. I know we hadn't exactly made it official, but then what did he think I meant when I told him that I was his if he wanted me? I wondered what to do about it. Should I ask him out? Was that even what he wanted?
I must have fallen asleep halfway through thinking; the next thing I knew after trying to make a decision over whether to ask Line out or not, was opening my eyes to birds singing outside and a crick in my neck. I massaged it with one hand, but otherwise didn't move. I was too busy trying to remember how far I got with my decision. By the time I'd made up my mind, Line was waking up.
He stretched out on the bed like a cat, which was a movement I only witnessed in part given that I was still lying on the floor.
"Morning," he greeted me.
"H'lo," I replied, biting back the habitual 'Sir' that usually went with that when I was on the floor.
"Why're you on the floor?" he asked.
"Because I was bad last night."
"Doesn't mean you have to sleep on the floor," he told me, one eyebrow lifting upward. I explained my reasoning behind it, to which he responded with a shrug. "There's always the spare room." I'm not sure he really understood the idea of a D/s relationship, but I let it slide.
"I know. It's just habit still," I muttered. A moment of quiet passed before I decided I would make him breakfast in bed as a sort of attempt at an apology for last night. I cooked him a full English breakfast, hoping he would like it as I brought it up for him on a tray. I set it down next to him on the bed, hoping for a positive reaction from him for it. I know it's not enough to make up for going behind someone's back the way I did, but I had to start somewhere. And if I was going to take his suggestion into account and do things in place of drinking, then it was a good place to start for that too, given I'd rather be curing my pounding headache with more booze.
"Friends don't usually make each other breakfast in bed, do they?" he questioned, his eyebrow reaching up again. That deflated me pretty quickly. Friends? What happened to 'I might just love you'? Was I really that shitty at being a lover? We hadn't even made it to being lovers and he'd already made a break for it. I was quiet as he ate, barely noticing as he thanked me. I just cleaned up, washed the dishes and sat out on the front doorstep with a packet of cigarettes. Line asked me once to pace myself with them and I did so, watching him disappear back inside.
I told him I was going for a walk in the afternoon, mostly because I had run out of cigarettes. He didn't seem to care much. I wanted to go to the bar, or buy some booze just to dull the strange ache that hit me every time I replayed him calling me just a friend in my head. But I didn't. I didn't want to disappoint him again. It was fucking hard though. Really fucking hard.
The afternoon dragged by. I half wanted to go back home and try and figure out what the hell was going on, but the rest of me just wanted to bury my head in the sand. I went back some time after I knew he would've made dinner: my appetite, which had slowly been returning after Fate's departure, had evaporated again. I sulked past where he was sat on the sofa and went to the spare bedroom.
Line followed me up after a while, finding me curled up on the bed.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
I shrugged, "I'm sober, at least."
"Nothing. Just thought I should get acquainted with the spare room now," I muttered. Now that we're just friends. The question 'why' was nagging at me and I bit down on my lip. I didn't think I wanted to know, frankly. He didn't know what to say and the words were already in my throat. "Why? Why are we friends today? You loved me just the other day. Am I really that terrible?" I had to admit, though, that I was grateful for him not stringing me along like Fate did. And I suppose Theo would have his way at last; once I had my answer, I'd probably leave. I had no desire to hang around in a town that was rapidly becoming a dumping ground for bad memories and failed relationships.
"Because I need something to call you. My... something. And since we aren't lovers, and I have no interest in being a friend with benefits, I reasoned we must just be friends." I didn’t know what to say to that. What was there to say? I thought we were quite a bit more than friends, personally. I’d been just about ready to ask him to be mine this morning, because... well, friends don’t have sex like we did, and say that it might just be love. “I’m going for another walk,” I said eventually, getting up off the bed.
I shrugged. I had no idea where I was going to go. But I was going. “Not to a bar, don’t worry.” He nodded. “Don’t wait up for me.” He let out a small sigh and nodded again. I left without taking my keys or wallet with me. I figured I probably wouldn’t need them again. I walked to the forest and sat by the stream, stripping myself. I forced myself into my wolf form, abandoning my clothes where they were. I paddled a little way up the stream, hoping that if I followed it long enough, my scent would just end where I left my clothes. After a while, I picked a direction and ran, hoping that the others would forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye.