“I’m so sorry, Scarlett,” I say. “I’m so fucking sorry. I was in a bad place, and I was just projecting it onto you. I know that’s not an excuse, but Jesus…I’m sorry.”
I lean my head back against the wall, scrubbing my hands across my face.
“It’s fine. It was stupid. I don’t let those things get to me, so I don’t know why I kept it up for so long,” she replies, and I turn my head back down to look at her. Tears are rolling down her face now, slowly. I don’t think she even notices. “I should have let it go.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. I don’t want her to cry. Jesus. I’ve hurt this girl too much already. If she cries right now, I won’t be able to handle it. If it was someone else making her cry like the day I walked her home, I’d want to beat them up. I’d beat them bloody until they apologised to her. But it was me.Idid this to her. “I was cruel to you. You’re allowed to feel things. It doesn’t mean you have to downplay your feelings because it took time to get over it.”
A sharp sob rips through her and she shoves her face into her hands. I don’t know what to do. She wouldn’t want me to see her cry.Idon’t want to see her cry.
I inch closer to her, trying my best to comfort her by my proximity.
“Shit. Uh…Don’t- Don’t cry, Scar. I really can’t have you crying on me right now.”
She pulls her hands from her face, slamming her small fists into her lap. How in the world is she able to look so pretty when she cries? I almost want to smile at her for it, but she doesn’t need my teasing right now.
“Then don’t say those things!”
“Say what things?”
“That I’m allowed to feel things because then I just feel more…things,” she sobs again as she desperately tries to push her hair out of her face, but it continues to stick to her forehead. Why the fuck is her hair so long?
“Come here,” I mutter. Another sob rips out of her in response. Before she can say anything with actual words, I turn her around, scoop her closer to me and pull her hair out of her face, tying it back with the hair tie on my wrist. I secure it tightly in a low ponytail and she doesn’t put up a fight. “Better?”
She sniffles, moving out of my grip to sit beside me. I still keep my arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “You justhappento have hair ties on you now, Branson?”
I swallow. “You hate it when your hair is down.”
“That didn’t answer my question,” she replies. I shrug. She relaxes after a few seconds, settling into my chest. “Why can’t you just be mean to me like you were at that time?”
I laugh quietly. “I don’t want to be mean to you. I never meant to be cruel. But as you started to play those games with me, I played along. I’d do anything you asked me to, you know that?”
“Why?” she asks, almost frustrated. She’s not crying as hard now, thank God.
“Because I don’t hate you. I’d never want to make you feel like I did that time. If you want to hate me and make fun of me, I can play along with you, but none of it is real.”
“Then what’s real?”
“What you said the other day,” I admit, swallowing. Her eyes widen. “I do want you, but you don’t. You’re not going to forgive me overnight and I can live like that. Like you said, you prefer sleeping with nameless dudes and a quick fuck. We’d probably kill each other.”
“Evan,” she presses, blinking up at me.
“Scar, spare me,” I say, laughing. “It’s fine. I should be the one comforting you even though your snot is covering my shirt.”
She punches me in the stomach, trying to move out of my grip, but I keep my arm around her shoulder, needing her close. “It is not! I’m not asking you to do any of this.”
“That’s the whole point,” I say, chuckling. She shakes her head at me but she’s smiling, her face still red. God, I want to kiss her so bad right now. What would she do if I did? She’d probably punch me in the stomach. She knows that I like her, and she can do with that information whatever she wants. When she’s ready to have that conversation, I’ll be here.
I’ll wait.
Honestly, I’d probably wait forever for her.
25
Scarlett
I did not have ‘Crying in front of Evan Branson’ written on my 2022 bingo card and I’m a little terrified. Not only did I hold his hand because I felt bad for him, I cried in front of him, he held me and he told me what I had been expecting. What’s worse is that I enjoyed having him hold me. His weight is new and comforting and those hands…
I never would have been vulnerable with him like that, but I was emotional as it was, I was trying my best to ignore what’s been going on with my family and he was there with his kind words and less dickish personality. I’m a simple girl, I cry when people say nice things to me.
