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I glare at him, my heart pounding loudly. Everything hurts.
He's hurting.
I’m hurting.
But neither of us can take the leap to end the torment.
“What the fuck do you want from me, Xeno?” I shout, livid now.
“I want the damn truth!” he roars back.
I blink, stepping away from him, from his red-hot wrath. For a moment we just stare at one another and I swear I see guilt flash across his gaze before he hardens his heart again.
“Pen—” he growls.
“Fine. You want the truth. You’ve fucking got it,” I bite back, striding over to the sound system and plugging in my mobile phone. Yanking off my shoes, I flick through to find the perfect track, hit play, then walk into the middle of the room.
Xeno watches me warily, his jaw tight, his arms folded across his chest as he leans back against the door. His bare chest is covered in a sheen of sweat, the taut muscles of his abs pronounced against his skin.
The piano intro begins and as soon Jorja Smith starts to singLet Me Down,Xeno’s chest heaves. He draws in a deep, shuddering breath, knowing this song just as well as I do. Good, then he’ll get the meaning well enough. When this song released, the Breakers had been gone a year. I’d still been a heartbroken, lonely mess and this song hit me hard. Nothing’s changed.
It still hits me hard, I’m still a broken mess.
Fixing my gaze on Xeno, I tip my head back and bend backwards, raising my hands in the air as I do. My right foot draws a circle in front of me as I pull upright and push forward onto the ball of my foot, drawing my left leg behind me in a kick that crosses my body. I land unsteadily, the emotion of the song, the burning fire in Xeno’s eyes and the confrontation between us still coursing through my blood. My steps falter just like my shattered heart.
Jorja Smith sings about being let down, and I feel her words as if they’re my own. Pulling myself upright on unsteady legs, I grasp my face, swiping at the wetness on my cheeks with the back of my hand. I hold his gaze, refusing to look away, refusing to back down or hide my feelings. My mask was ripped from me that night at Grim’s club and I haven’t quite been able to put it back on again. It doesn’t fit anymore.
Xeno slams his fist against the door, his veins popping beneath the skin of his forearms. I know he gets it.
He understands what I’m trying to say.
He let me down.
They all did.
Just like I let them down.
It’s all such a fucking mess.
When Stormzy starts to sing, I kick up my leg in a vertical hold before slamming it back down.
I let go.
Jerking my body so that my hips go left whilst my torso goes right, I fling out my arms, my hair lashing around my head like a damn whip as I spin, using Xeno as my spot so I don’t get dizzy. Grabbing my left wrist in my right hand, I yank myself towards Xeno, my finger pointing at my wrist as though a watch ticks there. Stormzy sings about squandering time, about missing precious moments. The lyrics echo the resentment I feel inside.
Three long years.
Three years to make mistakes.
To harden our hearts.
To shore up our defences.
Wasted time.
Squandered.
God, I’ve fucking missed him.
