I told Tommy I wouldn’t come back here anymore. That I’d just ignore Maisie, that I’d forget about her.

But I can’t, I love her. I’m sixteen I don’t have a clue about anything in life, and I love Maisie.

My lungs burn as I sprint down the sidewalk. I have to get to Maisie, I don’t know why, I just have a feeling that she needs me.

Our last talk was so emotional for her. She’s hurt herself, she’s almost died because she didn’t want to be alive. I don’t know why but something tells me that she told me about it because she’s planning on doing it again.

You’re too late! A voice echos in my mind. I shake my head, breathing through my mouth as I run to the tree that’s next to Maisie’s bedroom window.

Without even taking a small break to catch my breath, I throw myself onto the tree the rough bark scratching my palms as I climb.

I grab a branch, and pull myself up to her window. The green leaves are blocking my view into her bedroom, which only makes me scramble faster to her window.

It’s unlocked and all I have to do is lift the frame of the window. I jump from the branch and land on my feet on the hardwood floor.

Maisie is sitting on her bed, her hand is shaking as I look at her wrist I see a huge cut that’s spilling dark, red blood.

I run to her, still filled with energy even after my run and climb.

“Mase,” I say breathlessly, falling onto her bed in front of her. Her wrist is way worse up close, around the huge gash there are little tiny cuts.

I pull my shirt over my head, grabbing Maisie’s arm wrapping my blue shirt around her cut.

Maisie sobs quietly as I tighten my shirt around the cut to slow down the blood. I scan around her bed to find what’s done this to her, my eyes land on a kitchen knife that’s resting in her other hand.

I reach for the knife, wanting to beat it up like it’s human. The silver blade is dyed red with Maisie’s blood.

I take the black handle in my hand and toss it across the room. I know that’s not really helping but I can’t stand to look at it.

I scoot closer to Maisie, pulling her into a tight hug. I keep her bandaged arm pressed agaisnt my chest so my shirt doesn’t unravel. Maisie puts her cold hand on my neck, crying softly into my shoulder.

I hold her close, shutting my eyes as I breathe out of my mouth. I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to eat or sleep, I don’t want to go home. I just want to hold Maisie I want to keep her safe, I never want to leave her side.

“Thank . . . You,” Maisie mumbles in between sobs.

I nod, letting her know that I heard her. That I’ll always hear her. I put one of my hands against Maisie’s head clinging onto her blonde hair.

“Why?” I whisper, swallowing my tears as I feel my shirt starting to soak with her blood.

Maisie shakes her head, gasping for air. “I. . . Don’t . . .know.”

She does know. I know she does, she knows everything. She’s just scared.

“Is it because of the crash?” I ask, tighting my grip around the handful of hair I’ve been holding onto.

Maisie sighs. “It’s a lot of things.”

So that’s a yes. But there’s always more, like how there’s always two sides to a story. Is it weird that that line reminds me of Maisie and me?

“You don’t have to tell me,” I murmur. “We can just sit for a while.”

Maisie nods once, her tears running down my bare arm. “I don’t belong here,” Maisie’s voice trembles.

I let out a long breath, licking my chapped lips before I speak. “Do I make you feel like that?” I have no idea why that’s the first question I want to ask. It’s always been a fear of mine that Maisie would just have a feeling that I wasn’t who I’ve been telling her I am.

Maisie shakes her head. “No,” her voice is so soft I can barely hear it.

There are millions of things I want to tell her. Millions of ways I could tell her. And now the first words that slip out of my lips are.

“You’re the best part of me.”

Maisie’s sobbing stops for a second. She pulls out of the hug, holding her arm. “I’m not. . .look at me.”

I don’t need to, Maisie’s face is already engraved in my mind. “Just . . . Let me hold you.”

I feel like that was the wrong thing to say, but Maisie’s lips bounce to a quick smile that ends before it started.

“If you promise to stay,” Maisie mumbles.

Relief floods through my heart as I hear her words. “I’m not planning on leaving.”

Maisie falls onto me, and suddenly I feel like everything’s going to be okay.

(I just thought I’d put some of the songs I listen to when I write Davian and Maisie moments. Just incase you might want to listen to one of them while you read. Thank you for all the support and likes!!)

Wherever you will go by The Calling They don’t know about us by One direction Breakeven (Falling to pieces) by The Script

I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself. I still can’t. I wake up, think of you, kick myself for thinking of you, get ready, go to school, and see your beautiful funny-looking face, instantly smiling but then realizing I’m doing so and looking away. Everyday, this happens. Everyday, I notice you, look at you, think a little too much about you. A lot too much. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because you’re so funny, holding the attention of the class, including my own, as you make a silly comment about something someone said, making the entire class laugh, but no one more than me. Maybe it’s your own laugh, so obnoxious yet adorable, one of my favorite sounds, making me giggle just at hearing it come out of you. Maybe it’s your voice, so deep and soothing, unlike any other, tickling my brain whenever you speak, and you always say the right thing even when you don’t. Or the way you sing, loud, very loud, but quite nicely after some practice, and the grin on your face when you realize you hit those notes perfectly after hours of trying is everything in the world. Your laugh makes me laugh, your smile makes me smile. I don’t know why. You’re not even thaaat “cute” or “hot” or “handsome,” but there’s just something about you that makes up for all that, and for some reason some of the things you sometimes do make you seem “cute” and “hot” and “handsome” in the moment, like you’re this whole other person I can only catch a glimpse of at certain points in time. Then again, I’m not “pretty” or “beautiful,” either, alrhough you seem delusional enough to maybe think so. Maybe it’s your willingness to help others or how fast you can pick things up in class or any of those other little things about you. Maybe it’s the fact that your eyes are the most gorgeous two things I’ve ever seen—I finally understand why they say they’re “drowning” in your “ocean eyes.” Maybe it’s because you use those eyes to steal a glance here and there, and unintentionally intentionally called me “pretty,” and have brushed my hands two or three times now, “accidentally,” of course. But I can’t help but long for the day it isn’t accidental. I’m not sure why, but I want to get to know you and feel you and touch you and maybe even kiss you and touch you more and feel you more and kiss you harder and fall in love. Maybe. But I don’t know why.

I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself. “What do you mean, Rylee?”

I didn’t hurt anyone. I mean- not this time.

“So, how are you doing?” I really wish you would just… Hush. I mean I’m trying to talk.

How am I doing? Well I’m doing okay. I’m hanging in there. In there by my noose.

“And are you-“ SHUT UP. SHUT UP!

“I’m trying to help you.” I don’t need help. I just need to talk.

And to talk without interruptions. Interruptions from the voices, I mean.

“Go ahead, we’re listening.”

Everyone’s always afraid. They always run in two seconds. Or either shut me down, lock me up.

But then I saw him. He wasn’t afraid. He didn’t pity me.

He actually didn’t care about me. Did I find that comforting? Yeah.

Sadly, yeah. I don’t expect you to listen.

To what he said to me… The toxic parts, cheating. The dark parts- sex, etc. Not calm no, violent.

You taught me something. Violence was good with you. That dominant girls were cool. I guess that’s enough about that.

How about the three-some part? No. Should probably fast forward.

……………….. ⏩ …………………..

You liked toxic, that’s for sure, haha. Loved seeing me talk to other guys. Liked it when I was sitting in your lap. Because you felt like you had control.

Lowkey emo, your hair in your face. “Avoiding cameras,” you smiled. It sent chills down my spine. God, I loved that high.

You’d be rough and hard. Force me to do stuff. And I liked it.

But you liked me mad. That was the only time though. I don’t talk about you much, no. Because, yeah, it hurts when I do.

How I clung to you with everything. Tore my nails from their beds… How I was so mad at you, haha. Mad at the one who didn’t care.

Never asked how I was- And I liked that. I did.

Was I surprised at you? When that message came through?

“I’m sorry. I’ve changed.” I didn’t reply, I couldn’t.

I thought about it. My heart said yes. My head said no.

A day later you texted again.

“I have a spare room in my house. Was wondering if you’d take the chance to escape. You know where you belong.”

I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help myself. Almost two years ago, I clung to you until my nails were ripped out. I wanted you because you didn’t want me. You were the first that didn’t care. And I liked that.

And now- I’m sorry for a different reason. Because I promised myself something.

I would never. ever. be manipulated. again. So come my way, perfect smile and gorgeous lips. Come my way with your hair in your face, shady and quiet. Touch me again.

Because I swear to God, I’ll manipulate you until the day you die- don’t misread- it’ll be by my hands. I’ll make you swallow that perfect smile of yours. I’ll bust those gorgeous lips. I’ll shave your head, make you scream so you’re not quiet. Touch me, I dare you. I’ll break each one of your fingers, until you beg me…

Because I like that.

Once you told me; “It’s not a threat, babygirl.” You kissed me from my ear to my collarbone. Shivers went up my back and I closed my eyes. You whispered sweetly, biting my ear, “It’s a promise.”

You’re damn straight it is.

A little girl asked her mom for a cat and the mom said “ maybe God will give you a cat.” So the little girl ran outside and started praying

—————— I was on my way to work I noticed out the passenger window a group of fire fighters trying to get a cat out of a tree so I parked my Raptor truck and asked if they needed help so four guys thought it would be a great Idea to get the rope out of my truck and tie it to the branch the cat was on and tied the other branch to my truck so as I put the truck in drive I drove slowly until I heard the branch creak well the rope broke and in the distance I could hear the branch swing like a bat I sat there for a second, I’m sure it’s fine…. Then I drove off to work

————-

A week later I noticed my neighbor buying pet food

“I thought you didn’t like pets Miss May.”

“I don’t.” May said “ but Angel wanted a cat so I told her to asked God next thirty minutes she comes in with a big smile and a cat in her arms.”

Trying not to laugh I waved goodbye once I got in my truck I chuckled then started laughing

“I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself.” I cry, “I mean, I just did it but I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t stop myself from doing it.”

“You knew it was wrong, you could very well have stopped yourself.” Charlie yelled at me.

I know it doesn’t make sense, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“You broke my locket, you know, the locket keeping me from illness.” She screamed.

Charlie was diagnosed with cancer when she was young, we made a locket which basically saved her, as long as she wears it she can’t be ill.

It was earlier that day, I can’t even remember it properly. She’d been sitting doodling, my eyes landed on her locket and… I don’t know… I felt, like, cold and just dark, like something else was taking over me. I couldn’t see or hear but when the cold darkness released me a saw her locket at my feet; ruined, destroyed, broken.

I don’t think Charlie will ever understand that I didn’t mean it, or forgive me. I wouldn’t forgive someone who just hospitalised me.

“I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“SO MUCH THAT YOU TOUCHED MY GODDAMN BARBIE”

“Stop screeching like a pterodactyl bro”

“ I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself. I mean…look at you Zach.” Aiden murmurs, as she sits on the bed, drinking from my mug.

In my lair.

In my bed.

“ It still doesn’t answer that…you practically shoved yourself onto me and…” my thoughts become hazy as warmth spreads rapidly onto my cheeks.

Aiden mumbles a small ‘cute’ before answering. “ Well, I already did. You and I have been playing this game of….let’s call it avoidance. I wanted you. And now, I got a taste.” Her lip curves into a smirk, eyes swirling with mischief.

Setting her tea down to the nearby nightstand, she crawls towards me, eyes heavy. I stare, motionless as her face is nearly inches away from my own

My breath was caught- I couldn’t breathe. How does she-

“ And since I got a taste, I want more…” her eyes held so much emotion, I’m light headed. She has me pinned against the bed frame, her cool eyes meeting my frantic ones.

“I-p-uh..”

She backs up, giggling uncontrollably.

“ Look at you! Some smooth talking making you all flustered and bothered. Ha- you’re such a subm-“

As quickly as I could- I cover her mouth.

“ You can call me many things…but you will not call me that…”

Her eyes flash hurt, until they mix. Conjuring.

Before I could pull away to explain I wasn’t upset with her, this girl had the audacity to lick my hand.

I sat there, contemplating life as she bursts out laughing.

What did I get myself into?

~~

“ Now, crack the eggs into the bowl darling…”

Aiden nods, for once obeying. And plus, calling her ‘darling’ has gotten more comfortable for myself within the morning we spent together.

“ Remember, be more gentle this time. This isn’t a villain needing to be pounded in.”

“ Mmm…maybe you would like that Z”

My face flushes hot, trying to focus on the recipe in front of me. Who knew that one of the top hero’s was such a….flirt?

Or tease? What is even the difference?

Glancing to my side, I see her perfectly crack both eggs, putting them into the silver bowl.

“ Now the…vanilla “

“ Already got it Z. What are we making anyways?”

I hand her the measuring spoons, as I go to the stovetop.

“ Do you want waffles or pancakes?”

“ Ooo, uh. Hm…what do you want Z?”

I look back at her, her eyes soft and gentle. As my back was turned, I see she poured the flour along with the rest of the dry ingredients, however…

This was my moment. My chance. I’d be a fool not to take this

“ I’m asking you, sugar…” I say, facing her

“ Sugar? Pfft- why sug-“

It was my chance to cut her off.

I pull her close to me, wiping the stray flour on her cheek.

“ Well…you taste like sugar. Is that so wrong to call you?”

Her eyes shine bright, with her cheeks flushed.

“ I-Z stop it. This isn’t fair!”

“ It is fair, Sugar. Alls fair in Love and War.”

She puffs her cheeks out, crossing her arms

“…”

“…waffles…please…”

“ will do, my darling.”

Silence envelopes the room as I prep the waffle maker. Every now and then, Aiden peeks over to see what I’m doing. Eventually, we have both our servings of waffles made, with us sitting in the living space with our plates present.

“ Well, how is it?” I ask, fidgeting with the couch. Ever since I did…whatever that was, she’s been quiet. Behaved. Is she upset at me? At what I said? She is like sugar though- personality wise. Was it too much? What if-

“ You’re overthinking things Z- it’s amazing. Did you not think I would enjoy it?” She looks at me.

“ I…I wasn’t thinking of that actually. My food is decent- no wonder why you are still here.” I chuckle, cutting the waffle into a smaller piece to chew on.

“ Well?” She sets her fork down, pushing away the tray table. She moves closer to me, holding my hand.

“ Speak up”

“ Well…I just…”

I’ve already shown vulnerability, so why is this so difficult?

“ I…I’m sorry…are you sure you want to be with…me?”

Her gaze softens, grasping onto my other hand.

“ Why would you say that, Zack?”

“ I….I’m a villain. Looked down upon. Just a unwanted, filthy, disgusting villain that…doesn’t deserve a happy ending. I’ve…hurt people and…I…I’ve never done this before and I just…feel like I can’t help you…satisfy…whatever you want from me.”

Tears shoot down my face, with Aiden watching. Her eyes…

Those eyes are so…

“ Zack…you’ve never hurt anyone on purpose during our fights. Even if they do get banged up…I see your eyes. Those cunning, caring eyes. And I chose you for solely that reason. I don’t understand why you’re a villain, but you aren’t a good one.”

I stare at her, taken aback.

“ I don’t mean you like suck, we’ll you do but- not the point. You aren’t meant to be a villain, Z. And I chose you because you aren’t going out of your way to hurt others. And…you do realize this is my first relationship as well, right?”

She grips onto my hands, caressing my thumb with her own.

“ I might be a flirt and can go too far but that’s who I am. You seem to enjoy it too, so what’s wrong with that? Just shows that I’ll be taking the lead in this relationship.”

She smiles, closing the space between us.

“ Admit it, Z. You’re stuck with me. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. You aren’t just any weird, rude, villain.”

She lightly kisses my nose, then shoved her lips onto mine.

I let out a grunt, falling back onto the couch. Aiden’s on top of me, a huge grin plastered on her face.

“ You’re my villain. And a sweet one at that.”

“I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself.”

My arms remained shakily outstretched, as if I was attempting to calm down a rampant stallion who had just bucked me into the dirt. Arthur's gaze never strayed from mine, his eyes looking through me, cold and dead.

"Arthur. It's okay buddy. We can still fix this." My voice trembled uncontrollably, I knew what had just happened was unfixable, and so did he. But I needed to get his gun out of my face.

"I just couldn't help myself Hank. I just couldn't." He clicked the hammer of his still smoking revolver down, all while continuing to look through with the same dead stare.

My body went from gently shaking the violently vibrating as I backed myself into the wall. I could hear the light squelch of the blood drenched boards beneath my feet with every hesitant step.

"It doesn't need to be this way Arthur! We ca-"

"Couldn't help myself."

“I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself.”

My jaw drops in disbelief. I’m standing here looking at the man I thought loved me. After finding out he’s been fucking my cousin he hits me with ‘I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself’.

“You couldn’t-“ I don’t even finish.

The more I stare at him the more I realize how much of an idiot I am. With his week chin and slightly dumpy posture I can see now that I’ve been punching down.

He is so beneath me that it’s ridiculous. I think the thing that upsets me most is that my mother was right.

About him and about Cassie, my faithless cousin. That is what stings the most because she’s been living with me for the past few months while she gets back on her feet. I told her she was welcome to anything in my apartment. I just didn’t think to exclude my boyfriends dick in that statement.

Lesson learned.

“I don’t know why, I guess I just couldn’t help myself,” she stutters, the words tumbling over each other.

“You couldn’t help yourself to my boyfriend?!” I exclaim in disbelief. “You are - were - my best friend. I can’t believe this.” Emily - who had been my best friend since the third grade - was a cheat, a traitor, a liar. A fake. Ohhhh how those insults were wanting to roll off of my tongue, oh how I wanted to see her in pain. But I held back.

“I’m so sorry…” her voice falters and suddenly her shoes seem so interesting. Her ginger hair tumbles over her face, desperately trying to hide the tears. But I know her too well, at least I thought I did.

“I can’t believe you Emily. I just can’t,” I say, raising a shaky finger towards the door. I want to say that I’m sorry but I would be lying. “Leave.”

She looks up, her lip trembling. “May…” I almost feel a bit of mercy, a bit of remorse for my lifelong friend. I shake my head and refuse to let my voice quiver.

“Get. Out,” I repeat, more sternly this time. Tears threaten to release themselves as Emily hesitates, and then walks out the door, flaming hair trailing behind her.

I sink into the armchair and sob. Sob like there’s no tomorrow. Sob like Emily didn’t do what she did, like Matt didn’t leave me for her. I almost don’t notice Emily coming back in, I almost don’t notice her snatch a shiny Diamond ring off the coffee table next to me, but I could see out of my peripheral vision her initials carved into the band…