Downfall | Austin Butler

Chapter 14

the rainwater drips
through a crack in the ceiling
and i'll have to
spend my time on repair
just like the rain,
i'll be always falling, yeah
only to rise and fall again
– if you were here,
thompson twins

——

Austin was an asshole.

Truly a fucking asshole for making me grin like one of those possums — that honestly looked oddly cute cheesing and all — when he pulled that little birthday stunt with the coffee.

Moreso when he dropped me off and refused when I offered to give him back his own jacket — his own fucking jacket — when I literally did not need it anymore. But, I knew what he was doing. I knew what he was trying to pull, and he wasn't being sly about it. Leaving me absolutely frustrated, I somehow managed to gain some balls for a hot second and bite right back.

"I know what you're doing, Butt-ler," I grumbled, bracing my hand firmly on his car door, my knuckles practically turning white.

"What am I doing?" He asked innocently, giving himself away when he tried to hide his amusement. His fingertips dragged across his lips as he blinked up at me.

That! — I wanted to scream, but I held back.

"Making me keep your jacket so you have a reason to see me again," I managed out quite confidently in my utter state of annoyance. It was pretty fucking bold. So bold that I found myself cringing as I replayed it in my mind now. "I'm not stupid, Austin," I rolled my eyes at him as I attempted to wiggle myself out of the fine fucking material. He watched my struggle as I switched my coffee cup between my hands to get it off. "I have a degree in English Lit after all, and— this," I waved the material of his jacket in my hands, "is a common play in every book."

"Who said I wanted to see you again?" He reasoned, looking totally serious which made me freeze in my spot.

"I —" Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Ouch. Wait no — no ouch? It hit me at the last second. I realized the tone of his voice no longer matched his words as they played over in my head, and his mannerisms were totally off too. He was smirking. Smirking at me. "I'm not gonna ghost you or whatever the fuck they say nowadays."

"Who's the elder now?" He joked, his eyes crinkling as he laughed into the palm of his hand.

"Shut it, grandpa," I snapped, dropping his jacket on the passenger seat before closing the door of his car.

I didn't really know what came over me. Why I had gotten so defensive over something so little — so simple. All I knew was that I trudged up the stairs to my apartment — irritated as fuck as I wedged my old fucking key into the shittiest key hole with the the most wobbly door knob.

My anxiety spiked as I remembered the day prior, readying myself to whip some serious ass, but thankfully I didn't have to once I managed to get inside successfully and found that there was no one home as I walked around with a random frying pan I copped from the kitchen.

Relieved, I finally made my way to my room and collapsed on my bed — spending a solid chunk of time just staring at my ceiling — wondering how I hadn't dreamed up everything. Wondering why Austin and I hadn't even bothered to talk about how we almost kissed the night prior— or at least I thought so — and how we were literally snuggled all up in each other's grill that morning. The fact that we just brushed all that over was honestly driving me insane.

Turning over to my phone that was resting on my nightstand, I suddenly felt inclined to pick it up and rant my ass off in a pretty straight-forward message to him— with a whole 'listen up asshole' kind-of-thing, but that really wasn't me.