ivy ; malachi barton

chapter thirteen ; wish you were sober

"kiss me in the seat of your rover. real sweet, but i wish you were sober." wish you were sober; conan gray

evelyn ❦

I was on the brink of tears as I watched Malachi and this random guy charge at each other.

Both Sway and I were yelling, a blur of screams and punches and collisions were making my head spin. I felt as though I was barely conscious, as if this wasn't happening to me in real life. It couldn't be real - the whole thing felt so foreign, so insane.

I almost collapsed to the ground myself when Malachi eventually won.

He had a busted lip, a fast-forming bruise on his cheek, but apart from that, he was barely touched. He grinned and chuckled like an absolute psycho, before he looked up at me. A wave of painful realisation washed over him as we made eye contact. His smile fell, and he ran his tongue over his teeth. He suddenly looked disgusted with himself, as if his actions revolted him now that he knew that was how I felt.

Not knowing what else to do, the entire room looking between Malachi, me, and the crying guy on the floor, I swiftly grabbed the boy's hand and headed for the back door. I kept my head down, the crowd parting like the red sea as we passed through.

Once we'd made it outside, away from the views of the windows, I broke. The situation had only just sunk in - I had been assaulted, and Malachi almost killed him.

"What the fuck was that?" I yelled, glaring at the boy. He stood only a foot or two in front of me, saying nothing. "Now you're being silent? Oh my god, you're fucking crazy. What were you thinking, Malachi?"

Still, he remained silent. He stumbled towards me, his eyes fluttering with daze and confusion. Then, it hit me. He was drunk.

"Of fucking course." I laughed without a trace of amusement. "I should have known."

With Malachi trying to fall on top of me and grab my face gently, I walked him over to a bench, sitting him down as if he were my toddler. How he had retained so much composure in there, but had turned to a blubbering mess now, was beyond me.

"Don't pretend like you can't speak just because you're smashed." I sneered, letting the boy keep a hold of my hands. He fidgeted with my fingers before he spoke.

"I don't trust myself." He slurred, keeping his head low in order to avoid eye contact with me.

I scoffed at his words; he sounded absolutely absurd. "What does that mean?" I replied, angling my head for him to look me in the eyes. He kept trying to look away, so grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at me.

"I don't trust that I won't say something stupid. I'll ruin it all over again, like I always do." He softly spoke, with more vulnerability than I'd ever heard from him. His dark eyes bore into mine, searching for some kind of sign.

"Ruin what?" I copied his gentle tone, cocking my head at him. I softened my grip on his chin, instead letting my hand rest around the side of his jawline. "What are you scared of ruining?"

The boy gulped, his head hanging slightly loose as he tried to avert his gaze from me. Weirdly enough, he seemed like he was unable to look away.

"You." He whispered. I felt the breath of his words against my mouth; that's goes close we had become. I could almost taste the alcohol on his tongue as I inhaled. "I'm so scared of ruining you and everything... everything about you." He hiccuped.

I furrowed my brow in confusion. I knew it was wrong to interrogate a drunk person, but I knew that it was the only time I may have been able to get any information from him. "Why, Malachi? If you're so scared of ruining me, why do you treat me like you do?"