Spark

8 - I'm No One

I just wanna be yours-Arctic Monkeys

"Don't ever leave me." He cried, his arms tightening around me. I stood flush against his chest, his face against my neck as he let out quiet, devastating sobs. His chest wracked occasionally and although his tears were barely audible even in the quiet of the night, I still heard him. I always heard him.

Hesitantly, I lift my hands and knot my fingers into the side of his shirt, unsure of how to comfort him at this moment. I'd never had to comfort someone before, I'd always been the one being comforted.

We seemed to have a knack for this, pouring and developing emotions at night, clinging to each other while silently begging the other not to crush us in a way that'll completely destroy us.

My neck was damp from where he'd sobbed into it when he lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot and my heart ached as I saw the hurt blatantly on his face. I'd never seen him like this. I never wanted to see him this way again. Instinctively, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, not bothering with the fact that I was straining my legs by standing on my tip-toes. He noticed this and wrapped an arm around my waist, to pull me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. I buried my head into the crook of his neck and breathed in his scent against the whipping, night air.

For the first time ever, I leaned closer to Miles Bryant's ear and whispered, "I won't."

He stiffened against me then, probably unsure if he had heard me talk or not. I felt flushed and didn't like the feeling speaking brought me then so I just clung on to him tighter.

We're fine, Miles. Absolutely brilliant.

×××

Today is Miles' dad's memorial. I know he's not going to be in school today but rather than feeling overjoyed at the notion of not having to deal with him shooting eye daggers at me throughout the day, I'm terrified because I don't want him being alone today. He was terribly close to his father and when his dad died, I watched a tiny bit of him crumble and go underground with him.

He was broken for a couple of days. Wouldn't shed a single tear or talk to anyone. He stayed in his room and played the same song over and over again. It was the same one his dad used to thump around their home and laugh and become a manic to. I could hear the music in my bedroom from how loud Miles played it afterwards. He was like a broken CD. On a loop, not wanting to grieve or get over him. And then, one night, he'd tossed pebbles at my window and I was scurrying out to meet a broken-hearted boy who clung to me like he was terrified the world would disappear from beneath him.

Walking past his house on my way to school now, I have to clench my fists to stop myself from walking up to his door and demanding to see him.

I have to remind myself that he's changed. He shows me glimpses of the boy he once was and there's a part of me who's probably still terribly deranged over that boy but he'd changed everything for us that night. Broken every promises we ever made to each other and for a while, broke me. He wasn't sunny and bright anymore, he was dull and cruel.

Forcing out a pent up breath, I close my eyes and scurry away, chanting the mantra 'Miles is cruel' in my head until I was out of our street.

I'm met with an overly hyper Morgan when I walk into school, my fingernails digging into my palms. She squeals and makes incoherent noises as she grabs my hands, oblivious to my restraint and begins jumping up and down with me.

"Pride and Prejudice," She squeals and I groan. "I got Elizabeth."

My eyes bulge then. "No way!" My disdain for school theatre disappears then, as do my worries about Miles. I willingly begin to hop with my best friend. "Who got Darcy?" I waggle my brows as I say the last bit.