Always There

Chapter One Hundred and Five

A half-empty bottle of vodka is next to her.

I rush towards her and drop to my knees at her side. The vodka bottle is open and so I screw the cap on and push it away.

I take Blossom's face in my hands. Her skin is pale and has a faint greenish tinge.

She's staring into my eyes but there's a hollow, empty look in her gaze. She opens her mouth, just an inch, but she isn't able to say anything before a small whimper escapes and she seals her lips shut.

I sit down beside her and gently lift her into my lap. She's wearing an old red T-shirt of mine that rides up her thighs when I lift her, revealing legs covered in goosebumps.

She falls limp in my arms, and I gently maneuver her so that her back is resting against my chest. Her head rolls back against my shoulder and she whimpers again.

"What's going on, Blossom? Where's Kennedy?" I whisper to her.

"Out." Her voice is shaky. "With Nate and Knox and Jane."

I smooth a hand up and down her thigh gingerly. "Why didn't you go with them?"

"Seemed like a double date. I didn't want to be a fifth-wheel and intrude on their date night," she mumbles.

This makes me frown. "They love you, Blossom. They wouldn't have felt that way at all."

She huffs.

"So you've been drinking straight from a vodka bottle alone in your apartment instead? Why? This isn't like you. I can tell that something is wrong," I continue.

Her eyes fall shut. "I just feel like a loser. People drink when they're upset, so I thought this would make me feel better. If anything, I feel significantly worse."

With a sigh, I stand up with Blossom still in my arms and I walk us towards the couch. I place Blossom down before taking a seat beside her and reaching for her hands. She lets me take them, but when I loop my fingers through hers, she doesn't reciprocate.

"You're not a loser. What makes you think that you are?" I ask.

She huffs at me and retracts her hands, turning her head in the other direction as though she can't bear to look at me any longer. "I don't want to talk about it. It's none of your business."

Despite the harshness to her words, I can't help but to chuckle and recline on the couch, making myself comfortable by pushing a pillow behind my head and slipping off my shoes. She looks over her shoulder at me to scowl before facing the other direction again.

She crosses her arms, and so I do the same. "Why bother calling me over here if you don't want to talk about it?"

She scowls at me again. "I don't like the thoughts that I'm having right now. Thoughts that I haven't had in years. Scary thoughts. I'm afraid to be alone right now. I had no one else to call."

She's still looking over her shoulder at me, and so I gently pat my chest. "Come lay down with me, then. Don't even bother lying to my face and saying that a hug from me won't make you feel better."

She considers this for a moment before raising a middle finger at me, muttering the words "fucking asshole" under her breath, and laying down and curling up on my chest.