Right when I say the words I have been dying to let out since the first time I saw him again, Mason's body immediately stiffins above mine. The gentle, delicate kisses he was planting all over my neck, down to my collarbone have come to an end. His rough squeezes along the mount of my breasts have stopped, and all the heat in the room that was here only seconds ago has been extinguished.

 And in this moment I know, I fucked up.

Asking him to give me an answer was the right thing to do, but even though he's here, body hovering over mine, my skin has suddenly started to feel cold.

He lifts his head up out from the crook of my neck and I notice how his eyes have changed, they're not just dark, cold and constricted- they're empty.

"What did you just say to me?" His voice resembles disbelief as he glares down at me.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "Tell me why, Mason... just say it and you can have me."

I lift my hand up, attempting to place it along his cheek to try and soothe the anger building up inside of him but he quickly pushes it away, taking his hands off of me and sitting up from the bed.

"So you're threatening me now?"

My eyebrows narrow into him before I quickly push myself up, sitting right next to him. The closer I move, the further he gets away from me and my stomach sinks at the sight of it. This is how it usually starts, him refusing to let me touch him, get close to him or look at him a certain way before he lashes out on me.

"No, no," I say without hesitation, "I just want you to be honest with me. I deserve-"

I try to finish my sentence but he interrupts me, letting out an amused laugh and stepping off the bed. I make a mental note to keep my voice calm, collected so he won't over analyze it and twist my words, or somehow turn everything all on me.

I know letting his walls down isn't easy for him, I should have expected it not to go well but I figured after everything that's happened between us he would have at least tried to make an effort.

But as I sit here, watching his eyes glare down at me, fury swirling around in those iris' of his, I know that won't be the case.

"You deserve what exactly?"

"The truth."

"And what makes you think I'd tell you? 'Cause we fucked?"

I can feel the sting of his words, and it takes everything in me to act like what he's implying doesn't affect me.

"No, because you want me." He turns away, effectively shutting me out and as he rakes his hand through his hair I continue, "And you can't expect us to go anywhere if we can't tell each other the truth."

"Stop saying that." He says to me, his voice strict while he starts taking a few steps and turning, pacing around the room.

"Saying what?"

"Us. There is no 'us' Isabelle, when are you going to get that through your fucking head."

Deep breaths, deep breaths

"I'm not trying to argue with you-"

"Bullshit. That's exactly what you're trying to do- asking me some shit like this? It doesn't matter why I fucking did it-"

"Yes it does!" I yell, climbing off the bed so I'm able to stand in front of him. "You left, Mason. You left me-"

"Who gives a shit! I did what I had to do, collateral damages didn't concern me."

I scoff at his words, annoyed that no matter how high up in the clouds we are with each other, bringing up the past will always be a big trigger.

And no matter how much I'm trying to keep it together, his words cut me open- bleed me dry and all I'm able to do is take it because of how much I care about him.

"So what's what I was to you? Collateral damage?" I try keeping my voice steady, my eyes following him pacing around the room, while he looks at everywhere else but me.

But then he finally trails his gaze up and I can practically see the wall he has built getting higher and higher, leaving me with the version of him I hate to see.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to."

"I'll ask whatever the fuck I want to ask because you hurt me, Mason!"

Don't cry don't cry don't cry

"Fuck, how many times to do I have to tell you that I don't care!"

I flinch at his words. I hate it when he says that, because I know with everything inside of me that it isn't true.

I've never seen him like this before, so emotionally inept and withdrawn from me, and I have to remind myself not to show him how the dismissal of my feelings feels like I had just been kicked in the stomach.
"Don't give me that bullshit, you do care. You just pretend you don't because it's easier that way. But you're not going to do it with me- not anymore."

"Stop trying to fucking fix me all the time! You can't fix me, I can't be fixed!"

This time he's screaming at me, the vein on his forehead starting to throb, jaw tense and nostrils flaring. He drags his hand through his hair again, letting out a heavy breath, before balling his hands into tight fists as thick tension radiates off him.
"I'm not trying to fix you, I'm just trying to understand!" I shout back, feeling the tears I've been trying so hard to push back start to prickle my eyes.

It's crazy to think how only moments ago we were engulfed in each other, he was showing me how much he wanted me, begging me to be his- flaws and all. And now here we are, screaming and drowning in our own inescapable pasts. Every piece of pent up frustration we've been holding onto has exploded out of us, pooling at our feet.

"That's the problem, Isabelle, you're not going to understand! Nobody fucking understands." He lets out a short laugh, coming back to face me so I'm able to visibly see the distressed state he's in, telling me that his next few words are going to hurt. "You think you can strip naked and I'd just pour my fucking heart out to you, is that it?"

I sucked in a breath as the judgment he threw at me lands on my chest, unyieldingly heavy and burdening. This is the side of him I didn't miss. The side that not only gets defensive, but has to find ways to put me down. My eyes widen, an overwhelming amount of silence coating the air around us and I take a step back, angered and insulted by what he just said to me.

"Is that what you really think of me? That's not fair-"

"Life isn't fair Isabelle, get over it."

"I know that! That's what I've been trying to fucking tell you but you won't listen! You never listen, you only hear what you want to hear!"

Screw trying to keep myself composed, if he isn't going to, neither am I. I can't remember the last time he's made me this infuriated. I tried to talk, to have a voiced conversation without screaming at each other but it's no use. I don't know why I ever thought something like that would be possible between the two of us, I should have known better.

"That's because you're constantly being so fucking difficult all the time-"

"-Oh yeah, and you're the epitome of rational behavior." I interrupt, and his eyes send daggers at me, not amused by my rebuttal. I harden my own gaze, zeroing in on his displeased expression.

"This is what I am, Isabelle. Get used to it."

"I don't believe you." The words slip out before I'm able to stop them. I know I shouldn't be standing here trying to lift his spirits after all the shit he just said to me, but I hate to think that he doesn't see himself the way I do.

The fragile tightrope we always find ourselves walking on is shaking, threatening to break, leaving me with no other choice but to fall and crash down. This normally wouldn't trouble me- we've been through it before, right?

But the way he's looking at me, speaking to me tells me that when I do there will be no net to catch me this time.

"Stop." He's gone back to pacing back and forth, his chest heaving up and down, fists squeezed so tight they've turned pale.

I know I should stop, I'm pushing him too far, treading in dangerous waters but I can't keep running around in circles with him. I want things between us to change; get out of the cycle of always putting one foot forward, two steps back but that can't happen unless we tackle our problems and face them together.

"You left me for three years, no calls, texts, not even a single fucking letter and here you are, saying all the wrong things and still I'm here for you. You think I would do that if I believed that you were really this person?"

"Stop." He says again, his voice firm, strict and holding very little patience but I don't listen.

"There's good in you, Mason, I-"

He interrupts me, almost as soon as I speak the words he snaps. In a matter of seconds his hands strenuously grab the lamp sitting on his nightstand, the force so abrupt it immediately gets unplugged from the wall as he violently throws it across the room, shattering it into pieces.

"Stop saying that!" He screams at me and this time I'm not strong enough to hold the tears inside, each drop unwillingly running down my cheeks as I watch him kick his foot into the wooden nightstand over and over again until it effectively lies on the floor in between us, destroyed.

I focus on controlling my breathing, still not adapting to the switch that flipped inside him.

"Mason stop it-" He kicks the nightstand again, the sound of the sudden thrash vibrating within the walls of his room.

"This is what you wanted right?" He throws his hands up, stepping towards me and I take a step back, "To see the real me?"

"I-"

His fists slam down onto his dresser, the force of it creating a loud thud before he goes on.

"This is who I am! And you can't even fucking take that, you're actually standing over there crying over it. It's fucking pathetic."

I wince, unable to believe he just spoke to me that way, and I force my response through gritted teeth. "Don't call me that."

"None of this matters, Isabelle." He does it again, waving and dismissing my feelings, before stomping on them and tossing them aside.

"It matters to me!" I yell, my voice becoming high for my liking but it's all I can get out through the tears escaping.

"I don't care."

I take a step closer to him, "Stop shutting me out!"

"I get to decide what I tell you, and I'm not telling you this so learn your fucking place and stay out of it." He spits and my chest cracks from his callousness.

"You don't get to do that! You don't get to walk out on me without giving me an explanation. And I'll say this right now, that whatever the reason is you sure as hell can't use it as an excuse to treat me this way- not after everything I've done for you."

Something flashes in his dark, glazed eyes, an emotion I can't decipher. Regret? Shame? Guilt? Whatever it is it's toppled by the one emotion I can see very clearly: pain.

So, so much pain.

I should stop, cease this from going any further but by this point I know I have gone too far, stretched him too thin and I can't give up now.

"Why didn't you think about me?" He lets out a heavy sigh, running his hands over his face as if he's getting a headache, and that's enough to push me over the edge. "All you ever do is think about yourself and what you want! You're selfish- completely fucking selfish and I should hate you for what you did to me!"

"Hate me then! You should have fucking stayed away from me when you had the chance. But here you are- it's like you need me-"

I take another angered step toward him, "I don't need you! I've never fucking needed you!"

He scoffs, and for a moment I question if my words hurt him as much as he's been hurting me. "Fuck you."

"No, fuck you!" I shove him with both my hands putting all my strength into it, but he barely even moves. "Fuck you for kicking me aside, for making me feel like everything was my fault!"

I pummel my fist into his chest again with a frustrated yell, the once restrained rage slipping through my fingers each time I hit his chest, and all he does is watch, taking it as tears pour down my face.

"Fuck you for coming back and acting like nothing ever happened." I shove him again, "Fuck you for always trying to push me away! I never ask you for anything, all I wanted was for you to be honest with me, why can't you just give me that!"

"I can't!" He screams, backing up and stalking away from me.

His hands fist his hair, tugging on the roots like he wants to tear it out. I open my already trembling mouth to speak but before I could he turned from me, up towards his mirror, raises his fists and punches the glass a first, a second, a third time and I can't control the way my body jolts in shock.

And then I see it, the crushed glass splintering all over the floor with drops of red blood oozing from his knuckles over the bruises he got from last night. His skin is torn open and there's undoubtedly shards of glass lingering in the crevices of it but still he remains unfazed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" I shout through the mixture of emotions tugging on my heart for me to be there for him, clean him off and make sure he's okay, while the side of me with very little sanity left is what's gluing my feet to the floor, forcing myself not to touch him this time.

"Everything!" He screams back, fingers tugging on his hair once again.

And for the first time since this whole thing has started I don't feel the need to try and outdo his shouts, I just stand there, my face softening as the man in front of me looks livid, lost and completely broken.

It pains me to see him this way, so hurt and damaged and as much as I try to fight it I can't help the guilt creeping its way into my body over how I turned him into this. He told me to stop, to let it be and I didn't hesitate to ignore all his pleas.

His eyes are glossy, red and dark, hair tousled in every which way and blood still drips from his knuckles onto the floor around the broken glass.

But still when I look at him, he's everything I want.

I let out a sigh, tired and disappointed over how this day has turned so quickly for the both of us.

"Everything is wrong with me." He says, his voice soft and hoarse.

I realize that the emotions he's showing me now are the ones behind the mask, not just anger and rage, but sadness. A deep, deep sadness that's been rooted way beyond this moment. I only catch a glimpse of it, but it's enough to make me want to cleanse him of all of the suffering he's gone through, and bring him back to me.

So after a few seconds of silence, I hear myself speaking up.

"Do you remember why you took me to our treehouse?" His grief stricken eyes slowly trail upwards to mine, "It was to remind me that we grew up together, we know each other-"

"-You know nothing about me-"

"Listen!" I snap, sick of him interrupting me and I see him wince, before rolling his lips into his mouth signaling defeat.

"Fuck," I let out, running my hands through my hair, "You and I grew up together, Mason. Before everything- before you left you were one of my best friends. I may not know what's been going on with you, or why you did it, but I know you. I'm not trying to change you, or fix you, but I can't keep pretending like you leaving didn't hurt me, because it did."

His eyes slowly start to soften and I feel my voice crack, tears streaming down my face as I continue.

"It fucking hurt, and it still hurts- all the time, every day when I see you it hurts, Mason. And I've tried to be patient, I mean fuck, we've been through hell together, but we've also been through hell without each other and I'm standing here trying to give that part of myself to you but you're making it so fucking difficult."

Now I'm the one that's a mess, and I take a moment to try and collect myself, breathing in as big of a breath I can muster through the tears. From the way he's looking at me I can tell he wants to come closer, hug me, hold me, comfort me in any way he can but we've gone too far to get to that point now.

"I shouldn't even be here- I shouldn't keep doing this, giving you more of what you already don't appreciate. But I do because even though you've hurt me more than anyone else ever has I still care about you-"

"Stop." The softened look in his eyes has gone in an instant, jaw set back into a hard line and the cold empty expression slipped itself back onto his face.

"Mason-"

"There's nothing to care about. I'm nothing, Isabelle, the sooner you realize that the better."

"That's not true."

My eyes follow as he walks over to his dresser, forcefully opens it and pulls out dark items of clothing, immediately putting them on and dressing himself.

My stomach sinks even further, "Where are you going?"

It takes him a couple seconds to respond, he doesn't even give me a second glance until he's fully dressed.

"Away from this, away from you." He spits, my mind runs at about a hundred miles a second while I try to figure out how any of this is my fault.

I'm hurt, completely fucking hurt over how easily it is for him to just walk away.

"Because that's what you're best at right?' He lifts his head up, cocking a brow at me, "Leaving?" My words are painfully bitter and he trails his eyes off of me, bringing his hands up to cover his face, shielding me from seeing how my words affected him.

But then after a few seconds he sighs, drops his hands and looks back over at me.

"I can't change for you Isabelle, there's no point." His voice sounds just as tired as mine does. He takes a slow step forward and I immediately take another step away, my back almost hitting the wall behind me.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He goes back to yelling, "There's no good in me!"

The words seemed foreign to him, 'good'. As if he's never really seen himself that way at all, almost like the entire idea of it is physically impossible for him. Hell, the word looked like it tasted bitter even rolling off his tongue.

"No, stop. There is, Mason, I-"

It all happens so fast. He comes toward me, causing me to fully back up against the wall and right when he has me caged in he yells, raising his closed fist before it collides with the wall next to me.

"Stop saying that! Stop!"

He's so close to me, the volume of his voice ringing into my ears as he hits the wall once more, even harder than before. It wasn't near my head, the impact was beside it, a close enough distance to not leave my body trembling.

But still even then, my breaths become shallow, rapid and shaky, and this time no matter how hard I try to control them, keep them leveled, something as easy as taking a breath seems so difficult.

And just like that, he snaps out of it, becoming fully aware of what he'd just done. His face falters, hooded eyes raising slightly, sorrow and guilt etched onto his brow, the weight of it crushing his shoulders as he leans further into me.

His breaths are hot and heavy, face buried into the crook of my neck, seeking solace in our close proximity to each other.

"I'm sorry," He says, his voice breathless and tangled. "I'm so sorry."

His arms remain on either side of my body, holding onto the wall, while his face remains hidden, whispering apologies over and over again, and my heart cracks a bit each time he does.

"It's okay." I hear myself saying.

I don't know why it's okay, I can't explain why I feel that way at all but I do.

I push at his chest as gently as I can without fracturing him any more, and he straightens his body enough for me to be face to face with him. He seems too tired to even keep his head up, so it leans against my own, our breaths mixing together once again and my rampant heartbeat is slowly minimizing speed.

What the hell is wrong with me? All of my riling, overbearing emotions were being put to ease, and I know indubitably that it's because of him. Even in the same room, we were so far apart, distancing ourselves from each other every time the other person spoke another word.

But now here he is, slowly coming back to me again.

After a moment I reach for him, slowly and tentatively, and this time when I attempt to touch him he let's me. My palms rest on either side of his face, cupping his cheeks and pressing his forehead against mine even more, trying to bring him closer to me.

As my gentle touch stays on his skin, his body seems to relax a little, breaths becoming easier than before. The cold, dead look on his face is slowly being washed away with each second I stand here, coaxing him and attempting to bring him back to me.

"I'm not scared of you, Mason." I brush my thumb along his cheek, continuing to caress him, "I'm not scared of you."

Every breed of pain has a stake in him, and no matter how many times I try to pull one out, it only sends more in, piercing through his skin and inflicting more agony than before.

Our breaths become rhythmic, his whole body humming with tension as he closes his eyes, forbidding me to see any source of emotion hidden in them.

"Please don't make me say it baby, please." He says against me, so soft I barely even heard it leave his lips and my entire body quakes, a shiver running down my spine over that state he's in.

I bit my bottom lip, willing myself not to cry.

"I'm here, Mason." I whisper to him, "No matter what, I'll always be-"

"Don't." He pushes my hands off his face, backing away from me as if my touch and the meaning behind my words had just burned him.

I don't get it.

All I do for him, and it still is never enough.

"Why is it so hard for you to admit that I mean something to you? Or do you really not care about me at all?"

He takes a slow, hesitant step toward me, lifting his hand up as if he's afraid his simple touch will hurt me. And when he brings his large calloused hand against the soft skin of my cheeks, brushing his fingers against it I force myself not to yield.

"I do." He says, the words almost constricting in his throat.

I wish it were enough, but it isn't.

"Then why do you keep doing this to me?" The tears have resurfaced, emptying an ocean of streams along my cheeks, and he brushes them away before they trickle down my jawbone. "You're not supposed to hurt the people you care about."

My words trigger him before I can even try to decipher the reason behind it. His movements along my cheeks stop, eyes staring back into my wet and glossy ones. The mask has been slammed down, walls building higher than before while I find myself on the other side of it once again, screaming and pushing trying to get through.

His jaw ticks as he backs away from me, giving me one last look before his tall frame stalks towards the door.

"Don't leave!" I shout, but he ignores me, taking even more and more steps away from me. "Mason, I swear to God if you walk out that door I'm-"

My words are cut off by him slamming the door shut so hard I'm surprised it didn't fall off its hinges.

Then I sink to the floor, careful not to land on any glass shards before I lift my knees up, bury my head in my hands and scream.

❀

"You okay?" His voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I lift my gaze up to him sitting across from me, a smile too cheerful plastered on his lips.

After I regretfully waited at Mason's house for another hour, hoping he'd return I went back home, crawling into bed and letting my emotions run free until I received a call from Aiden.

I had unfortunately forgotten, yet again about another date we had.

So I quickly got out of bed, and took a shower, cleansing myself of everything that occurred today while occasional tears had managed to slip out.

I tried not to think about it, but every second I was replaying what happened in my head, going over it to try to analyze if any of it had been my fault.

But it wasn't.

Mason and I walk a fragile line, but today he truly showed me parts of himself I didn't even know were there. It seems as though our past will always come between us, and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it would break us sooner or later.

I nod, giving Aiden a small smile, and feeling a bit shameful over how much energy it takes to do so.

Vickies is as it always is- warm and comfortable but for some reason it still doesn't soothe me. I wasn't surprised he took me to our restaurant, normally I'd be all for a cheap bowl of pasta but right now I just feel nauseous, completely sick to my stomach.

"Is this about what I asked you?" He looks over at me, genuinely concerned and it hits me that maybe I'm not as good as hiding my emotions as I think I am.

"No, it's not about that."

"I wasn't trying to rush you, and if I did so then I apologize. You don't need to give me an answer now-"

"I already know my answer." I interrupt him, setting the fork I have in my hand down and leaning it against the rim of the bowl filled with barely touched pasta in front of me.

His brows shoot up momentarily before he recovers, clearing his throat.

"You do?"

I give him another nod. This entire week I've been neglecting answering the question about whether or not I'd like to be his girlfriend, and I can't escape the guilt I feel weighing on top of all my other hindering emotions because of it.

I've been unfair to him, even though we weren't together, I haven't necessarily been the most 'faithful'. I was afraid to hurt him, Aiden has been a part of my life when it was at its worst. He was there for me when my father died, and my mother left. He was there when I found out about my college funds, and after all the shit I've put him through he's still here for me.

It sounds familiar- too familiar.

And after today, I know what I have to do now.

I look back down at the table, suddenly becoming nervous when my eyes catch the scratches and broken skin along my wrists. I forgot about them, and I realize that this entire time they've been out, Aiden hasn't said a thing about it.

I let out a sigh, taking my hand off the table and down onto my lap.

I have to be honest with him, he deserves the truth.

"Aiden, there's something you should know-"

Just as I finally muster up the courage to speak, I'm interrupted by the loud shrill of my phone ringing. His eyes narrow into me, seeming disappointed by the interruption and I quickly apologize, picking my purse up off the floor and digging in to find the ringing device.

After I take it out and look down at the screen I immediately hit the decline button, placing my phone screen down onto the table.

"Sorry, it was Jessica."

He gives me a small smile, "No worries. Anyways, you were saying?"

This time I'm not even able to open my mouth before my phone rings again, and I pretend to ignore the heavy sigh falling from his lips as I pick up my phone once more and hit decline.

"You seem to be very popular tonight." He says to me, his voice cold and short, "Are you sure you don't want to call back?"

"It's fine," I excuse, "She can wait."

I need to tell him the truth before I psych myself out completely, just as I always do. I can't take any more lies and manipulations anymore, I've had enough of it.

But then the phone rings for a third time, and from the look on Aiden's face it's become clear to me that I'm not the only one who's had enough.

"Elle, just take it." He says, his patience cut in half.

"I'm sorry."

He waves me off, "It's fine, go."

I apologize once more before standing up from my seat and walking out the front door. The cold breeze makes the suffocated feeling I felt moments ago feel long forgotten and I look down at the screen once more, before answering it.

"Jess, now's not really a good-"

My voice comes to a halt when I hear her muffled sobs on the other side of it, and my heart breaks for the millionth time today. She sounds just as I did hours ago, completely hopeless and a gut wrenching twist tears through my stomach over what could possibly be wrong.

"Jess.." I keep my voice calm, as soothing as possible as she tries to catch her breath over the phone. "Jess, talk to me. What's wrong?"

She sniffles, croaking a hiccup before she answers.

"It's Mason. Something happened." 

A.N.

phew! stay tuned for the next update, I have a feeling it's the one you've all been waiting for :)