I was half-asleep when Lottie climbed out of the car, though conscious enough to bid her goodbye before resting my head back against the window. I faded in and out for the next part of the drive, only really coming to when Frazer had climbed into the back with me, his hands gently shaking me awake.

"Hey, we're here," he softly said.

My eyes squinted at him. "Here where?"

"Your place. I figured I should let you walk in... I don't think your dad would appreciate me carrying you in passed out..."

With his comment, I shifted upright, glancing out the window to confirm we were indeed in front of my house.

Then, just as quickly, I ducked back down. "Shit," I hissed.

"Shit?" he replied.

"Take us away," I whispered.

"What?"

"I can't be seen with you!"

"You can't—"

"Please, take us away."

"Fine," he said, backing out of the backseat as I quivered in fear, before returning to the drivers' seat. "Where to then?" he asked, still not driving the car.

"I don't know! Just go!"

And so he did... He drove, and drove, and drove. I didn't recognise anything. I didn't really pay much attention even after we left the suburb. I just sighed in relief that dad didn't know...

What would he say if he knew I got back in a car with Frazer... That I drunk-called Frazer... I can't let him know that. Not after everything...

When we pulled to a stop again, I finally emerged from my thoughts to take stock of the surroundings. "Where are..." I started to say until I realised. "Lottie's?"

"Only other place I know to take you," he replied, chipping slightly at the wall I had erected between us.

My hostility dulled a little as I glanced at him, before admitting, "I don't know if she's still up to let me in."

"Try calling her?"

So I did. Fishing my phone from my bag, I dialled her number and waited. And waited. And waited. Until... "You have reached the message bank of..." Hanging up the line, I said, "I think she's asleep." Why oh why did I not go in with her the first time?

"We can wait a bit... See if she calls back."

So we did. Sitting in silence in his car, we waited for her. But nothing came. "I don't think she's calling."

"Well... Where next?"

"I... Don't have anyone I'm that close to."

"Home again?"

I bit at my lip as my thoughts stewed. How would I justify this to dad? I texted him earlier that I was staying at Lottie's... so if I suddenly stumbled home without Lottie, he'd ask who drove me.

I could lie...

Though I'm a terrible liar.

Shit.

I don't really have a choice though...

He's going to grill me for calling Frazer. If he's still up, he might even kill Frazer. And it's all because I stupidly—

"I've got a spare room... if you're really against going home," Frazer cut me from my thoughts.

I glanced at him, gaze narrowing in suspicion.

He raised his hand. "Just an offer... You don't have to take it. And I don't mean any funny business."

I glared at him for a few more moments, but eventually my resolve crumbled. Because even if he was a stranger now, even if I barely recognised him, Frazer would never try anything like that with me. "If that's okay..." I mumbled.

"Completely." But he made no move, as if waiting for my full consent.

So I said, "Yes, please. I'd like your spare room."

▷▷

"I was just..." I said back to him, but I had nothing to finish my sentence. Caught completely off-guard, I hadn't even thought what I would say if he caught me sneaking out. Well, the whole intention was to avoid him...

"Just doing a runner?"

"Yup."

He was quiet for a few beats of my heart, but it thudded loudly, deeply, and ferociously as his eyes across the way dissected me piece by piece. Until he said, "I made breakfast. You should eat before you go."

"It's okay... I'm not hungry."

"At least have a coffee."

"I'm fine."

"Water."

"I really should—"

"Should look after yourself?"

I hesitated. Torn between wanting to snap at him for the past and apologise for avoiding his peace offerings, I deliberated what to do. Though in the end, I decided the best avoidance of the entire situation was instead to demand, "Why was I naked?"

He flinched, eyes slowly widening at the seconds ticked on.

His face tinged a little with pink.

And I started to assume the worst.

No... we didn't... Think, Em... What happened when you got back... What happened when—

"How would I know?" he squawked.

"I... well... you took me here. You were sober."

"Do you think I undressed you?"

"I... I don't know! I don't remember."

"Well, I didn't."

And as he flustered at my accusations, the memory came back.

◁◁

My eyes were heavy as he led me into a barely lit room. He closed the curtains as I kicked off my shoes.

He mumbled something to me, something about the location of the bathroom, then exited the room, closing the door behind him.

But I was barely present anymore.

The adrenaline had exited my body.

The high from the alcohol had worn off.

And the bone-deep fatigue was quickly rolling in.

I fell against the bed, my eyes begging me to let the darkness take me under.

Yet as I wriggled into the sheets, the zippers of my clothes poked and prodded me all the wrong ways.

One at a time, I removed a layer. Twisting and turning in the bed, I tried to seek comfort, but there was always something sharp. Something hard, poking me, keeping me from the sleep I so desperately desired.

So I stripped down further, not stopping until all my clothes were on the ground and finally, finally, sleep came for me.

▷▷

"Right," I replied, my face engulfed by the flames now—so hot you could cook an egg on it. "Well... Sorry... and thank you. But I will take my—" I had turned towards his door, ready to bolt. But his words once again brought me to a halt.

"Please stay. Eat. I'd like to talk..."

Heaving a sigh, I turned back to face him. "I told you before and I'll tell you again. I don't want to talk."

"But—"

"It's over. And the willingness I had to talk to you about this has long passed. So please... drop it."

He was silent. And I had hoped that was the end.

Turning to the door again, I took it as my queue to go.

Until, "I don't buy it."

"You don't have to buy it," I said to the door.

"A part of you still isn't done with this. Still wants to actually discuss—"

"No." I faced him again. "None of me wants—"

"You drunk-called me. Subconsciously, you unblocked me and called me because you wanted to talk. Maybe the sound-minded you is putting up this facade about it all being in the past, but deep within you, you're haunted by the fact we haven't discussed this. So let's discuss it. Only then will this all be over like you want it to be."

My lips pressed together, and a part of me was already admitting he was right. Not that I was going to ever say that to him. "I'm sorry I called you. It was a mistake. But I don't want to talk to you. Me drunk-calling you was just me being still mad at you."

"Because you want to—"

"I don't. I'm sorry to drag you into my life again when I said we were done. It was a mistake. I won't do it again. Thank you for picking us up last night and keeping us safe... I promise I'll leave you alone from here on."

"But Em—" he started to say. Though I didn't let him get another word in. This time, I opened the door and walked away from him.