"bug?" uncle darrel had asked when i'd simmered down from my breakdown, his arm around my shoulder as i cried into his chest. my hands tightening around his shirt, my breath lodged in my throat, and my head swimming.

maybe i'd drank too much and maybe i was being pathetic but i didn't care.

hushed whispers drowned out by the sounds of rain falling frantically on the windows matching the tears rolling down my cheeks, "shh... it's okay. you're okay, i got you."

"i'm such a fucking mess. he left me, dare and i'm turning into a fucking mess."

i felt him pull me away, holding me at an arm's length as i tried to hold myself together. i wouldn't in a million years cry over a guy but this was different.

he wasn't just any guy, he was miles.

"his loss. you're a great girl even though you smell like a liquor store."

i couldn't find it in me to smile.

miles had needed me once and feeling needed, as selfish as it may be, feeling needed is something that i needed.

--

a/n:

updates happen nearly everyday and i find it rude to suggest that since they're not that long, i should update more frequently. stories take fricking time and it's hard enough to think of ways to incorporate this into a sequel without making it feel unnecessary; writing sequels are hard, writing stories are hard. i can't just push a story out of my asscrack whenever you wish so please don't suggest that i do.

i am a human being not a fricking machine.

to be honest, it makes me want to update less and it's frustrating that you don't appreciate that.

i have a strong urge to just say fuck it and not write because of the fact that i have school, homework, work, friends, and family and on top of that my readers are getting pissy with me because i don't update three times a fricking day.

chill out.