I stood behind the counter, grabbing a glass while Caleb sat across from me.

Last night I dropped Indie home. When we walked out to our table, of course, we got a lot of stares considering she was on my back. But she didn't care and neither did I. I paid for both our halves and then dropped her at her apartment.

Now, the next night, I'm at my apartment with nothing to do. I spent the entire day just lying around either in my room or on my couch and only left to walk Whiskey.

Caleb came over tonight to hang out but since he got here we haven't done any hanging out. We've just sat in silence, he was too hesitant to ask me something and I was too miserable to tell him anything. "Reece."

"Hmm?"

"Why aren't you dating her?" he asked, frowning at me in confusion.

I grabbed the whiskey bottle and popped it open, pouring a little bit for myself in one glass and some for him. "Because I'd destroy her."

"She'd be into that," he scoffed.

I threw the cork at him, glaring. "I'm not kidding."

He sighed, drumming his fingers on the counter while I slid his glass over to him. "But you like her, don't you?"

I shrugged in response.

"Nah," he said, sipping his drink. I looked at him, downing my drink in one go. "No, you don't like her." I refilled my glass. "You love her."

My eyes snapped up, meeting his own. "What?"

He chuckled, looking away while his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. He looked back at me. "It's okay to admit it to me. I won't tell anyone, not even Chloe. You do, right? Plus, if you can't tell me then who can you tell? You do... right?"

I stared at my glass. "Right," I whispered into the air. "I do."

He groaned, "Then what is the goddamn problem?"

I sighed, staring at him. "Just because I love her doesn't mean I'm good for her. I'm horrible, both to her and for her."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "You are amazing to her! Do you know why she likes you, Reece? She knows you're bad for her, but you're like heroin walking around. That's how she sees you."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Is that your metaphor or Chloe's?"

"Chloe's," he shrugged. "But it's true! She's all in for you. Head over heels."

I huffed, "Well, she should snap out of it. I'll hurt her."

He shrugged, "You already are. So what's the difference, huh?" He stood up, grabbing his jacket and keys. "I'm going to see Chloe. We have a date." He downed his drink and then slid the glass back to me. "Bye."

I watched the door shut behind him before I plopped down on the couch, looking at Whiskey. "Just you and me then? Or are you ditching too?" I scoffed.

He climbed into my lap and fell asleep.

"Just you and me then," I whispered, staring at the blank TV screen in front of me.

I feel like a fool. Before getting involved with her, I thought I had my shit under control. I was so sure that I would never fall in love with any girl, never feel this kind of longing that I feel for her. I thought I would never love any girl but I feel like I love her enough where I would watch the world burn just for her. I'd burn it for her too. But doesn't that mean I would burn her too? You can't play with fire and not get burned.

My phone rang and I answered it since it was Caleb. "Listen up."

"What?" I asked, throwing my head back.

"I'll sleepover tonight, is that fine?"

"Why?"

"You're losing your mind, I don't think you should be alone."

"I'm not going to do anything stupid, Caleb."

"No, I know. But you could use some company. I'll come back after the date, okay? We'll hang out, sound good?"

"Yeah, whatever. Bye."

"Bye." He hung up.

I dropped my phone on the couch, watching it slip between the cushions and disappear under the couch. I thought I had everything mapped out and under control, I thought I was a logical, wise guy. But Indigo Bloom Easton really made a fool out of me. And she did it without even trying to.

I don't know what to do, I really have no idea. I'm absolutely clueless. A part of me, a rather large part of me, just wants to say fuck it and admit to her that I love her. That I want to be with her, that I never want to let her go. But I know I'll have to warn her too. Warn her that I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing. That she might have to tell me right from wrong, what she's comfortable with and what she hates.

I was so used to flirting with every girl until her that I don't know what I'm supposed to do if I have a girlfriend. I want to commit to her. But my gut tells me that once I commit, I'm all in. I won't let her go, even if she asks. That's something I'll have to work on, otherwise, I could potentially ruin everything. The second part of me thinks I should leave her alone for good. That she's much better off without me, that being with me could also potentially ruin everything.

But should I potentially ruin everything after trying and fucking it all up, or should I potentially ruin everything by just saying no?

Whiskey moved off my lap and lay down on the couch, sleeping on his own now. I stood up and poured myself another glass. Today was our last day of classes. It might have been the last time I saw her until the new academic year.

She flies to Hawaii soon and if I don't make up my mind before that or track her down in Hawaii and crash her vacation, I might just lose her forever.

Two hours later, it was a little past midnight and I was completely wasted. It's rare for me to drink so much to the point where I'm wasted, but tonight felt like a good time to do that. I could hear my phone ringing from between the couch cushions but I couldn't be bothered to answer it. I groaned and stood up, stumbling on my feet. Whiskey lifted his head, watching me.

"Whiskey," I slurred in a sing-song voice. I picked him up, holding him up in the air, watching him. He paddled a little in the air and then stopped, staring back at me. I brought him down, smothering him with kisses before setting him back on the couch. "I'll be back." I pointed a finger at him, grabbing the nearly empty whiskey bottle and heading out.

He barked in protest.

"Mm-mm," I shook my head, turning to him. "Be good while I'm gone, okay?" I laughed.

He barked again and again but I tuned it out and unlocked the door, stepping out and closing it behind me. I walked to the elevator and I don't think I'm walking straight. I think I'm walking in a zig-zag, considering that sometimes the elevator is a little to the right and sometimes to the left. I made it there, nearly falling, and pressed the button to go up. It dinged open and because I was leaning on the door, I fell inside and sat down. I whined, closing my eyes and just sitting there. I hit the button to the rooftop and remained seated until the elevator opened.

I grabbed the railing of the staircase and climbed the three steps before pushing the rooftop gate open. We're not meant to be here. It's not allowed unless you have permission and security comes to lock it every night.

I drank straight from the bottle and walked to the edge of the building. I set the bottle down on the edge and looked down. "Whoa!" I yelled, staring at the view before me, wide-eyed.

The city lights looked beautiful. Not as beautiful as her though. She even looks beautiful when she's sleeping. Even when she's crying. Especially when she's moaning. Moaning my name.

"Wow," I gasped, looking down at all the cars driving by, the headlights glowing white and red. I grabbed my bottle and drank some more, staring at the view before me.

I'm sure, a thousand percent sure, that at some point I started singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and then the alphabet. Maybe not in that order though. Maybe I sang the alphabet first. "They sound the fucking same," I mumbled, closing my eyes and putting my head down.

I heard the sound of an airplane and looked up, seeing one fly over our building. I gasped again, staring at it with the twinkle of a child in my eyes. "Wowie! Whoa!" I laughed, putting my hand up and pinching my fingers together as if I were holding the plane between my thumb and forefinger. "Indigo!" I sang in a soft hum. "Indigo!" I said a little louder. "Indigo!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

I finished the bottle and set it on the floor before grabbing the edge and climbing on top of it. I sat on it, one leg on this side and one leg dangling off the building. I moved back, hitting the wall and leaning against it. I looked down, thinking about how easily I could fall to my death. But then I looked up and saw a few stars. Only a few, since this is New York City, after all. But the few were enough. So I started counting them.

"One... two... three... four... eleven." I frowned. "Eleven, no. One... two... three... four..."

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