The Spot Where Stevie Would Sleep Killed Me Personally Its Fine - Blog Posts

salem nervously stepped inside and took a look around. something about the apartment felt like home. she remembered leon showing her pictures when they originally planned to be here together. the spot in the living area where stevie would sleep and the beautiful balcony they could sit on and work on music together. they should be here together but that was before she made a mess of things. "i know..." she responded quietly. he had a point and between the last time and now it was like deja vu. salem wasn't sure why she put put him through this a second time. she made her way over to the couch to sit after taking her shoes off. leon reemerged from the kitchen with a glass of water, he was quiet and she could tell he was visibly upset by her just showing up out of the blue and completely intoxicated. "thanks." she said with a small smile before taking a sip. "listen, i know i should have maybe called or texted you first but i didn't know if you'd pick up and i just really needed to see you." she looked down at the glass of water and zoned out for a bit unsure what to say next. there was no real explanation other than salem and her usual bullshit, that much she was aware of. "honestly i've been here for like a week now and i've been trying to figure out what to say to you but nothing really seemed right."

he's still shocked to see the woman he loves in front of him. she's trashed, that much is obvious, and he feels bad. "come in," he says with a sigh and a pinch of his nose. why does she keep doing this? first, after she ghosted him for a week, she showed up at one of his gigs, drunk. and now this? "shit's getting old, sal," the blond mutters under his breath, even though he doesn't really mean it. something about the uncertainty of their relationship, it makes him feel things more deeply. he hates her and then loves her and then hates her again. leon walks into the kitchen and pours a glass of water for her. what is he gonna do? he can't yell at her now, can he? he doesn't even want to do that. he doesn't know what he wants to do. everything's a mess and he wishes he could flash forward to the part of the relationship when everything's okay again. when he can hold her without the fear of her abandoning him again. the man doesn't notice the water overflowing from the glass and pouring onto his hand and the counter. "fuck," he whispers.