16. truth

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TRUTH

—

Tariq's body was warm.

Throughout the night, any time Dmitri got cold, he would just move closer to Tariq, and his arm would instinctively wrap around him, yanking him even closer and providing him with warmth.

In fact, he was so incredibly warm that if Dmitri didn't know him, he would have been worried that he had a fever.

That was how the entire night went. Dmitri trying his best to keep himself warm under the blankets, and Tariq constantly switching between keeping his arm on Dmitri's body and off.

Time had gone by so fast that Dmitri didn't even realise that it was six in the morning, way earlier than he was used to waking up, but he couldn't sleep anymore.

His mind was racing with thoughts of Tariq, and how fucking pained he had looked that night, and how much he missed sleeping next to him and being able to fall asleep without overthinking, and how ridiculous it was that they were even in the same fucking bed, and that they had broken up for a fucking reason, multiple reasons, and everything.

The fact that they were just acting like everything was normal when it so obviously wasn't, was so fucking unbelievable to him.

"Dmitri," Tariq mumbled under his breath, groaning, his voice hoarse, cracking from just that one word. "Dmitri."

"Hm?"

Tariq groaned again, squinting slightly. "Gonna need you to fuck off now."

Huh?

"What?" he asked, trying his best to ignore the spike of shock that those words sent through his chest. "Uh— what the fuck does that mean?"

Tariq just shook his head, slowly sitting up in bed and hunching over, his eyeliner slightly smudged on his right eyelid. Then, he sighed, before saying, "Last night was a one-time thing, I already told you this," and adding a firm, "So if you could leave now, that would be great."

Always. Tariq always fucking did this.

It hurt every single time that he did it, though.

His apathy was always his biggest flaw, or rather, his pretence of apathy to cover up any other emotion he was feeling. It was one of the reasons for their relationship to crash, and it was the reason Dmitri was about to snap at him now, too.

"You're saying it like we fucked or something."

He didn't even crack a smile at that. He just said, "Can you please get the fuck out now? I called you in a moment of weakness, but I'm fine now, and I'm thinking clearly. Clearly enough to tell you to fuck off, because even though we were chill yesterday, we're not anymore."

There was no fucking way Dmitri was about to leave without letting Tariq know just how much of an asshole he was being. It just wasn't possible.

"So you can call me whenever the fuck you want, and I'm just supposed to show up?" he sneered, getting out of bed and grabbing his keys and his reading glasses from the table next to the hotel bed, shoving them into the pocket of his sweatpants. "Seems a little familiar."

Tariq scoffed, rolling his eyes as he hobbled out of bed— his muscles always got sore the next day—, wincing with each step. "You didn't have to show up. I asked you if you could, you said yes. I didn't force you to do shit."

Before Dmitri could say anything else, Tariq was snapping back again, his words fire burning Dmitri's skin, making its way right into the hole in his chest.

"But now, I'm forcing you to leave. Thanks for the help last night. Now, leave," Tariq mumbled, a slight limp to his walk as he disappeared into the bathroom, the door closing with a sharp click.

Why the fuck is he so mad?

The sharp pain in his chest only growing, Dmitri made his way back into his own room, placing his glasses on the table and crashing into bed, covering his entire body with his blanket.

It wasn't as warm as Tariq, nothing could be as warm as he was, but it was good enough for him. For now, at least.

—

When Dmitri woke up, it was past five.

A whole six hours past the time he was supposed to wake up.

He could vaguely remember waking up at around eight to take his meds, eat something, before going right back to sleep, but he wasn't entirely sure of that, either.

And while he wasn't always that big on punctuality, he was big on getting home in time to catch Eden before she met with Trinh for their spontaneous ass dinner date that she had texted him about.

I hope Juno's okay, he thought to himself as he busied himself with shoving his suit into his duffle bag, along with his pill box and a water bottle.

If Eden doesn't make sure to give Juno an extra kiss like I'd asked her to, I'm going to be so mad.

Finally, when Dmitri was done packing everything, he briefly scanned the room once more, before grabbing the room keys and leaving.

And running smack dab into Tariq.

Lord, help me. "What are you still—" Dmitri began, but he was interrupted by Tariq holding up a finger and pointing to his phone which was resting against shoulder, duffle bag slung on his other shoulder, his hands occupied with locking up his room.

Then, he dropped the keys.

"I can get it," Dmitri muttered, bending down and picking up the keys for him, their fingers just barely touching as he handed them to him. "How come you're—"

"Yeah, I'll figure out something else," Tariq said into the phone before Dmitri could continue. "I'll see you whenever I find a ride. Love you, Zo."

Does he not have a way to get back home? I could—

Turning around to face Dmitri, he just looked at him for a second, scanned him up and down, and said, "Before you say anything, no, I won't take you up on your offer to drive me home."

"So you'll just get another room to stay in? In another hotel? In LA?" He's so fucking annoying, Jesus.

For a moment, Tariq was quiet, and Dmitri could practically see the gears in his head turning, hear the possible options that Tariq was going through in his head.

Finally, he said, "I'm not mad at you for no reason, Dmitri." Sniffing softly, he continued, "I have a valid reason."

"Tell me your reason on the ride back."

Maybe he was being pushy. Annoying. But he wanted— no, needed to know why Tariq was constantly fucking snapping, why he used every fucking opportunity to bite back, because holy fuck, it was getting exhausting to try to figure it out by himself.

"I just don't understand why you—"

"On the ride back, please," Dmitri interrupted, earning an eye roll from Tariq. "I'm already late."

So, Tariq nodded, albeit hesitantly, and made his way to the elevator at the end of the hall, nearly pressing the button before he shook his head and headed in the direction of the stairs instead.

"What are you doing?" Dmitri asked, slowing down his walk to keep in step with Tariq. "Take the elevator."

"But— are you okay with taking the elevator?"

Dmitri laughed, turning around and walking back to the elevator. "You say it like I have some sort of fucking elevator trauma or something. I just don't like elevators, doesn't mean I can't ride in them," he stated, eyeing Tariq as he set his duffle bag down, rolling his shoulders back. "You good?"

Humming, Tariq just straightened out his back for a second, reaching the and a half inches that he always liked to add to his five foot six. "Sore," he mumbled, picking up his bag and stepping into the lift.

Oh. "Want me to carry your—"

"No."

Their two hour car ride was going to be an absolute disaster at this rate.

Once they reached the car, (Tariq had to stop twice just to switch his bag from his left shoulder to his right, and then back to his left again), Tariq got into the passenger's seat, letting out a sigh of relief as he sat down.

Dmitri didn't know which one was worse— seeing Tariq in pain, or seeing Tariq in pain after being in pain.

First one. Definitely the first one.

"Why are you mad at me?"

Exasperatedly rolling his eyes, Tariq took his phone out, plugging it into the aux cord and letting a song by Radiohead play, before saying, "Maybe you can start driving."

I'm going to scream, was the only thing that went through Dmitri's head as he began to drive, passing by the tall apartments, ones that were probably incredible to look at at night, and even taller office firms.

"I hate that you didn't tell me that I spilled about my ex," Tariq finally admitted, voice hard but soft, eyes flitting from Dmitri to his phone.

"Uh—"

Tariq interrupted him with a quick, "Let me finish." Pausing the music, he reached his hand back, slowly rubbing circles on his neck. "Okay. Okay. I really hate that you didn't tell me. I hate that bullshit in like— movies or whatever, where someone gets drunk and the other person just... doesn't say anything. Like, that's not okay at all, because I specifically asked you to tell me everything, and unless you were drunk, too, which you weren't, you were supposed to tell me everything.

"Because I wasn't in control of myself, I didn't know what the fuck was happening, and I definitely didn't know what the fuck I was saying. And like—" He paused for a second, chewing down on his lip, so hard that Dmitri was forced to say—

"You're hurting yourself."

"I don't know how to do the whole talking thing, give me a second," Tariq muttered in response, as if Dmitri didn't know that Tariq had a hard time communicating anything he was thinking, but at the same time, he always said what was on his mind.

I get why he was mad. I think. "So... You wanted me to tell you everything? Is that why you're this mad?" he asked, because there was nothing he wanted less than to piss him off some more.

"No, it's just that— I mean, yes, but..." Letting out a frustrated sigh, Tariq shook his head and said, "I asked you to tell me everything. And you didn't. You could have left me alone when I was drunk, and I wouldn't have told you anything. It just frustrates me so much that you agreed to stay with me, and then you just— didn't say anything."

It made sense. It definitely made sense.

Dmitri just didn't know what the fuck to say to that.

"I'm sorry," he got out, the warm air from outside rushing into the car all at once, his words getting lost in it. "I get it. I think. And I'm sorry."

Tariq sighed. "I wouldn't even have been mad. I mean, obviously, I didn't want you to know about it, but I wouldn't have been mad if you just told me. Why the fuck don't people just tell people things? What the fuck is the need to keep secrets and—" He stopped again, a small sound of realisation escaping his mouth. "Holy fucking shit, this is so fucking hypocritical of me."

"A little."

Nodding slowly, Tariq didn't say anything for a moment, his entire body language screaming I'm uncomfortable, right from his tense shoulders to his hand frozen on his phone, clutching it tight.

Eventually, he said, "It's easy to make jokes with you because you feel familiar, and familiarity is a warm feeling. But if we can't even talk about why we broke up, can't even go a week without jumping at each other's throats, I think I'd rather deal with the cold."

"Poetic."

A small smile broke on Tariq's lips, his tenseness reducing, only slightly. "Imagine if I went to college, then. I'd be unstoppable."

"College made me lose braincells, you made a good decision."

Tariq laughed at that, a soft one, but still, a laugh. "Tell that to my ex," he muttered under his breath, reaching up to push his hair out of his eyes. "Man thought that college made a person smart, when that's so fucking far from the truth. But then again, the motherfucker also cheated on me, so I'm not so sure I should be listening to anything he said."

What the fuck?

Dmitri stopped at that. His hands were still on the wheel of the car, and he was still driving, but his mind had gone completely blank, all sense of rationality leaving out the window.

"He cheated on you?"

"Fun times."

Shooting a quick glance at Tariq, Dmitri frowned at the sheer fucking indifference on his face. How the fuck is he— ?

"Don't need to look so shocked," Tariq drawled, voice relaxed despite his posture being stiff, uneasy. Definitely should have told him about his drunken shenanigans sooner. "I should've seen it coming, to be honest. He gave off cheater vibes, so that's on me."

Dmitri scoffed, a small twinge of anger building up in his chest. "Someone else cheating on you is never your fault."

Tariq just shrugged at that, fiddling with his phone case, a clear one with a small safety pin on it, one that Dmitri knew he had painted himself.

"I fucking hate that we have normal conversations, and then as soon as shit is going fine, we snap at each other again, because we literally don't know how to have normal conversations, and we left everything out there, and sometimes, I can't even fucking—"

"Then let's just talk about it." Oh my god.

Hands suddenly freezing on his phone, Tariq glanced in Dmitri's direction. "Like— actually talk about it?"

"Hm." I should stop. Holy fuck, I should stop, this isn't—

"Okay," Tariq agreed softly, glancing at him and nodding. "Okay. We'll talk about it."

—

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AN: this one is rly rough around the edges, i edited it at like 5am, so if u see any mistakes pls point them out !!

this goes without saying but 😋 thank u all for reading💞 i hope u all have a good rest of ur day today💓💓