Lustful Hearts

"Right, that's it!" Elijah snapped. "You've been moping around for a month now since Manchester, and I can't take anymore!" He slammed his hand so fiercely against my desk I jumped in shock as the wood reverberated beneath his fingers.

He was right of course.

I hadn't been brilliant company. I just hoped I'd done a good job in hiding it well.

Obviously not.

The fake smiles and laughter I'd used as a mask hadn't been as foolproof as I thought. But now I realised it wasn't just affecting me. I was dragging others under with me, and I knew that wasn't fair.

I stood up to talk, to try to apologise, but my throat started to close. The month that passed had been long and dark. Every single second had been pure torture. I'd barely existed and that was no life at all, but i was hard to move on, to forget him, to actually begin to live again.

"I know a way to snap you out of it, there's a party tonight at Roxanne's house, and we are going." He glared when I opened my mouth to protest with a string of possible excuses.

His look shot me down. "Don't even think about coming up with an excuse. You are going. You need to dress up and drink, and forget about your broken heart for at least one night."

I groaned knowing it was futile to disagree. "Okay, I'm in," I said with a sigh. There was no point protesting, he'd just make me go anyway.

He smiled with delight. "Wow, I thought that was going to be harder, trying to drag you along. I'll be round at six to check your outfit. We are going all out, I want you in a dress, no jeans."

I frowned, I didn't want to wear a dress, and I was definitely not in the mood to flirt with anyone. I wanted to remain anonymous sipping on a drink, blending into the background. But I knew I owed Elijah this. He needed a night of fun after supporting me throughout the whole grief process. I had to be selfless and put his needs first, my own misery would take a back seat, if only for the night.

***

Elijah rang the bell at six sharp. I guess he really did mean business. I tottered almost comically down the stairs, going as fast as my heels would carry me. I decided it wasn't worth the berating I would receive if I'd gone ahead and worn my jeans.

I chose a simple floral summer dress I had bought weeks earlier. The weather was beginning to grow steadily warmer, so it was the perfect excuse to give it its first airing. It was another one of Elijah's finds. I'd grown accustomed to receiving random snapshots of items of clothes on my phone, seeking my approval before buying.

He looked me up and down with a smile and whistled his approval as his eyes lit up. "Damn, girl, you scrub up well," he remarked, licking his lips as he shot me a wink.

"I'll take that as a compliment, shall I?" I playfully slapped his chest chuckling. He always knew how to make me smile.

I'd already applied my makeup, disguising my death-like pallor into something almost human. Even managing to disguise the dark circles that had become a permanent fixture of late. For a short amount of time tonight, I'd forget my own heartbreak and enjoy reacquainting myself with my good friends, vodka and tequila.

As I was half way through curling my hair when the doorbell rang, I dragged Elijah back upstairs to let him finish my hair. He got more enjoyment from the actual process of getting ready rather than the actual party.

When my hair was curled and fixed with spray, I scrutinised it in the mirror. For the last month it had spent the majority of the time tied up in a tatty bun. It was hard to believe the silky, wavy locks was the same hair.

It deserved an outing to be treated better. I made an agreement in my head to take better care of it in the future. I already knew it would be back in the bun within twenty-four hours.

Elijah finished applying my eyelashes. I fluttered them in the mirror, feeling mesmerised. They added just the right amount of oomph to my eyes.

"Do you think I could get away with wearing some? As I really think they would open up my eyes." Elijah asked, holding some up against his lashes.

I stared at him in surprise.

Was he being serious?

"Please tell me you're joking?"

"What? You girls get to have all the fun, I think I would totally rock some amazing lashes." He grinned and batted his own. He really was too cute and adorable, but could he rock some eyelashes?

No. Just no.

I looked at him, trying to be diplomatic with my answer. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. "I don't think they'll go down well at the party. You don't want to lose your manly card sporting a pair of those."

An adorable smile swept over his face. "Sweetie, I think I traded that in a long time ago," he replied, giving me a cheeky wink. "Now we need to gloss and spritz and then we're on our way."

I chuckled as he glided the wand over my lips to make them extra glossy before spritzing me within an inch of my life.

"Perfect." He beamed with delight. "I got my Izzy back."

I watched the tears fill his eyes as we both faced the mirror. I turned around to face him, stroking his cheek. “Elijah-don't cry cause then I'll cry . . ." I laughed at the look of horror on his face when my own eyes began to fill up.

"Sweetie, you'd better not ruin that eye makeup." His hand cupped my face, quickly swiping away the stray tear.

I grabbed his hand, holding it in mine. "I just want to thank you... for you know." I couldn't continue, the words were stuck in my throat, but I needed for him to know. I couldn't have gotten through it all without him.

He pulled me close. "Shhh . . . I don't need thanks. I know it still hurts like hell, but you've got to come out of the darkness and start to live again." He pressed his lips against my forehead and when he drew back, I saw the sad look of concern in his eyes. I had been too wrapped up in my own selfish misery to realise how much it affected him.

"Thank you for not giving up on me." I truly meant it. He had been my one source of light throughout, without him I would have permanently been dragged under.

"Hey, best friends don't give up on each other. Now come on, if we don't leave this party drunk with sore feet, then we haven't had as good a time as I'm planning." "Well, then you may have to carry me home." I grabbed my clutch, slipping my arm through his.

"Sweetie, I'm planning on it."☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐