isn't it? [taylor swift]

chapter 43

Leia wasn't sure how long she had laid there, her limbs wrapped tightly into a ball as she sobbed until there was no more liquid left in her body.

The sun had long since set when Azul let himself into the apartment, his heavy footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. He called out Leia's name, concern etched in his deep voice, but received no response. 

Leia remained silent, curled up on her ground, her face buried in her arms. Maybe if she didn't answer, he'd go away. Maybe if she didn't answer, she could just pretend this never happened and fade out of existence. She heard Tate's nails clicking on the hardwood floor, no doubt leading Azul straight to her.

He found her curled up on the bedroom floor, her body wracked with silent sobs. The sight of her, so small and broken, made his heart clench. 

"Hey," he said softly, his voice laced with concern. "What's going on?"

She stirred at the sound of his voice, lifting her head just enough to meet his gaze. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her cheeks stained with dried tears. The usual spark in her eyes was gone, replaced by a dull, hollow look that spoke volumes about her emotional state.

Leia didn't respond to his words, her body trembling with the effort to hold back fresh tears. Azul's gaze swept the room, taking in the rumpled bedsheets, the discarded tissues, and finally landing on the nightstand. His sharp intake of breath told Leia he'd spotted the remnants of white powder.

"Oh, Leia," he breathed, disappointment and worry evident in his tone. "What have you done?"

"It doesn't matter," she croaked, her voice raw from crying. "Nothing matters anymore."

Azul knelt beside her, his large frame dwarfing her curled-up form. With gentle hands, he helped her sit up, leaning her against the bed for support. He took in the disheveled state of her clothes, the tangled mess of her hair, and the slight tremor in her hands.

"This isn't what's going to happen here," he said firmly, his eyes flicking to the nightstand. "That's the last time you're going to touch that shit. Do you understand me?"

The bedside lamp clicked on, bathing the room in a soft, amber glow that felt harsh against Leia's sensitive eyes.

"Look at me," Azul commanded, his voice firm but not unkind.

His jaw was clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he fought to control his emotions. Leia suddenly understood why others tended to give her a wide berth when they stepped too close to her on a red carpet, or why Dylan had been so quick to back down when Azul showed up.

In this light, he was truly fucking terrifying. He stood up, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. 

"I'm staying with you until you sober up," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And then we're going to talk about what happened."

Leia didn't respond, her gaze fixed on some distant point only she could see. Azul sighed, running a hand over his freshly cut hair. He moved around the room, opening windows to let in fresh air, gathering water and crackers from the kitchen. All the while, he kept a watchful eye on Leia, noting every tremor, every ragged breath.

The crushing weight of her emotions remained, but the chemical high faded, leaving her feeling hollow and wrung out. She became acutely aware of the gritty feeling in her eyes, the ache in her muscles from hours spent curled up on the floor... the haunted look in Azul's eyes as he sat on the lounger, his eyes never leaving hers and his hands never leaving the bottle of water in his hands.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" Leia whispered, her voice barely audible.

Azul's expression softened slightly. "Yeah, you did. But we're going to fix this."