Pause.

Can I just say one thing?

WINDSOR FUCKING SPITFIRES, BACK TO BACK MEMORIAL CUP CHAMPZ, DAMN STRAIGHT BITCHEZ, WINSORZ WHERE ITS AT. FAJKLJFBHNGM,F,GDF.

Oh and one more thing?
I started a new story, and the leading man in this one goes by the name of Jonathan Toews. Who, by the way, is winning the Stanley fucking Cup this year. Mark it down.

Check it out please? The more comments/followers I get on a story, the more productive I get. So it would mean the world to me if you read it.

http://www.wesaysummerx19.blogspot.com/

Peace and lovelovelove,
-Gabriella.

It's Like The Night Is Taking Sides // Twelve

After downing half of the bottle of whiskey, I finally felt the alcohol start to hit me, and I knew Taylor could feel it too. As we lay sprawled out on the floor of my bedroom, I felt Taylor's arm sneak around my waist, making me giggle. 

"Please tell my why you're pushing me away," Taylor slurred, kissing my stomach.

"Mickey." was all I said as tears welled up in my eyes. 

"He was my best friend," Taylor said rubbing his face, "I spent everyday with him, you don't think I feel bad? You don't think I miss him?"

"That's not what I said..." I trailed off and stared blankly at Taylor. 

"I miss him so much. Everyday." Taylor closed his eyes and sighed. "But I know that wherever he is right now, he wants us to be happy. He's our best friend, he wouldn't want us to be miserable all the time." 

"Taylor... he was my boyfriend." I said clenching his arm, "He meant the world to me."

"Dammit Jasey! He meant so much to me too, but you know what? You mean everything to me now. And if I have to fight for you everyday, I will." Taylor announced, turning to face me and giving me a prominent stare. "Jasey Rae, I love you."

At that moment, I knew my head wasn't only spinning from the alcohol. Taylor laid there, his big blue eyes waiting for my answer. My mind couldn't decide what to say, so I merely leant over and kissed Taylor softly on the lips. My breath hitched as he kissed me back, rougher, but still so delicately. He kissed my eyes closed, and I replied quietly,

"I'm pretty fucking sure I love you too."

Maybe I'll Sleep When I am Dead || Eleven

The guilt hit me hard as I watched the Windsor skyline come into view. The past couple of days had been... too perfect, and now reality was skinking in. I had sex with my dead boyfriend's best friend. I am an awful person. I let my head sink into my hands as I let out a sigh. Taylor turned his head and looked at me quizically.

"You alright, Jasey?" he asked, grabbing for my hand, which I pulled away quickly.
"Fine." I said bluntly, as we pulled into my driveway.
"Want me to come in for a bit?" Taylor said, giving me a quick smile.
"Actually, I'm pretty tired," I said as I felt the guilt hit me harder than a 300 ton truck, "I'm just going to head to bed. I'll give you a call sometime this week."
"Um." Taylor said, rubbing his neck letting out a strained look, "Okay then. Good night."

I half smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping out of the car and sprinting to the door. I unlocked the front door, hands shaking, I swung it closed behind me and crashed down to the ground. I was trembling viciously as I crawled over to the liquor cabinet to pull out a bottle of whiskey that hadn't been touched in weeks.

I sat cross-legged on my living room floor, and placed the taunting bottle in front of me. I narrowed my eyes at the bottle as I took out a pen and paper and began to write.

Letter #2.


Dear Mickey,


I thought I was saved. Really. I thought that everything had settled, I had finally managed to move on. Not the case. Everytime I come back home, all I think about is you. Emotions swarm me, and it makes me sick. I feel sick with myself. I did something awful, I think. Taylor's your best  friend. He's my best friend. He's only ever been a friend to me... until recently. I hate this guilt. I know I can't ever be with Taylor without feeling like I'm somehow dissing your memory. I feel like I shouldn't be moving on. I don't want to leave you behind. I love you way too much for that. I had sex with him. Can I be any worse? I'm so sorry. I just felt like for once... maybe I could be happy. And I guess I was happy. For a few days, I was happy. But then, I got back here, and all I feel is guilt. You're dead, and I'm happy? No. That's not right. 


I love you.
-Jasey.


I folded the letter into three parts, walked over to my bedroom and slid the letter in my desk with the other one. As soon as I collapsed on my bed, I heard a knock on the front door. I stared at the door miserably, daring it to open itself. It didn't. I groaned and went over to the door, swung it open to see Taylor leaning against the door frame, a concerned expression on his face.

"Taylor..." I started, but I couldn't finish as he pressed his lips down onto mine in a heart-stopping kiss. I felt myself cave as I crumbled into his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck. Mickey Mickey Mickey Mickey. I found the will power to pull away, and I looked down at my feet.

"You're gonna tell me what's going on." Taylor said, walking into my place, picking up the bottle of whiskey in the middle of my living room, staring at it questioningly, before shrugging and taking a huge swig and passing it to me.

It was going to be a long night.

Some One Come and Save My Life // Ten

I kicked my feet up on the dashboard and turned the radio up louder. I lowered my Spitfires baseball cap and turned to look at Taylor who winked at me and pressed his foot down harder on the gas pedal. We'd spent last night huddled up in the back seat of his car, with blankets and nothing but the summer night's air.  We talked hockey, school, and his plans after Windsor all night. Mickey got brought up, but only for a moment or two. As we sped off the exit to Yonge street in downtown Toronto,  I couldn't help but think that maybe things had turned around for me, and I wondered where Taylor could be taking me next.

Taylor parallel parked the car outside of the Hockey Hall of Fame and shot me a grin.

"No way!" I squealed and hopped out of the car, "I haven't been here since I was 8 years old!" I felt my smile grow as Taylor opened the large wooden doors for me.

We spent hours at the museum, and I stared in awe at just about everything I saw. Whether it was Gretzky's puck from his first goal, or Bobby Orr's stick from That Goal. I soaked in everything like a sponge, I read every little box of information and took my time analyzing everything. Taylor grabbed my hand tightly and led me up to the Vault, where the trophy of all trophies lay. I held breath as I entered the beautiful old bank that had been transformed into the Great Hall where Lord Stanley stood on his pedestal.

I felt tears well up in my eyes as I stared at the trophy. This was everything. I walked up and touched the side of the cup with starry eyes. Taylor came up behind me and placed a quick kiss on my cheek.

"Picture?" I heard one of the HHOF workers ask.

"For sure." Taylor responded walking over to the other side of the cup. We both leaned over a placed a quick kiss on the Cup as the flash went off.

Things are looking up,  I thought.