Miles pushes Alex away, rather reluctantly, his eyes bloodshot. Alex is almost afraid to breathe, his nerves making a comeback, and bobbing up on the surface.
"Miles, please. I'll try 'arder. I need this like most people 'ave the need to improve themselves. You don't understand."
"I'd like to think that I do, Alex. We can't keep up with this. It damages my sense of -"
"Frivolity." Alex interrupts, his face blank, except for the crinkle that brought on a frown.
Miles sighs, his hands raking through his auburn hair, his fingers trembling. "No, no, no. Alex, I-I love you. But, this petty affection is getting us nowhere. We're a pair of junkies, on temporary 'igh. It won't last. It's never lasted."
Alex clenches his fists, trying to avoid the urge of feeling Miles. To feel his familiar jaw; to feel Miles flinch, as he trails down his lower abdomen.
Many people thought that if you shut down the mind down completely, you'd be faced by a glaring, gaping void. But, what they didn't know, was that the mind was the void. Every one else was just a muse. A puppet on a string. Worthless.
Alex tells himself this, even if he doesn't believe it; like a classic Englishman.
"We're junkies." Alex repeats, scoffing. Miles looks up, unaware of anything, and everything. He didn't know that Alex's world had slowed down, a few minutes ago, and that Miles's sentences were playing on repeat, driving him crazy.
"See, Miles, I don't really quite understand, on my turn, where you're goin' wiv' this. D'ya wanna break up, or summat? Let's stick to the bold facts, and excuse pathetic metaphors, and contradictions, shall we?" He smiles, leaning on the doorframe.
Miles shakes his head, hopelessly; despairingly.
"It's too much to 'andle."
A hole begins to etch its gradual way into Alex Turner's heart. Almost as if all his feelings were being consumed by them fookin' termites. Apathetic. That was the word. He felt himself freeze, to deconstruct, to demolish.
"I feel ya'." A tear slides down his cheek, and he curses, looking away sharply.
Miles doesn't notice, because he's too busy pouring himself a straight whiskey, on the rocks.
"Alex, I've always loved you. I think, that even if I 'adn't wanted to, I'd still be attracted to you, like the wrong ends on a magnet. You were everything to me. Still are. But, sometimes, you've got to step away from them 'everythings', right?"
"Being around you makes me suffocate. The love I 'ave for you, is impossible to explain. You're like despondency, and hope, all at once. Jesus, I love you."
Alex flinches, the tension clear. "Is that a bad thing?" He licks his lips slowly, almost afraid to hear the rest of the answer.
Miles shuts his eyes, and puts down his glass, his stagger a bit wobbly, as he walks over. Miles cups Alex's face, his calloused hands, and stares into the same cloudy eyes that were normally bright. He hated making Alex unhappy.
"Alex. Alex! You're nought' listenin' to me, are ya'? You won't pay attention. Just keep on pinpointing the negatives. What will it take for you to understand?"
"Oh, I understand, alreyt." Alex chortles bitterly, still looking away. Miles softens, his exhaustion visible.
"Make this easier for me. For us." He croons, a finger trailing down the Englishman's ear. Alex lets a frown spill out, swallowing back hurtful words.
"Make this easier? We arn't pleyin' ya fookin' darts, alreyt? It's not a game to me. You're talkin' about me makin' you suffocate. D'ya 'ave any idea what that conveys to me? I am poisin. I am venom . I make you suffocate." Alex chokes, sitting down and putting his face in his hands, muttering to himself. It was along the lines of 'Pathetic. I am pathetic.'
Miles exhales, his eyes widening. He takes a step back. Or maybe two. He creates a distance between them, his heart racing.
"Keep it ta ya'self, alreyt? Don't wanna hear it. Don't care for the logic, mooch. Let me be. Stay away from me, Miles. Stay away. I'm not your fresh air. I am nuclear. I make you SUFFOCATE." Alex raises his voice, his eyes red, chewing on his lower lip. He holds up a finger, slinging his navy jacket over his shoulder, letting a tear or two escape.
Without permission, his face became wet. He thought he had learnt how not to be upset.
"Alex, no." Miles pleads. Funny how the tables were turned. Men like Alex, could inflict that. Inflict emotions that you thought you had long since erased.
"Jost'. One thing, Mil. What 'appened? 'ow did I not notice your clear distress? Why did I think that everythin' was comin' along smoothly, the way it was for me?" Alex trails, lost in his own thought.
He stares outside the window; the towering buildings of London; the hollowed aquamarine sky, with the dispersing clouds.
His voice drops below a whisper. A mist of words, that probably escaped before they were possibly heard. "Why did I let everythin' fall apart? Jost' like it always does?"
Alex lets his thoughts clutter, before carefully, slowly taking another step towards the door.
"Don't you dare. Don't you fookin' dare open that door, and close it on everything we had, labeling it as unsolvable. If you leave, Alex. If you leave." Miles's voice shakes. It wobbles. Like a vase before it fell and shattered completely.
"Listen me out. This is what I was talkin' about. You blame everythin' on yourself. Did you stop, and think for a sec, about me faults?"
Alex turns, ever so gradually. He stares at Miles. Lets his gaze trail down the man with the crooked frown.
"You 'ave no faults, Mil."
Miles scoffs, pacing around the room, his hands shaking behind his back, colliding with some object in the area, every odd moment.
"I'd love to 'ear that if it was true. What bullshit. We all 'ave faults. As do you, Alex. You very well know that I 'ate that kind of Bandaid effect, just like you. I wouldn't give ya that bullshit. Why pass it back to me?"
"Perhaps, I'm not who you thought I wos', Miles." Alex lets his words sink in, before walking the light steps to the door, shivering visibly. Did someone turn down the room temperature?
Miles sits down, unclear.
"Miles." Alex acknowledges, stopping, and waiting for his love to speak. Miles's lips form a sentence he's so not ready to say, yet.
"I want you."
Miles widens his eyes, bedazzled by his own blunder.
"Wot' the fuck, Miles? One minute ya' want to break up wiv' me, and now ya' want me in yer' bed? Are you even listening to yourself?" Turner grunts, his voice restrained. He runs a hand through his messy hair, a habit that introduced uneasiness.
Miles turns red. "I mean. No. I don't. I mean, of course, I do. I always do. You're the state of absolute arousal. I just didn't mean to say 'at, exactly, tha' knows?" He groans in frustration, rubbing his nape.
"I never said I wanted to break up wif' you, love. I would never. D'ya know something, Alex? I am completely infatuated with you. With yer' movements, yer' drawls, the way you pronounce certain words. 'ow you laugh when someone mentions you swingin' your hips, like a mating animal. Breaking up wif' you, would be losing everything I could ever gain. And, call me selfish, but I want to lavish in this all, just a while longer, don't ya' fink'?" Miles starts, slowly, letting the space between an inhale, and an exhale, sink in.
Alex lets his hand drop from the doorknob, and loosens his tie. One with fookin' reindeers, and Christmas sleighs, on it. What could he say? It matched his long, green coat.
"B-but, I'm -"
"That's what I was sayin'. I needed a break. We need a break. I see that despair on your face, when we'll be out together. Truf' is, you're exhausted. You can't keep up wif' it all. As am I. We spend the outlines of a whole day, together. That's a bit too much, don't you fink'?"
Alex feels himself fall in love with Miles Kane, all over again. That was true. Accurate. To the very last detail. He lets the fact lift from the air; a weight off his shoulders. The excitement; the snogging behind stages; the complaints of bandmates; the aroused hissing in each other's ears, breath tickling their earlobes; the longing grinding on slinky dancefloors. It was everything to him.
But, he needed a break. And, realising that, made him feel all sorts of things.
He slides into the seat next to Miles, a soft smile over his features. "You really think?"
Miles looks up, desperate concern etched on all body movements. "Want to bet on it?"
Alex laughs. His smile crinkles his eyes, and he squeezes Miles's hand, softly. "Okay, love. We can do some distance. Why not? Let's be normal."
Miles brings Alex's hand closer to his lips, and kisses the weary hand, lovingly. "No such thing as 'normal', darl'."
They smile like absolute fools. Love-struck men, in adoreship of everything they do. Alex doesn't respond. Instead, he brings his lips to Miles's, a kiss full of longing, and yearning desire. Their mouths burn with suppressed lust; pining; ache.
They felt each other. And, just like always, and all other times to come, it was merely electric.