esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma quirks a brow, the corner of her mouth twitching upward as she watches Aeris fumble for just the right words. It’s kind of endearing—seeing him tread carefully, like one wrong move might send the whole moment spiraling.

She lets the silence stretch for just a second longer than necessary, just to watch him squirm a little, before finally putting him out of his misery.

“Hm.” She tilts her head, as if actually considering it, though the amused glint in her eyes gives her away. “You know what? I think I would.”

Esma shifts, leaning in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to match the intimacy of the moment. “Come on,” She grins, standing to her feet. “You're right this place is fucking boring, I'll have way more fun at your place.” @aeris-flores

It is only when Esma parrots his question, and Aeris stops looking for the supposed 'who' in this scenario. He knows that the patrons of this bar are subpar at best, none catch his attention, except for-

"You," he concludes. All his curiosity is replaced with a satisfied smirk, and he really tries to keep it as subtle as he can. Aeris ultimately fails, and he leans toward Esma against the bar counter. "Would you maybe..."

Aeris starts slow, ever so cautious as to not ruin any chance he might have. He's still not one hundred percent on where he stands with Esma. "... like to come back to my place for another drink?"

@esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over her chest. "Right. So, what, you’re playing babysitter now?" Her tone was sharp, unimpressed. "Taking Zehra’s kid on little picnics and avoiding real conversations—sounds convenient."

She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Maybe you'll be good for her, who knows. I haven't had a real conversation with her in over 10 years and she was only a kid but she was...devious and kind of evil." @keremms

Kerem’s smile faltered slightly, “I mean, she’s told me some things,” he admitted, shaking his head. “But to be honest, we haven’t spent much time talking about other people… More so been focused on ourselves and where things are at. Plus sometimes we take Zehra’s baby out for picnics and stuff.”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to navigate the conversation without it all blowing up in his face. “Look, I’m not here to dig up drama or anything. I know no one’s perfect, including Ela… And definitely not me. But I’m trying to be there for her whatever she's been through. That’s all I care about.”

@esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

"It’s weird, right? Like, people move on, but you still expect to just… slip back in like nothing changed.” She let the thought hang for a second before exhaling through her nose. “First thing I did when I got back?” A knowing glint flickered in her eyes as she rested her chin on her hand. “I’d love to say something profound, but, uh… I went to the gas station for an energy drink and questionable snacks. Priorities." She chuckled, tapping her fingers against the table. “Then, you know, the whole awkward catching-up thing started and by catching up I literally mean just running into everyone.” @kennyxtamblyn

"Of course! We'll be like roommates. I'll have one side and you have the other, and we'll just share the table." Kenny laughed. "It kind of sucks, too, and it's hard to just pick up where you left off with people as well." Especially when some of those people are your exes. "What was the first thing you did when you came back to town? And thank you, I do love the pancakes here."

@esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma tilted her head, a slow, knowing smirk curving her lips as she tapped a manicured finger against her chin, pretending to consider his words. "Oh, Mason," she purred, leaning in just enough for her voice to drop into something almost conspiratorial. "Long-haul flights are cute and all, but I was thinking something a little more… exclusive."

She let the word hang between them for a second, watching the curiosity spark in his eyes before she continued, "See, commercial flights? They come with all these little inconveniences—nosy seatmates, crying babies, flight attendants giving you that look when you even think about misbehaving." Esma sighed dramatically, shaking her head as if the very idea exhausted her. "Now, a private jet? That’s a different story entirely."

She leaned back, her gaze flickering over him, as if assessing whether he could keep up. "No rules, no interruptions, and definitely no records left unbroken." Her smirk widened. "You should go home and pack a bag."

Mason’s eyes widened for a split second, then the smirk returned, his expression shifting from playful to one that suggested he wasn’t about to back down from the challenge. “International flights, huh?” he mused, his tone low and intrigued, like he was considering the possibilities. He leaned in just a bit, matching her mischievous energy, but then pulled back slightly, eyes scanning her face as if trying to gauge how serious she was. "I mean, I��ve been on a few long-haul flights, but nothing that would’ve made it into any sort of... exclusive club, if you know what I mean."

He let out a soft chuckle, his grin widening. “As for your ‘high standards,’ I’m up for the challenge, don’t worry. I think I can manage gourmet snacks, especially if the ‘college freshman during finals week’ bar is the only thing I need to clear. Although I’m gonna need a little more than just snacks to keep up with you at this rate.”

Then his gaze flickered back to hers, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he continued, “But I’ll admit, I’m a little curious. You really think you’re that good at ruining records?” He leaned back just slightly, his arms crossing with an almost playful defiance. “I might have to see that for myself. Only fair, right? If you’re gonna raise the stakes, I’ve gotta see if you can actually pull it off. Otherwise, I’ll have to keep my title as ‘record-holder’ intact.” Mason raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “So, tell me—what’s your next move, Esma? You’ve got me intrigued.”

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a sneer as she listened to Isla’s little monologue, her patience wearing razor-thin. The arrogance, the condescension, the sheer audacity—God, it was insufferable. But that last line? That was the final straw.

Before Isla could register what was happening, Esma’s palm met her cheek with a sharp, resounding smack. The crack of it echoed in the space between them, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"You talk too much," Esma muttered, voice low and seething. She barely gave Isla a second to react before her hand snapped out again—this time, knocking the phone from her perfectly manicured fingers. It hit the ground with a sickening crunch, the screen shattering into a web of broken glass.

Esma exhaled, rolling her shoulders back as if shaking off the heat coursing through her veins. "There," she said coolly, watching Isla’s expression shift. "Now you don’t have to hide behind your little screen anymore. Let’s see how tough you are without it. Now, get the fuck out of this bar before I make you." @itsisla-dubois

"go. away." isla sneered, though her eyes never left her screen. her own laugh passed her plump lips as esma continued to try and insult her. emphasis on try. "okay, few things there. one: I'm a natural blonde so I don't even see how that could be an insult? it's actually impressive how idiotic you can be. two: my god, could you be less original? three: you might want to come up with some insults that don't show how 'born before the year 2000' you are if you're trying to bank on looks to get you everywhere." steel colored eyes flicked up at her, taking her in for a solitary moment before moving back to her phone. "three, subsection a: consider botox for those crows feet too. need to make sure you're in tip-top shape if you are forgoing having a brain in that head. beauty fades. dumb is forever."

the anger she felt was coming to a boil, her clenched jaw indicating how much heat was forming inside her. "you are so fucking obsessed, it's not even funny!" her words came a little louder than she intended. finally, she pushed her phone to the side and made direct eye contact with the other woman. her gaze was lit with nothing but fury.

"what is it with you? you had a single taste of the dubois' and you're going to annoy me until you get back in? newsflash: henri never cared about you, you will never live our life, and you are nothing to any of us. got it?" her body leaned in slightly as she continued. "you. are. nothing. you always have been nothing and you'll always be nothing. can I make it any clearer?"

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma’s jaw clenched, her fingers curling at her sides as she took a step closer, her eyes burning with something dangerously close to fury. “You don’t get to say that,” she snapped, voice sharp, cutting. “You don’t get to stand there and act like you were the only one left in the wreckage, like I chose to walk away without a second thought. Do you even hear yourself?”

She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. “You talk about guilt like it’s some kind of badge of honor, like you waking up every day feeling bad about what you did somehow evens the score. But it doesn’t. You made the choices, Zehra. You did what you did, and I had to live with the fallout, too. So don’t stand here acting like I was the one who abandoned you.”

Esma’s breath was coming quicker now, her emotions spiraling past the point of control. “You would’ve listened?” she repeated, eyes flashing. “No, Zehra, you would’ve argued. You would’ve made excuses. You always did. You would've found some way to make it about how we were both suffering, how we both had something to lose, but the truth is, you had the power. And you chose.”

Her hands shook at her sides, but she didn’t back down, didn’t soften. “You say you’d still drop everything for me? That’s not devotion, Zehra. That’s just you trying to rewrite the past so you don’t have to sit with what you did.” She exhaled sharply, her voice dipping lower, raw with anger. “You don’t get to play the martyr. Not with me. Not after everything. We are done here.” @zchraa

Zehra’s fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails pressing into her palms as Esma’s words sank in. Her chest tightened, the weight of everything they had been, everything they had lost, threatening to crush her. “You think I don’t know that?” she shot back, her voice shaking. “You think I don’t wake up every damn day carrying the guilt of what we did? Of what I did?” Her breath hitched, but she refused to let herself break, not now.

She took a step forward, her gaze locking onto Esma’s, searching for something, anything, that wasn’t just anger or pain. “I wasn’t the only one who got hurt, but I was the one left behind. You got to walk away. You got to pretend it never happened, but I lived in it. I had to grieve you in silence, had to learn how to exist without you while knowing you were out there, choosing not to be in my life.” Zehra exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “And now you stand here telling me that I broke you? That you were the one who suffered the most?”

She let out a hollow laugh, more bitter than anything. “I would’ve listened, Esma. I would’ve done anything to make it right. But you never gave me that chance.” Zehra’s voice cracked. “You say you couldn’t lose yourself for me again, but what do you think I did for you? Every time we were together, I was tearing myself apart just to have you for those stolen moments.” She swallowed hard, not able to bring herself to look into Esma’s eyes. “And I’d still do it again, if you asked me to. That’s the fucked up part in all of this right?” She spat bitterly, shaking her head. “The most fucked up part in all of this is that I’d drop everything for you any time you wanted.”

@esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma’s gaze locked on a stunning necklace at the center of the display case, her breath catching just slightly. The centerpiece was an exquisite pink diamond—a rare, radiant blush hue set in a halo of smaller white diamonds that glimmered like starlight. The design was elegant but bold, a perfect blend of sophistication and extravagance.

“This one,” she said decisively, pointing at the necklace. Her tone was confident, almost daring, as she looked up at him. “Nothing subtle about it, but why should there be? If you’re going to spoil me, Axel, might as well make sure the world knows it.” She leaned in closer to the case, her fingers hovering just above the glass, as if touching it might disturb its perfection. “It’s timeless,” she added, tilting her head slightly. “Classic, extravagant, and impossible to ignore. Just like me, wouldn’t you say?” Sliding her hand into the crook of his arm, Esma glanced up at him with a sly smile. “Or do you think we should keep looking? Maybe there’s something with even bigger stones tucked away somewhere.” @axel-mathis

Axel tilted his head. "Well.. I like to keep my ladies guessing." He joked as he opened the door for her. Axel looked down at her through his sunglasses. "Well believe it sweetheart. I know I do." He smiled and gestured for her to go inside in front of him.

"Well.. probably better to start with the necklace so we know what to match the bracelet to, right?" He said, taking off his glasses and narrowing his eyes as he searched the room. Axel, even when trying to stay discreet, seemed to be an absolute fly trap for sales people. They always rushed him. "Here let's go over here before they can bother us." He gently grabbed her elbow and led her towards a glass case displaying necklaces.

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma smirked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tilted her head, her fingers lingering just a moment longer against Mason’s chest before she stepped back. “Oh, I’m definitely keeping you in check,” she said, her tone playful but laced with challenge. “You can bring all the snacks you want, as long as they meet my very high standards. Think gourmet… or at least something I can eat without feeling like a college freshman during finals week.”

Her smirk widened as he leaned in, his teasing tone sparking a mischievous glint in her eyes. She took a deliberate step closer, looking up at him with mock seriousness. “A road trip’s cute and all, Mason, but I’m thinking now I'm thinking about it, I'm thinking bigger—higher, even. How do you feel about international flights? Long ones.” She paused just long enough to let the curiosity in his expression settle before raising an eyebrow, her smirk turning downright wicked. “And while we’re on the topic of high standards… are you part of the mile high club, or do I have to ruin that record for you?” @masoncambridge

Mason chuckled softly, his smile staying warm but with a hint of playfulness returning to his eyes. "Veto power, huh? I can work with that," he said, feigning a dramatic sigh. "But hey, I promise I’ll bring something that’ll pass your inspection. No gummy worms or chips—unless, of course, you’re secretly a fan of both, in which case, you can keep me in check."

He raised an eyebrow at her sudden shift in focus, amused by the way her gaze sharpened. The moment her hands rested on his chest, he didn’t move, letting her take her time, though he couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through him at her touch. "A passport, huh?" he repeated, tilting his head slightly. "Funny you should ask. What are you planning, Esma? A spontaneous road trip to the nearest international border?"

He leaned in just a little closer, his voice lower now, still teasing but with a hint of curiosity. "Because, if you’re thinking of a getaway, I might just be convinced to join you. Just as long as there’s no halfway decent gas stations involved."

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma’s jaw tightened as Zehra’s words hit her, the weight of them igniting something raw and defensive inside her. She crossed her arms, a sharp edge cutting into her voice as she replied. “Do you think this is easy for me?” she snapped, her gaze hardening as she fought the swirl of emotions clawing at her chest. “You talk like I’m the only one who made mistakes, like I’m the villain here, but you—Zehra, you’re not blameless in this.” She took a step back, running a hand through her hair in frustration, her voice rising despite herself. “You’re sitting here telling me how heartbroken you are, how I hurt you, and maybe I did. Fine. But do you ever stop to think about how you made me feel?"

Esma's felt it wasn't all her fault and Zehra needed to take some responsibility here. “You want to know why I didn’t give you answers? Because you wouldn’t have listened anyway. Like you're not listening now. You broke me, Zehra. You think I didn’t think about us? About what we could’ve been? I did. For years, I did. But every time I thought about coming back, I remembered how much it hurt to be with you. And I couldn’t do it, Zehra. I couldn’t lose myself for you again.”

Esma’s voice dropped, the heat of her anger giving way to something colder, quieter. It had to be this way, Esma knew she couldn't just be friends with her. “So yeah, maybe I’m pushing you away now. Maybe it’s not fair. But you don’t get to sit there and act like you’re the only one who’s heartbroken. I’m doing what I have to do to survive, Zehra. It's not my fault I'm scared of loving you, that's your fault. And if that makes me the bad guy in your story, then so be it.” @zchraa

If Esma had of done anything differently in the moments leading up to now perhaps Zehra wouldn’t have been so hurt by her not wanting to see her again. Now all that was left was the fact that Zehra felt like she had been used, and that she was waiting for absolutely nothing to come to fruition, how was she supposed to understand when Esma never gave her any answers. Sleeping together had just been the icing on the fuck you cake, what was she meant to do when her world felt like it was crumbling?

“Esma, I thought I knew you better than I did, I thought we’d at least have a chance to talk, to get to know the us that we are now, but no… You just kept hurting me every chance you got, now this is like… The biggest way you could possibly hurt me.” She drew in a long shaky breath, not knowing how she could continue to explain.

“I just… I wanted you. I didn’t care what pain or flaws I would have had to work through, I was ready to lay everything on the line, to enjoy you, to continue to find a way where we could both work through anything and deal with the consequences and move through whatever pain and suffering we would both eventually get past…”

Zehra stared at Esma for a moment, she hated how beautiful she was because it reminded her that whatever happened there probably wasn’t going to be a resolution that made anyone happy. Esma would still have her guard up, and Zehra would still be heart broken.

“But I did, I thought about it for years, why you would leave me, why you would just let me deal with everything.” The bitter bile rose up in her and she swallowed it back down. Esma in this moment, pushing her away like this, after everything that had happened since she got back, it made her feel physically sick. “You know, after everything that happened, I was hoping we’d have the sense to at least try for each other when we were all we had.” 

She finally looked away, a hollow laugh breaking through. “Protect me? Esma if you wanted to protect me now you’d have to kill me, you don’t understand what it’s like waiting for years, we finally see each other again we fight, we find a level ground, we sleep together, and now… Now you’re basically telling me to fuck off? Esma, I’m not mad, I’m distraught, I’m heartbroken, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

@esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

On the corner of my bed Oh, and maybe on the beach You could do it on your own While you're lookin' at me

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in Mason’s tone. The softness in his voice caught her off guard, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure how to respond. She studied him, searching for the teasing glint she was used to, but all she found was that steady warmth in his eyes—a quiet reassurance that he meant every word.

Her lips quirked into a small, almost reluctant smile. “You know,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of her usual edge, “I didn’t really expect you to say yes so quickly. But I’m not complaining.”

She crossed her arms, leaning back slightly as she watched him, her gaze narrowing playfully. “Snacks, huh? Fine, but I get veto power. If you come back with nothing but gummy worms and chips, I’m making you stop at the first halfway decent gas station.” Esma let her hands rest on his chest for a small moment, her eyes narrowing as she thought. "Wait, do you have a passport?" @masoncambridge

Mason studied her for a moment, his teasing demeanor fading into something quieter, steadier. He could see the weight behind her words, the kind of heaviness that didn’t come from just a bad morning or a restless night. He shifted closer, his hands slipping into his jacket pockets as he tilted his head slightly. “Esma,” he said softly, his voice carrying none of the usual edge, “you don’t have to ask me twice.” He paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “No plans, no rules? Sounds like exactly what I need, too.”

Mason nodded, resolute now. “Alright, let’s do it. Just give me ten minutes to grab my bag and some snacks—because as much as I’m all for spontaneity, I’m not about to hit the road without snacks. Deal?” There was a flicker of warmth in his eyes, something grounding yet unspoken, as he added, “Wherever you need to go, I’m there.”

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma flinched at every word, her defenses crumbling under the weight of Zehra's pain. The bitterness in her ex-girlfriend’s voice was cutting, but what hurt more was the truth threading through every syllable. She wanted to say something, anything, to stop the hurt from spiraling further—but what could she possibly say to fix years of silence?

She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out at first. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, her nails pressing into her palms. Finally, after a long pause, Esma took a shaky breath, her voice low and strained.

“Zehra, I didn’t know what to say. I—I didn’t even know who I was back then, let alone how to explain it to you. I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away, giving you space to… I don’t know… move on. But I get it now. It wasn’t fair. It was selfish.” Her voice cracked on the last word, but she pushed through it.

“I didn’t abandon you because I didn’t care. I left because I was scared. Scared of messing up your life more than I already had. Scared that if I stayed, I’d drag you down with me. But you’re right—I should’ve called. I should’ve told you I was okay. I should’ve… I should’ve been better for you.”

Esma looked down at her feet, ashamed, before forcing herself to meet Zehra’s eyes. The sight of her, makeup smeared and heart laid bare, made Esma’s chest tighten. .

“You weren’t supposed to think anything, Zehra,” she said softly. “You weren’t supposed to hurt like this. I never wanted that for you. But I get it—I really do. I made my choices, and you had to deal with the fallout. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it. I just…” She faltered, the words catching in her throat. “I just want you to know that I did love you and I need you to know that I am doing this to protect you." @zchraa

Zhera felt every stinging word, every painfully sharp knife twist, and it cut her deeper than anything Esma would ever say to her. There was so much truth coming out now, but why in earth did it have to be in such a public setting? All Zehra had wanted was a friend, and now she didn’t even have that.

“You might not have wanted to hurt me then, but you sure as shit keep hurting me now.” She replied, her tone equally as upset and bitter. “I get not wanting to talk to me, I get not feeling enough of what I needed you to be. But what I don’t get, is not even a message to tell me you’re okay? I sat by my phone for hours after you left wondering if you’d gone and done the same thing he did, got into a car wreck… Something… But you…” 

Her words fell flat in her mouth, she couldn’t bring herself to say the rest, she sucked in a shuddering breath, her makeup had been ruined minutes ago, and now she was staring at Esma, she didn’t know this Esma now. “What am I supposed to think, Esma? For years I have assumed you just didn’t give a shit because you never replied to me, what conclusions could I draw? Of course I’ve assumed you didn’t give a shit, you gave me no other options.”

She shook her head, taking a steadying breath, wiping away whatever was left of her ruined makeup. “I’m not going to hit you, not again, I just need you to understand, since you left without word from you? Of course I made my own conclusions and drawn my own ideas about what happened to you, what else was I supposed to do? I loved you, and you abandoned me probably when I needed you most. So please tell me what I was supposed to think.”

@esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma chuckles softly, the playful glint in her eyes matching the challenge in his voice. She leans in slightly, her expression coy but knowing, as if she’s savoring the moment.

"Who?" she repeats, mirroring his question but with a smirk that borders on defiant. She takes a deliberate sip of her drink, letting the pause stretch just long enough to make him sweat.

"I mean, do you really need me to spell it out?" she says slowly, her voice just low enough that it feels like an invitation. "You know exactly who." She lets the silence stretch for a moment, watching his reaction. @aeris-flores

"You know what, I don't doubt it, and I also don't love the image that crossed my mind at the thought."

He slouches over the bar with a line furrowed in his brow at the idea. Aeris does slowly course correct with the added, "Not you, just the elderly and their supposed inventive ways and all that. I guess I get it, but ugh. Ew." Age. Not something Aeris loves thinking about. He's happily thirty-five, far from the age of settling into a retirement community.

His grimace instantly fades when they're back on a topic he prefers.

"Should I be offended you think I'm not? And for your information, I am the big leagues. Did I make myself tempting enough?"

At the end of it all, Aeris wouldn't take it personally. He also couldn't say that there hadn't been the continuous thought about it, and Aeris isn't the most honest person around. He'd lie through his teeth about it if it earned him any advantage in this game. He narrows his eyes in a challenge and presses, "Who?"

"Seriously, who else?"

@esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

"Deal, but only if we share the booth. I can’t have you taking all the good seats without me. Besides, I’m not above fighting for the last sip."

"Honestly, I get that. It’s like everything is the same but also not at all. Weird doesn’t even cover it. But hey, at least you’ve got good taste in places to hang out. We’ll make it feel normal again—booth by booth, sip by sip." @kennyxtamblyn

""As long as you don't drink them all and keep me from getting any, that's totally okay with me. We do need to come in more often. Maybe I could just move in... sleep in a booth."

"That perfectly describes me! That's why I love them and everyone else should too. Nothing new other than trying to get used to being back in town. It's weird to be back after being gone for so long."

@esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma crossed her arms, her jaw clenched tightly as she struggled to hold back the emotions swirling inside her. She couldn’t meet Zehra’s gaze fully, the weight of her words cutting deep, but there was anger too—anger at herself, and at Zehra for calling her out so harshly.

“Yeah, well, maybe I did want to hurt you,” she said bitterly, her voice sharp. “Maybe I was so fucking tired of being in something I wasn’t ready for. You think I didn’t care? You think I didn’t feel every single one of your fucking texts and calls? I did. I felt it all. But you don’t get it, Zehra. You don’t get what it’s like to be in my head. To be so goddamn messed up that you can’t even show up for yourself, let alone someone else.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head. “I didn’t want to be that person. I didn’t want to be the one to break you, but I couldn’t lie to you. I couldn’t pretend like I was what you needed. You think I didn’t care about what we had? That’s what fucking hurts, Zehra. You’re sitting there acting like I didn’t give a shit, but you have no idea what it cost me to walk away. It wasn’t easy. It still isn’t.”

Her gaze flicked to the spot on her cheek where Zehra had hit her, and she stood there for a moment, biting back a mix of anger and hurt.

“Fine,” she shot back, voice cold and defensive. “Hit me again if it makes you feel better. But I’m done apologizing. I’m done letting you think I’m some kind of villain. I walked away because I couldn’t handle it. Because I wasn’t strong enough to be the person you needed. But don’t act like I didn’t try. Don’t act like I didn’t give a damn.” @zchraa

There had been a time when they had meant so much to each other, where nothing was even close to hitting the euphoria that Esma brought her. She had tried to move on, clearly, she had a little girl to think about, and she couldn’t keep playing this game of will she won’t she with Esma, as much as it hurt her to say it.

“I’m starting to think you didn’t want to hurt us you just wanted to hurt me, so yes I do think you wanted to hurt me. I’ve been hurt enough, and it’s time I realized that no one is going to save me now unless I save myself.” It had taken awhile for her to come to this realization but now she had to stick through for herself and for her family.

Staring at Esma, the tears in her eyes, she wanted to reach out, to hold her, and to remind her that she is going to be okay, but her arms remained firmly at her side. That was a Zehra who didn’t love herself as much as she needed to, and she didn’t want to fall into this routine again. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left. That’s a long time to have someone in the back of your mind, to worry yourself sick, to remind yourself every day you look at your partner that Esma would never do this same thing to me… Guess I was wrong about that part, but you aren’t physical you’re emotional.”

“No, I don’t, and I’m sorry for fucking hitting you okay? Hit me back if it makes you feel better.” She paused, waiting to feel the sting in her cheek, waiting for something to happen.

“You didn’t ruin us. You just never fucking tried, Esma. After everything we had, after all the great times… You just chose that I was never going to be more than an occasional fuck and someone you want to talk to when you want to remember the good parts.” Tears streamed freely, staring back at Esma, her breath catching in her throat. “That’s the part that hurts the most you know? I waited for you to come back and every day you never got in contact I kept thinking something bad must have happened because Esma wouldn’t just abandon me… But you did and you never even TRIED.”

@esmaxdemirci

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma glanced at Mason, her eyes narrowing slightly at his teasing tone before softening into something more thoughtful. After she finished her smoke, She wrapped her arms around herself, warding off the chill, and tilted her head to look at him. “Guess I should be flattered you dragged yourself out of bed and braved bad coffee for me.” A small smile ghosted her lips before fading just as quickly.

She turned to face him fully, studying him for a moment, as if deciding whether to say what was on her mind. Finally, she spoke, her words laced with a mix of urgency and vulnerability.

“Come with me,” she said, her gaze locking onto his. “I need to just… get away from here for a a few days. Leave the regret-coffee and the cold mornings behind. I don’t know where we’ll go, but I can’t—” She hesitated, her voice catching before she took a steadying breath. “I just can’t stay here. Not today.”

Her expression was earnest, almost pleading. “What do you say? No plans, no rules, just… us and the road.” @masoncambridge

Mason shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his breath visible in the chill morning air. He slowed as he neared her, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

“Morning, Esma,” he said, his voice low and warm, though with a touch of teasing. “Didn’t realize I needed a reason to be up before noon.”

He leaned casually against the wall beside her, tilting his head slightly as he glanced her way. “But if you must know, the coffee at my place tastes like regret, and I figured I’d save myself by hitting the café. What about you? Brooding session, or is this just your usual brand of morning routine?”

[esmaxdemirci]

Esma's cheek burned where Zehra’s hand had struck, but the pain barely registered compared to the sting of her words. Her lips parted as if to respond, but for a moment, no sound came out. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her—not from the slap, but from the heartbreak in Zehra’s voice.

"Zehra..." Esma's voice trembled, her hands balled into fists at her sides, not out of anger but to keep herself steady. "Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I wanted to hurt you? I hate myself every damn day for the way things ended between us."

Her voice cracked as tears welled up in her eyes. "You think I don’t miss those nights? I do. I think about them all the time. About you. But I can’t - I couldn’t keep pretending we were okay, that I was okay. It wasn’t fair to you. I just... I didn’t know how to say it without breaking everything." Maybe if it was just that Esma could push through, but she knew Zehra wanted more.

She wiped at her face roughly, frustration mounting at her inability to make things right. "I’m sorry, okay? I’m so fucking sorry. But you hitting me, yelling at me—do you think it fixes anything? Do you think it makes me feel less like a piece of shit for hurting you? Because it doesn’t."

Her voice dropped to barely a whisper, raw and heavy with emotion. "I ruined us, Zehra. I know that. And I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for it." @zchraa

“I probably shouldn’t.” She was right; this could lead to no good path, and there was practically nothing left here for them now. It was hard for Zehra to let go though, she wanted her friend back, she wanted those same nights eating pizza and laughing at trash television. 

Esma’s words stopped her cold, ice ran through her veins, all the pain and longing, all the hoping things would be different. She wanted nothing more than to slap Esma after hearing what was coming from her mouth. “Fuck you, Esma.” She said, “Fuck you for making me love you, and fuck you for making me think that there was ever going to be something in future for us. You really fucked me and then two months later tell me we shouldn't see each other?”

Perhaps it was a little of the anger and liquor leading her words. What happened next was beyond her control, she reached up, her hand careening down on Esma’s cheek. "I hope one day you realize what a fucked up thing it is to do that to a person. All I want is to be your friend again, Esma."