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homeofatlas · 7 months ago

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Maybe We're Both Chasing Ghosts

Summary: You and Elisa break up and long for each other.

Auhors note: yall i know i said i was gonna write the other one first..........im so sorry, hope ur in the mood for some angst tho

WC: 2k

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Letting go has never been easy for you. You never learned how to give up, concede, or when it was time to let something go. Especially when someone is the love of your life.

You’re going crazy. Plain and simple you’ve started seeing things. The side table lamp Elisa always used to have on in the living room when she was up late is on when it’s just you in the apartment, her figure walking around the corner, the smell of her as you walk past the door to the balcony. Everything you do reminds you of when she was here. Everywhere you go there's a woman with the same colour hair or skin tone and there’s a colleague who’s expression reminds you of the way Elisas brows furrowed when she was confused. It all makes your stomach hurt to look at and yet you never look away. You’ll hurt as long as you get a chance to see a part her again.

You know Elisa was doing what she thought was best for both of you. The constant near misses with communication. How far apart you always felt even when you were right next to each other. The stretches you’d go without talking and when you did it felt forced and stilted. Nothing like the beginning when the silence had been because you both were quieter people and enjoyed simply basking in each other's presence. There were times when it had felt like you almost had what you used to have back before it would slip away again. The silences which would drag out seconds too long.

Maybe it started when you felt like you were overwhelming her, maybe it started when she stopped looking for you first in a crowded room, maybe it was over the second you were finally comfortable. It seems to be a running theme in your life, “Nothing gold can ever stay.” What you won’t admit to as a non religious person is the day before she told you it was for the better to walk away, you asked the moon to keep her. I’ll do anything, just let me keep her. You pleaded and yet no one listened.

She’s your best friend even though you haven't spoken in months. Three months, two weeks and four days if you were counting. She knows you inside and out, from the food you don’t like to how you appreciate actions more than words. What gets you is the way she knew everything about you and you knew everything about her and none of it was enough to prevent this.

As the winter months begin to creep in and the wind nips at your cheeks again you feel the weight of her absence more than ever. You never realised you’d become conditioned to having an arm slung around your shoulder until the first time you shivered in a group of friends and a weight hadn’t overcome you to pull you into her side. When you’d been cold and no one had grabbed your hands to warm them up and kissed either side of your cheeks to make you smile and blush. Something in you had felt incomplete without nagging Elisa to put on an extra sweater as you went out because it’ll be cold and you are only human no matter what you say about being super hot Elisa. The way you’d looked up the hall to see whether or not she was coming and then remembered no one was there and there hadn’t been for a while.

Her ghost hangs heavy in the side of the couch she always used to lay on with the pillow she liked and in the weight of the pan she used to cook almost every meal (the handle feels different like it’s been melded to her hand exactly). Since she left you’ve been missing a part of you. Date your best friend, they say, it’ll be amazing. It was, you wouldn’t give a second of it for anything but this type of pain makes you understand why they call it heartbreak. You feel as though you’ve been split in two and are missing a limb. You’d never been a child who’d cried for their parents and when you’d moved to Europe for schooling you’d never looked back but now at 26 you were learning what it felt like to be home sick.

Elisa pov:

She’d fucked up. She didn’t know loneliness could be so all encompassing. She’s tried to fill her days with training and exercise and then going out with friends and calling her family “just because she wants to talk.” All of it is to keep her from stopping and thinking about you. The way she’s become less of a whole while still being one person. Half of her is missing. She can’t explain it without sounding like she’s co dependant but she couldn’t tell where she ended and you began.

Something is missing.

Scratch that.

Everything is missing.

A part of her is empty.

And she knows she’s got no one to blame but herself. Instead of talking to you, she’d decided the connection you’d had was too good to be true. Of course it was, how can something so romantic exist in real life? It doesn’t. Except it does, the little voice in her heart whispers, you had it. She’d seen it, she’d felt it, she’d tasted it. Had it in the palm of her hand and let it slip away.

The ache is eating away at her. A dull pulsing in her head constantly, she keeps herself exhausted to the point of falling straight into bed when she gets back to her apartment. It’s hard to call it home anymore without your perfume lingering in the air anymore. Your chapsticks stashed in various drawers through the apartment are gone. All the lights are off when she comes back. The place is empty. She’s empty.

She’d taken down all the photos and traces of you left around and put them in a box hoping it would help her heal faster. All it does is test her willpower to not empty the tubes of chapstick trying to touch something your lips have been on. No matter what she does, the quiet keeps creeping in. She can’t outrun the itch beneath her skin. The ache in her bones that never seems to fade. The feeling in her gut screaming something isn’t right. The quiet used to be her sanctuary now it’s suffocating without you to smile at her from across a room or squeeze her shoulder as you pass by.

She simultaneously feels invisible and like she sticks out like a sore thumb in every room she’s in. She’s not meant to be there. She’s meant to be next to you. But now you’re standing on the other side of the change room laughing at a joke she hasn’t heard, hasn’t told and something in her is coiling. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen when it snaps.

Jackie is helping you put your necklace back on and it shouldn’t bug her but it does. She’s hot and this room is too small. She knows it’s not like that but when Jackie brushes your hair to one side, a tad unnecessary if she gets a say, she has to tear her gaze away. Putting your necklaces back on after practice used to be her job. The small moment of quiet intimacy is what she’d wait all day for. When it felt like nothing else in your relationship was working, she’d always had that at the end of the day. Her fingers brushing the nape of your neck, the brush of your hair to your side, a smile creeping onto her face. If no one else was in the room she’d kiss the back of your neck and wrap her arms around you from behind. You’d stand there basking in each other's presence until you were ready to let go.

She’s fuming someone has taken her place, although not really and if someone has taken her place as your partner, her stomachs turns and she might be sick at the thought. A small voice calls out within her, be gentle with her.

She needs to get out of here asap. She’ll call her mom on the drive home, then go for a run, then pick up groceries when she gets back, she should really call her brother soon and see what he’s been working on lately, maybe there's a game on tonight she can catch- anything to keep her from thinking about you and this and how she’s fucked up.

Cause here’s the thing, even when you’d stopped texting her when you got home and when slowly less and less clothes of yours were appearing in her laundry, you’d never stopped being in sync on the pitch. Always anticipating the others' moves before she did it herself. It was infuriating to know you almost had it all. That’s what happens when you know everything about a person, every habit, every movement, she knows she could pick you out of a room of people just by how you breathe.

By the time she gets home from her post practice run she’s too tired to make dinner. She’ll order it in, making a deal with herself that she’ll walk to go pick it up. One of the things that most endeared her to you in the beginning was the willingness to break your nutrition plans laid out by the staff. Technically you were allowed to eat what you wanted but some foods were heavily discouraged. Such as pasta with a ton of carbs and no vegetables, which happened to be your favourite meal.

Slipping her shoes on and beginning the walk down to the italian place you loved to have date nights in she remembers all the times you'd made the walk together. She tries to not think about you and keep herself busy. The key word is tries because about 95% of the time she fails at it. A part of her hopes she’ll walk in to pick up her order and you’ll be there too. Hearts, stomachs, and feet falling in sync together once more. Please, she turns her eyes upward, let me get what I want this once.

Despite her quick checks around the restaurant and toward the bathroom and her dragging out the process longer than she needs to just in case you showed up, she resigns herself to a life of loneliness. Lost her thoughts she pulls the door open as someone pushes in and they stumble into her.

“Oh my god i’m so sorry-”

Your eyes turn upwards and meet hers. You both suck in sharp breaths chests in sync as they push against each other. Your eyes lock and the tension is almost unbearable but pretending like you don’t know each other is the most unbearable thing that could happen. Her hand, which came up to stabilise you, rests on your arm. Her thumb twitches to flick up and rub soothing circles right below your bicep.

If she gets a second chance she’s thinking now might be the time to act on it. She lets herself relax and smile at you, she can instantly feel the sigh of relief.

“Pretty sure this isn’t on your diet plan” She teases.

You smile challengingly up at her, “Pretty sure it isn’t on yours either.”

Your smiles are growing bigger by the second.

“Well,” She whispers and leans closer to you, dropping her voice to an octave where she knows only you’ll be able to hear her. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

She knows what speaking low in a crowded room does to you, it’s no surprise when she feels you shiver against her. She wraps her hand around her bicep now, rubbing your arm up and down as if she’s heating you up, all an excuse to touch you again.

You lean in conspiratorially, “Okay your secrets safe with me.” Nodding to sell the act.

You both stand and stare because what are the chances? Maybe, you both think, I don't have to keep chasing your ghost.

#élisa de almeida #woso #elisa de almeida x reader #elisa de almeida #woso x reader #yall the others ones in progress #crossing my fingers i can finish it for next week

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