#soooo weak from me plesae dont read it!!

[erasinglines]

at the end of this, it’s hard not to feel gutted; hollowed out and empty, as if he’s been turned from the inside out, raw and waiting for all to see. can’t deny that the verity they’ve been relaying has been draining, but it’s been a long time coming, he thinks— no longer speaking in codes around each other, each communicating in a language the other didn’t speak. they’ve always been on the same page, able to understand that most intricate parts of each other, pieces of him that’s gathered cobwebs, locked away in the deepest corners of his mind. from so early on, he’d found such a comfort in her, as easy as breathing. even easier, he thinks, like she was essential to his very being, the reason that his body functioned on a day-to-day basis. it hadn’t taken much, for that to string them together, souls entangled from the moment their eyes met at that party, all those years ago, hands intertwined while they seeking solace elsewhere. he hadn’t known it then, in that moment, but that sanctuary has always come from her— her, as a person. no matter how much distance is between them, or where they are, how much time has passed. it’s always been her, for him, no matter the circumstances. that hasn’t changed now, even with all they’ve gone through, deliberate actions or not. his gaze softens, as he looks at her now, wanting nothing more than to take back all that’s occurred tonight, to be whoever she needs him to be, to be what she wants. he’s had doubts that he hasn’t been for some time now, that clearly she’s found something better in fletcher— that whatever they'd once shared was long gone, only remnants, crumbles of a structure, that once stood so tall left in its place. now, he can see that maybe neither one of them have been fully honest about the natures of their relationship; that much he knew, if tonight's conversations were anything to go by, if their night a few weeks prior had anything to say, too. has never been great at remaining angry at her, anyway, as if his body is physically incapable of doing do for very long. so, as she takes a step closer, he does too, as if to tell her that, to remind her that this is how he's always preferred them, with her right within his reach. and his hand aches to reach out to her further, as if a single touch could make up for all of his wrongdoings, but he holds back, that hand clenched at his side. " it's okay, " he assures her, that gentle glint back in his eye, colour returning to his face. " this is all... pretty fucked up, i guess. guess it always has been. " and the chuckle that rumbles from his throat, this time around, is genuine. clipped around the edges, sure, as he paints the obvious, but that bitterness is no longer attached to his words. " i'd like that, though. starting over, i mean. if you still want me around, that is— know i haven't been very fair on you, that i've only been making things harder than they need to be, " a gulp, then, as if it encapsulates the regret, the guilt, that's been festering inside him, dating back to the moment he'd left. " it's just... you're always going to be someone that i want, and i don't know how to get rid of that, " doesn't know if he wants to. " and if that complicates things too much, i get it, you know? my goal in this has never been to hurt you.

it was cruel, what she said to him that fateful day over coffee. there was something wrong with her, she thinks, to ever say those words out loud to him, to lie about something she knew would hurt just to get a reaction. she wasn’t thinking of the consequences then, and that’s why she knows she deserves to face his frustration and his ire, now, to hear just how deeply her actions affected him. “ no, that was so fucked up, i know, i just… i was so jealous and scared that you found something better than what we had, so i lashed out, and it was fucking awful of me. i should’ve just told you the truth, instead, ” that no one else compares, in the slightest. there’s contrition written all over her countenance, shame and regret permeating every single syllable that leaves her lips. “ and i know that doesn’t fix it, and it’s okay if you hate me for it because i think i hate myself for it, too, i just… i’m so fucking sorry for ever putting that in your head. ” now having the same experience herself, she would do anything to wipe it from his memory entirely, just like she wished someone would do for her, right now. she understands now that this is why exes generally weren’t advised to talk after a break up— there was so much miscommunication and jealousy and hurt swirling around them, threatening to swallow them whole. and she’s afraid it might, until she witnesses his sigh, listening to his confession, feeling guilt well up inside of her as she allows for more honesty to spill past her lips, shaking her head slightly. “ hey, no, that night was… it was exactly what i wanted. you always... i mean, it always was, with us. " she pauses, wanting to offer additional reassurance. " it was perfect, miller, honestly— it meant everything to me. ” her voice shakes, slightly, on those last few words, but she means it all the same. she means it so much, actually, and she wants him to know that, to understand just how it’s affected her, how much she hates that he second guessed himself because of her previous actions. and she can’t help but hold her breath at his next admission, feeling herself soften entirely at his explanation, all her anxiety and fear melting away, disappearing into the cold night air. so that’s what all this was about— fuck, did she feel ridiculous now for worrying, for assuming the absolute worst. the relief that accompanies it is palpable, apparent in the nervous chuckle that spills past her lips. “ god, she’s really missing out. it’s not a bad sight, looking up at you. ” her gaze holds on him a little too long after saying that, but she breaks eye contact with him soon after, turning her head to hide her embarrassment at letting those words slip out as fingers rub across her face, her lips, as if to force them back inside. “ sorry, i shouldn’t have said that, but… that’s not fucked up, though. or well, it probably would be to anyone else, but i… i mean, i don’t even let him see me fully naked, because i just… don’t feel good about myself with him, and i always turn off the lights because i can’t bear to look up and see someone that isn’t you, either. ” it’s followed with a sigh, yet she feels emboldened enough to take a few steps closer to him; still respectful of his space, but close enough to satisfy that constant urge inside her to be near him. “ can we just… start over, you think ? because i really hate fighting with you. ” a pause. “ but i get it, if i’ve fucked things up too much. i only want you to be happy, you know ? ”