My beautiful fanfictioners! How are you all today? Last night I wanted to write SO badly but I didn't know what to write, and for some reason I got the line "Eli can't help but hold his breath" stuck in my head for hours and hours. Finally I decided to just type it into a word document and the rest came spilling out after it. I know I've been AWAL for about a thousand years, and I'm not promising a novel coming out any time soon. But writing this felt absolutely amazing and I already have the second part halway finished. This was originally going to be one long chapter but I think it's easier for you guys when it's cut up into two shorter ones. So here is part 1.
Third person is not exactly my forte, so this is an apology in advance if you think this story is terrible. I don't exactly know where this came from.
Disclaimer- I don't own Degrassi. If I did I would have a lot more money, be married to Justin Kelly, and those hideous uniforms would be history. Just saying.
Eli can't help but hold his breath.
Imogen is holding onto his hand with a grip strong enough to break steel, and he can feel the blood circulation draining from his palm. She always does this; holds onto Eli with such strength you would think he's a mad dog trying to escape out of the pound. But Eli knows that this is just Imogen's way of making sure he never feels alone. She had experienced him when his level of depression sank down into the negatives, and the fear of that occurring again is always a gray cloud above her head. By paining him with the devil that is her grip, Eli has no choice but to feel like someone else is always there beside him. In a way, it's quite romantic of Imogen.
People have finally gotten over the fact that Eli and Imogen are a couple. The first time they kissed by the lockers and held hands in the hallway, a parade of eyes burned holes into the back of Eli's head. He guessed everyone was wondering whether or not Imogen hadn't heard the news of how Eli's last relationship ended, or if she was just stupid enough not to care. Either way, people talked, and laughed, and made fun of, and even though this brought Eli's blood into a state of boiling Imogen never once seemed affected by all the paparazzi. If anything, she enjoyed the mass amount of attention. Once, when Dave Turner and Connor Deslauriers stared at the couple flirting by the J.T. Memorial, Imogen threw the two awestruck boys a devious smirk and gave Eli a kiss that was more sexual than sex itself. When it was over she looked over at them and smiled with a sweetness one level short of evil. Eli looked at them, and Dave did nothing but whistle in that obnoxious way only he's capaple of doing. Connor, on the other hand, threw Eli a sharp look of hatred. Eli knew Connor loved Clare the way he himself loved Fiona, and it never occurred to him that by hurting Clare he would gain himself a few enemies along the way.
"You look so ravishing today," Imogen purrs to him with a glint in her eyes, "But then again, you always do."
Eli laughs, and out loud it sounds much more relaxed that he expects it to be. "I work hard for this appearance, my dear."
"You know what they say - practice makes perfect."
It is a photoshopped version of the previous year. Walking down the hallway, holding hands with a beautiful girl, flirting and laughing and ignoring the crazy world busting about only a few feet away. But instead of blue eyes and ginger curls, his hand is in the embrace of the girl with an elephant necklace and an updo bun.
She is his, he knows, no matter what obstacle life throws their way. Imogen had made that quite clear the day she threw herself on the ground and broke her nose just to save his ass. She will never leave him, never turn her head the other way, never question whether or not they are meant to be together.
Eli just wonders if he can say the same thing about himself.
When him and that girl were together at last, Adam would always poke fun at Eli for his hopeless romantic ways. "'Oh Clare," he would say in his pathetic version of Eli's voice, "'You're the only one for me. I'll do anything for you.' Geeze man, get a grip!"
That was only the start of it. His parents would give each other a raise of the eyebrows every time Eli walked through the door after one of their dates. "Someone's in love," his mom would say, and his dad would laugh and respond with, "Someone needs some action."
During those moments Eli would just roll his eyes and pretend to hate their constant commentary on his love life. But in a way their babbling made the fact that he was in love real. This wasn't just a dream, it wasn't just all in his head. The people around him experienced it, too.. Eli really had everything he ever wanted and there was not one person in the world who couldn't see that.
Thinking back to those days, Eli realizes that he hasn't once heard Adam's mock voice or seen his parents eyebrows go up mischievesly. Occasionally someone will yell, "Get a room," when he and Imogen are kissing in the hallway, but other than that the world is silent in the mist of their relationship. No one else sees the love that should be plastered on his face, or snap him back to reality from the daydream he's supposed to be swimming him. He's always alert, always aware of what's around him, and that scares him. Because love is supposed to send you into an alternate universe a million miles away and Eli is solid on this Earth every second of everyday.
He shakes the thoughts away. Love has no rulebook. No one says you have to get butterflies in your stomach or go to sleep smiling every night or daydream about holding them in your arms. Maybe that was just a different form of love. Maybe this is the real thing and that was nothing but an allusion of what it's all cracked up to be
"Eli?"
Imogen's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife. He looks at his girlfriend and feels a sense of affection towards her. It doesn't make him lose all feeling in his knees, but that's okay.
"What? Sorry, I was deep in thought."
"Hopefully about me," she squeezes his hand even tighter and Eli cringes in pain, "I think that's just part of the creative territory. Sometimes I'll be in the middle of talking and just trail off because I start thinking about something totally random like cats or burritos. Or a cat eating a burrito," she started giggling like a little girl, and this time Eli can't help but smile. She really is something special. "Anyway, I was saying that I have to go help Fi with her hair. She thought it would be fun to experiment with the waver today before school even though I told her not to and if I don't help her now it's going to be World War 3."
"You better go, then. We cannot afford any nuclear bombs going off."
"No, we cannot." Imogen reaches up to give him a soft peck on the lips. She tastes like maple syrup and Eli leans in closer to get even more. Eventually, she pulls away and smiles confidently.
"Save that for later, sweetheart." With one last kiss on the cheek Imogen walks the other way.
Just as Eli begins strolling through the hallway again, Imogen spins around abruptly and puts her hands on her tiny waist. "I forgot to tell you today! I love you!"
The words are so incredibly genuine when she says them, but for some reason Eli's heart doesn't flutter the way it used to when he heard them. His stomach flips around for a few moments, but it stops to quickly he begins to thinks it might have just been in his head.
"I love you, too," He says the words back, but the happiness in his voice is painted on with temporary ink.
When Imogen walks away, Eli looks down at his wrist. The old, broken antique watch sits silently on his skin, and in this moment it weights a thousand pounds. He knows that wearing this watch is almost as bad as kissing another girl, but there's still a piece of his heart that can't find the will to take it off. He finds himself wearing it all the time- during gym class, to bed, even in the shower. Not once has he ever done this with his other jewelry, not even his skull ring. It's second nature to him to take off all his jewelry during those times, so why doesn't he do the same with the watch?
He refuses to answer the question.
The hallways are getting less and less dense with each step he takes. Eli's merging into the D wing, which is always so cold that most students do their best to avoid it all costs. He doesn't mind the sudden strike of chills up his back, though. The silence is a sanctuary away from the rest of world.
He sits down against a row of lockers and puts on his headphones. Dead Hand blasts through the speakers and Eli can't help but bop his head to the beat. He still can't believe the wild conert he went to with Adam, Bianca, and Sav. It feels more like a dream than reality, and there are parts of the night that he literally can't recall. Biana getting busted is, of course, a solid picture in his mind, but getting to the concert and setting up a plan to get the truck is all very blurry.
Eli leans his hand back and closes his eyes, letting the music take over his entire body. Some people get a massage to destress; Eli listens to Dead Hand. It seems like a much better alternative in his opinion. Who would want some stranger rubbing their hands all over their naked body? He shudders at the thought. There are only a handful of people he'll even allow to touch him, let along give him a massage. Imogen once insisted that his muscles were about to crack from all his anxiety, so Eli gave in and allowed her to give him a back massage. It felt good, and Eli definitely could move around better afterwards, but during the massage he found himself not being able to truly relax and surrender to her gentle touch. There was a little part of him that was very aware of her hands on him and wanted them off because it just didn't feel right. Her fingers were too skinny, and her palm was too scrawny; not at all soft and tender like those that used to embrace him.
Eli takes his agonizing thoughts and shoves them down his throat. All this reminiscing is beginning to put a strain on his sanity. Last year, he tells himself, was the bad Eli; the crazy Eli, the depressed Eli, the Eli nobody wanted to be near. This year, he's better; he's calmer, he's happier, he's finally stable for once in his life.
Now all that's left for him to do is let go of the past and grab a hold on the future.
Crappy ending. I know. But the second chapter will actually have dialogue...and this dialogue may be between a certain ex-couple everyone wants to get back together... ;)
Okay, my loves! Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!