Title: Love you Madly
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Pairings: The main pairing in this story is going to be Jay and Ellie, but there are some references and flashbacks to Sean and Ellie's relationship.
Setting: This is based a few weeks after Sean left, right after Alex broke up with Jay for cheating on her.
Description: Ellie's a lonely mess after Sean leaves, but she finds out she's not the only one. Jay's life has been going downhill just the same. He's been getting himself into all kinds of trouble, having nobody left to depend on. Ellie is left the only person who can help him.
A/N: This chapter has lots of Sellie, but Jay is going to be coming in the next chapter. I've been coming up with all kinds of Jay and Ellie stories lately, but I don't want to post more than just a couple at a time, because then I never get around to writing the older ones. This is one of the only non-oneshots. Anyways, it's been turning out pretty well, so I really hope you like it!
Chapter one: Alone. A-lone. [uh-lohn]
-Adjective:
1. Separate, apart, or isolated from others: I want to be alone.
2. To be the exclusion of all others or all else: One cannot live by bread alone.
3. Unique; Unequaled; Unexcelled: He is alone among his peers to devotion to duty.
-Adverb:
4. Solitarily; solely: She prefers to live alone.
5. Only; exclusively.
6. Without aid or help: The baby let go of the side of the crib and stood alone.
-Idioms:
Leave alone, let alone, let well enough alone.
-Synonyms:
Single, solitary; unaccompanied, unattended. Alone, lone, lonely, lonesome all imply being without companionship or association. Alone is colorless unless reinforced by all; it then suggests solitariness or desolation: alone in the house; all alone on an island. Lone is somewhat poetic or is intended humorously: a lone sentinel. Lonely implies a sad or disquieting feeling of isolation. Lonesome connotes emotion, a longing for companionship.
A longing for companionship. That sounds about right.
Even an online dictionary cannot completely express the true meaning of the word alone. Only the people who have lived it can truly know what it is. Alone is waking up to an empty apartment for three weeks in a row. Alone is nobody being around to hear you cry at night. Alone is having to downsize the milk cartons you buy at the grocery store when you can't handle a full gallon by yourself without it getting spoiled. Alone is alone; eating alone, sleeping alone, waking up alone, and watching television alone. Being alone is feeling alone, even when you're surrounded by a room full of people.
I have been, in all definitions of the word, alone, for almost a month now. Well that's not entirely true—I have a ferret. I can't say that having Bueller around is much of a comfort to losing Sean. I still don't understand what went wrong. We were so happy—weren't we? Yes, we definitely were. We stayed up late every night, snuggled on the couch. Every morning I'd fix us up some breakfast. We were like a little family; Sean, Bueller and I. He was the only real thing in my life. He was the only person I could rely on, no matter what. He took care of me.
Even though he's gone now, our apartment holds so many happy little memories. Little memories—Small instances of bliss, generated by simple, but loving actions. Like the way he'd tuck stands of untamed hair behind my ear. Or the way he would always defend me against his friends. Or how he would pick up random things from the video store he thinks I might like. Or how he would turn the ringer off when he and I were hanging out, so we could have some peace and quiet, away from distractions. Those kinds of simple actions are what make up why I love Sean so much, but one memory has always stuck out from the rest.
Sean and I were sitting on the couch eating dinner, when my mother called. I told Sean I was going into a different room so I could take the call. He nodded, his eyes still glued to the television screen as Elimination Round 3 played. I swiftly moved through our small hallway and took a right into Sean's room, the first door available. I sat down on Sean's bed as I greeted my mother over the telephone.
In a matter of minutes, we got into a huge argument. She wanted me to visit her, and I wasn't ready. She was instantly on me about how I never call, and how I don't care about her. Regardless to her letting me move out of the house, she's never been okay with me trying to break free from her. Nothing permanent, I just needed some space. This, obviously, didn't sit well with her. We've had arguments about this before, but this time she got down-right nasty. Apparently, I was an ungrateful and selfish girl, and that I was deserting her, just like my father. But the difference was that he was fighting for our country, where as I was just shaking up with my boyfriend. Finally, when I couldn't take it anymore, I hung up on her.
A few tears streamed down my cheeks as I lay down on Sean's bed, tightly clenching a pillow towards my chest. I took deep breaths, trying to remain silent. My attempts were meaningless, I realized, as I heard two slow knocks at the door. It's like he had some weird sixth sense for when I was feeling lousy. He didn't wait for my response as he cracked open the door.
I sat upright, and then set his pillow at my side. "You know," I turned my head and began wiping some tears from my cheeks before he could notice. "You don't have to knock to enter your own room. Sorry for invading."
He laughed, shutting the door behind him. "Invading? You make my room sound like its own country in a game of Risk." I forced a smile and shrugged as he continued. "You alright?"
"Yep," I lied, trying to come up with a story in my head. "That was just Marco on the phone. He said something about Paige dumping Spinner, and then it was just some ranting I didn't care to listen in on. I swear, sometimes he's worse than Ashley with the whole gossip thing."
Sean coked an eyebrow disbelievingly as he sat down on the bed next to me. He stared at me, prompting me to tell the truth. I inhaled deeply, and caved. "Okay, so it wasn't Marco." I admitted, leaning back on the bed. "It was my mom."
I could tell by his expression that he wasn't in the least bit surprised. He leaned back with me, and took my hand within his own. Whenever he reached out to hold my hand, it reminded me of when we first met in detention, and how I opened up to him on the roof of Degrassi. I smiled reminiscently as he spoke. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
The truth was that I didn't— but everything Sean said was always in code. Phrases like can you, do you, will you, and won't you were actually just used to sidestep direct requests or demands. For instance, 'Do you want to tell me what happened?' actually means, 'tell me what happened'. He would respect my answer if I didn't want to talk about it for now, but would only bring it up later. Sean was a very complicated person.
I, however, was not so complicated. Instead of having to deal with all that trouble to come, I just told him everything. He remained silent the whole time I spoke, absorbing everything. One great thing about Sean is that he's a fantastic listener. It's like spilling my guts out to a brick wall, but in a positive way. He only comments or responds when prompted, or asked directly, which was refreshing. He never judged me. He was always just there.
After we finished talking about my mom, I was feeling a lot better. Sean and I stayed there for two more hours, just chatting aimlessly. We talked about the most random and insignificant things ranging from my brat cousin in Fergus to every pet I've ever owned in my entire life. It wasn't until ten O'clock that I started getting a little worn out. Apparently, he sensed this too.
"Tired?" He asked shifting onto his side to face me.
I smiled and nodded. "A little." He returned my smile as he brushed the hair of my eyes and tucked it behind my ear. He then, once again, reached out to grab my hand. These were two of those subtle and tender actions he repeated often. Suddenly, I was overcome by emotion and blurted out, "I love you, Sean." I blushed as he smiled and kissed my forehead. He has told me before that he loved me, but this was the first time I reciprocated. This was not only the first time I told Sean that I loved him, but this was the first time I've told anyone. He was my first love.
I kissed him tenderly on the lips before he sat up, running a hand through my hair. "You should get some sleep. You can stay here tonight if you want, I'll just crash on the couch."
I raised my eyebrows at him, turning onto my back. "But this is your room."
He grinned at me as he stood up. "But you just look so comfortable." He then threw a blanket over me, and sat back down at the foot of the bed.
"You can always stay in here with me," I offered meekly. I then decided to revise a little. "And, you know—just sleep?" I had to make that point clear; although I guessed that he probably already knew what I meant. "If you want," I added, trying not to sound needy.
He smirked before lying down beside me, taking me in his arms. He kissed the top of my head and I just listened to his steady breathing. It was just so calming—grounding. I often fell asleep to the sound of his gentle snoring, not loud enough to be considered obnoxious, but this was even more comforting. I fell asleep within seconds.
The school shooting happened a week later, and nothing was the same.
I hope you liked the first chapter! Do not be fooled, this is Jallie fic. I just needed the Sellie in this first chapter to set up the story. Jay will come into the next chapter. The next chapter is a good one, so keep checking back! I'm hoping to have it up next week sometime, since I'm writing so many stories at once right now. I have a tendency to bite off more than I can chew, but that doesn't mean you should be surprised if this next chapter only takes me a couple of days—I'm pretty unpredictable that way.