A/N: WOOP! I'm back after... two days? :D This must be a new record for me. As opposed as I am to songfics, I had this idea floating around my head for a while and needed to write it if I was going to regain my sanity. :D Essentially, it's a very angsty story that will most likely be a twoshot. Ah, EClare angst: how we love thee!

I do not own the song "Surrender" by Billy Talent. But geez, what a song. I've never heard anything like it. Simply lovely.

This story is dedicated to Erised Lestrange because she is pandemically amayzing in every way. :)

Disclaimer: Really? If I owned Degrassi, this would be in scripts and not online

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds
Searching until my hands bleed
This flower don't belong to me
Why can't she belong to me?

Surrender every word, every thought, every sound
Surrender every touch, every smile, every frown
Surrender all the pain we've endured until now
Surrender all the hope that I lost you have found
Surrender yourself to me

There are many things I can tell you: I can tell you why the sun sets red. It's mainly a phenomenon in optics; in the spectrum of color, red particles travel the farthest. Extending from this, I could tell you why the sky is blue. Heck, I could tell you how to structure an argumentative essay and how to isolate a variable in a quadratic equation.

Yet, there are many things I can't explain. I can't tell you why my car breaks down every week; I keep it in top shape. I can't tell you why I love rock music; every person has their tastes I guess.

I've also learned how some of the unexplained phenomena in life really don't need to be clarified. My best friend isn't who you think he is. He's a man trapped in a woman's body; transgender, they call it. I can't explain how it works. All I can say is, I really don't care. I see him the way he wants to be seen. He's my friend. Case closed.

Some phenomena you wish you could explain but can never find the words to match it. Those are the worst. Because when it comes time to confront it, you can't formulate proper sentences with adequate vocabulary to get your point across. You stand there, looking like a fool, nervous and tongue tied as countless, nonexistent words danced on the tip of your tongue, mocking you. And you make stupid mistakes. Mistakes you'll regret forever. Mistakes you could have fixed had you been in the right mindset at the time.

Love… such a scary thing. I contemplated it once. Key word: contemplated. I hadn't established it yet. It's not one of those things that you earn by being a good brownie at camp; it's an epiphany. After ages of trials and hardships, you realize it and all the pieces suddenly fall into place, or so I've heard.

I didn't know what love was; I'd never experienced it. I didn't quite love Julia yet. It was still too early to judge. But I was certain it would happen one day. She was the sun in my life; she chased the storm clouds away with a flash of her grin or the blink of her eyes.

And in naught but a mere second, she was gone. Forever. Like the breeze, she passed through my life for a short while only to take off and never return. Because of me. If I hadn't been so harsh, she wouldn't have left in a hurry, her vision blurred and her mind in shambles. She probably would have seen the car as she crossed the intersection. She probably would have slammed the breaks and let it pass before pressing on. She would have lived.

Love didn't make sense to me after that; it was what I had mentioned earlier. You wish you could explain it, but can't. I've always had this ideology that love was a supreme force of happy emotions; the ray of light in your life. If it was so wonderful… why should I even consider ever finding it? After what I had done, did I deserve such a beautiful thing? A preposterous idea. Why should I deserve to be happy?

Never did I imagine she could change my life.

A deity of the purest kind, walking the earth among the mortals. She was beautiful in every way; her hair pigmented with autumn leaves, an intoxicating scent of roses and vanilla, her voice soft like the rain with eyes that reflected the summer sky. She was a saint, a peacekeeper, mature and logical with a fire and a passion to fight for her beliefs. Needless to say, I was captivated.

Clare.

My own personal slice of heaven and hell. Life is deliciously ironic.

I can't explain what she had done to me; it was one of those phenomena. I wouldn't force a smile at the sight of her sapphire eyes; it would come naturally. She made my nerves tense and my heart flutter. And she reminded me how to be happy.

I contemplated love again; this time, it didn't seem so distant, not like it had with Julia. It seemed real, easy and in the simplest terms right. And I had to let her know; I had to make her mine.

I did make her mine. I made her believe she was the only girl who could ever make me feel this way. We were happy.

Do you know who I am?

My name is Eli. Eli Goldsworthy. Elijah fucking Goldsworthy. And I screw things up. Nothing ever turns out right for me.

I am not a pushover. I don't let anyone have their way with me. Especially not bullies or jerks. So, you can imagine my aggravation when Fitz decided to pick a fight with me and Adam. You don't do that and come out alive. How do you keep a bully at bay? Refuse to be the victim. Keep. Them. Scared. It had worked for me until now.

Clare… my Clare… she had different ideas. She was the epitome of purity and innocence; she suggested we talked our differences and resolved the problem as men. She didn't understand; angels never see the blinding hate and pain that scours this earth. It wasn't that simple.

She threw herself into the fray. She attempted to be the white flag in this never-ending game of cat and mouse, offering herself as a reasonable sacrifice. After I had specifically told her to let me handle it. She wouldn't listen. She was just as stubborn as I was. Fuck.

I thought I would die two weeks ago; my enemy decided to step up his game and add weapons into the equation. Yet, as he approached me with a sullen, dark look on his face with the silver knife glinting in his grip with a taste for my blood, I thought of only one thing: Clare. What would she do if I died? The thought of her tears streaming from her perfect eyes, soaking my lifeless, blood-stained body was simply painful. There were so many things we hadn't done, so many things I hadn't said. Stupid things, like watching her burn her tongue on a cup of tea at The Dot or proofreading her assignments in the park after having skipped class. Watching her eyes flicker with understanding at my lopsided smirk or seeing her rosy cheeks grow scarlet after hearing one of my witty comments. The thought of dying, of never being able to see her lovely smile or gazing into her blue eyes ever again… I was frightened.

I would take a thousand knives and die a thousand deaths just for a chance to look into her eyes one last time. And that's when I realized it. Like a ton of bricks, it hit me. My realization, my sudden epiphany…

Love. I loved her. I loved her more than anything I could possibly imagine.

Although my life was spared, my feelings were in a knot, my thoughts in shambles. I lived to see another day and look into her eyes, smell her perfume, feel the softness of her lips on mine. But… would it ever be the same? Would I ever get to do all this again? Will I ever be able to tell her how I felt?

I don't have your answer. But if it's this… I don't think I can be with you.

Her words pierced my heart like that knife that had stabbed the wall beside me. My flesh may have been intact but my heart bled. In an instant, she was gone, leaving me to live in torment for the next two weeks, contemplating if I should speak to her or the words I would say if she had decided to grace me with her time. I spent two weeks counting the seconds until this moment, where I would be standing beside her locker, waiting for my angel. I needed to tell her how I felt, how she coursed through my veins and clouded my thoughts, how my delicate heart was torn without her smile and how fear seemed irrelevant when I spoke of love.

To surrender her smile, her thoughts, her wit and her touch; surrender everything to me.

I tensed as I watched her scurry briskly towards me, swallowing my fear as I straightened my posture. I didn't know how she felt. The only thing that seemed relevant to me at the moment was the fact that I had royally screwed up. And I needed to fix this.

"Clare?" I asked softly, not wanting to sound too demanding. She merely ignored me, fiddling with her lock as she attempted multiple combinations. She was upset. Fuck.

"Please, Clare, I need to speak with you," I continued, rolling my eyes slightly. I don't plead. I never fucking plead. What was this girl doing to me?

She angrily slammed her lock against the metal door, turning to meet my gaze, glaring knives at my clouded eyes. "Talk about WHAT, Eli? How you take my breath away, kiss me and hold my hand and suddenly turn violent, don't listen to my pleas, almost get yourself killed and barely speak to me for two weeks?"

"It's not like that. You wouldn't understand," I said briskly, gritting my teeth. She may have been the light in my life but there were some things she needed to let me take care of on my own.

She scoffed, shaking her head in disappointment. "You're stubborn as sin, Eli, you know that? You'd rather choose your pride over those that care about you. What am I to you?"

I stared at her, dumbfounded. What was she to me? Words couldn't describe what this girl was to me, what she meant to me. Yet, the look in her eyes said it all. She was slipping out of my grasp, ready to fall into the darkness that is my own personal hell. Good things never last for me. For once, I had found something worth fighting for and she was slowly slipping through my fingers. Why can't she belong to me?

I couldn't let her slip away. She was worth fighting for. "Clare, I… how could I speak to you after what had happened? How could I even look at you and not feel ashamed for what I had done to you?"

Her expression stayed firm with the exception of her eyes. They were dull, grey, clouded and glassy, filling with tears as the seconds trickled by. My hope trickled away along with her tears, afraid to know what she was thinking.

"Please, Clare," I said softly, "I'm sorry. Please tell me you'll give me a chance; please tell me I have a second chance to fix this."

Her expression was blank as a few tears streamed from her eyes, backing away from me as she sniffed to regain any form of composure she had left. I felt my expression twist into sadness as I lifted a shaky hand in her direction, silently pleading for her not to leave. My heart felt heavy as I saw her shake her head, denying my attempts at affection. We were in two different worlds now. Disconnected, torn at the seams. As was my heart.

"I don't love you, Eli."

With bated breath and a look of misery that made my heart sink, she turned the other way and marched towards the exit; exiting the school, dashing every scrap of happiness I had left.

There are some things I can't explain. This one, I could.

My name is Eli Goldsworthy and I never cry. Yet, Clare Edwards was responsible for the countless tears that streamed down my face.

I never had the nerve to ask
Has my moment come and passed?

ANGST! :D Essentially, chapter two will be all of this from Clare's POV, which means, you guessed it, sad ending. ;_; But it kills me to break up EClare so I was contemplating making this a threeshot... Hmm... As per usual, I will divert your attention to the 'Review' button below. :) I assure you, they will be worshipped.