Clare sat perched on a stool next to the breakfast counter of their- her apartment. The glaring screen of her cell phone, the only light source in the tiny apartment, cast a eerie glow on her pale face. She blinked rapidly and wiped her cheeks before beginning to type a reply. Her fingers shook as she sat the phone down on the counter and walked into the living room. She sank slowly down on the couch and allowed the soul-crushing misery to roll over her like waves.

She and Eli were over. She knew it and it resonated in every fucking cell in her body, but for some reason she couldn't accept it. She couldn't make herself truly believe that what they were had simply fallen apart at the seams. But she had to. Because it had and there wasn't a god damn thing she could do about it. Except cry.

That's all she did lately. Cry. She would catch herself in the middle of writing an article or doing the laundry. Once it happened during an interview. That was the worst one. She swallowed hard and shook her head. Eli would be over soon to pick up the remainder of his things and drop off his copy of the key. After tonight it would be final. The last nail would be pounded into the metaphorical coffin and her heart.

After a quick shower she thought about dressing up a little, but quickly decided against it. Eli had seen her in her at her very best and at her very worst, but he was still leaving. Nothing she wore was going to change that. She checked the time after pulling on some sweats and running a brush through her curls. She had about ten minutes before he was supposed to arrive so she used the time to prepare herself as best she could. She knew she was fooling herself. She would never be ready for what was about to happen, but she tried to be anyway.

When the buzzer screeched letting her know someone was trying to come up she knew she had failed miserably. She didn't even ask who it was before she allowed them access. A few moments later there was a knock on the door. She opened it to find Eli standing there with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, a tick he had when he was severely nervous, and a scowl on his face. He looked awful. There were prominent bags under his eyes and his hair was a matted mess, but he didn't seem to care. Somehow, though, to Clare he was still beautiful.

"You shouldn't just buzz people up, Clare." He growled as he walked passed her and slammed the door behind him. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not your concern anymore, Elijah. Don't worry about who I buzz up and who I don't." She shot back. She regretted it as soon as she saw the hurt flash across his eyes, but she stood her ground. He had no right to admonish her anymore. No matter the reason.

"Clare—" He started, but she cut him off.

"The boxes are in the bedroom. They were in the way where you put them." Eli sighed and pursed his lips together. She could tell he wanted to continue chiding her, but thought better of it. Quietly, he disappeared into the room and Clare had to fight the urge to follow him in. After a few moments, when he didn't return, she moved silently across the living room and leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom, watching him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with a picture of the two of them clasped tightly in his hand. She stared as he rubbed his fingers absently over her face in the photo.

"Where did we go wrong?" He whispered and she could tell he was suppressing the urge to cry by the way his voice cracked and shattered, leaving broken bits of his heavy sentence all over the place. The tiny shards were digging deeper and deeper into Clare's flesh until she couldn't take it anymore. She wanted to go over to him. She wanted to take him in her arms, kiss him, and tell him that no matter what was wrong they would fix it. Together. But she didn't. She couldn't because her body was frozen where she stood, her feet bound stubbornly in their place.

"E-Eli, I think you should go now." She whispered, cursing herself for letting her voice shake. He looked up at her like a small child that had gotten caught doing something he knew he shouldn't and nodded his head. He placed the photo frame back on the nightstand.

"You're probably right."

He gathered the few boxes out of the corner and headed toward the door. Clare took his lead and opened the door for him. He lingered for a moment and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but quickly snapped it shut. He shook his head and walked out, but just as Clare was about to close the door he stopped her.

"Wait, Clare—" he started. Her breathing hitched as she hung onto his words like a life line. He sighed and shook his head again. "Don't buzz anyone up without asking who it is first again, okay?" He took a deep breath and turned his head away from her so she couldn't see the tears welling up in his eyes again. "Please." He whispered.

"Okay, I'm sorry." She whispered back. He nodded and continued down the hallway as she closed and locked the door tightly behind him. They hadn't said goodbye because in their heads if they didn't say it then it was somehow less real. Less final.

Clare choked back a sob and leaned against the door.

"Forever and always." She whispered so quietly she barely heard it herself.