So some of you may have noticed that I've deleted this story- being the total noob I am, I've taken it out to edit a few things.
Originally, I had meant for "Cold" to be an angsty, emotion-provoking one-shot- and even with the "complete" beside it, some of you actually story-alerted... haha, you silly mooses. ;)
But because I've received many requests to continue this story, I'll turn this into a multi-chapter story- I'm thinking not as lengthy as 'Journal', but more than a one-shot.
Review if you want me to continue this 100%, otherwise I may just keep it as a one-shot!
And as always, enjoy!
There's a faint buzzing environing them both, a hazy fog reducing the carnival lights into blurry colours- blinking fuchsias, flashing blues, and foggy greens that he can't help but stare engrossingly at. His lips crush against hers with inexplicable ardency and urgency, prying her mouth open so that he can wrap his yearning tongue around her own. The hot air transferring between them both is like an unexplained, palpable representation of how much need in riding on their kiss. Eli should be able to hear their ragged breaths as they struggle to stay intertwined as much as possible, but the ringing in his ear prohibits him from hearing much of anything.
Her eyes are closed while they kiss. His are wide open.
They're open because he believes it'll be easier to remember the moment when he leaves. It makes it easier to register the feel of her hands gripping his hair, the way their torsos are pressed together in an insatiable thirst to be as close as physically possible. Then he'll remember how his fists are clenched around the bottom hem of her shirt, after having ripped open her jacket to find the innermost layer she is wearing. He doesn't plan on going any further than that, because he just wants his knuckles to be touching the soft skin on her waist. He's clutching onto her thin cotton shirt with insuperable strength, but he feels weak. It's the strength he has in his hands when he first wakes up in the morning, when he feels as if his blood had ceased to circulate. Like he can clench as hard as he can, but he's restrained by some unexplainable force. Still Eli grips, just as Clare grips.
"I'm cold," she whispers, breaking off and leaving a razor-thin distance between their lips. The frosty winter air is swirling around them ruthlessly, and Clare's teeth are chattering. Her lips look blue, icy against her pallid skin. "I'm so cold, Eli."
As her eyelashes flutter in the wind, he unclenches one hand and shakily slides his fingers between hers. He lifts up their joined hands beside them.
"You won't be cold much longer. They're going to find you any minute now, Clare, and you're going to be home soon."
"No," she says resolutely, searching his dark, unfathomable eyes. "I'm not going without you."
"This isn't where you belong," he breathes, much more callously than he intended. But though he speaks in such a harsh manner, he keeps his forehead pressed against the wide expanses of the girl before him. The girl who is trembling from his touch, frozen to the core from all the time they spent running. How many miles they travelled together, escaping their impending demise. Running together aimlessly in the dead of a very cold winter night , boots trudging through the thick inches of snow and hands clasped together as a reminder of why they were running. "They found us, Clare. It's over."
"No," she says again, shaking her head without tearing away her impenetrable gaze.
And he roughly smashed his lips against hers again, drinking in what little time they had left together. Permanently etching onto his brain what may be the last of happiness, for it to never be forgotten.
"It's not over," she tries to say, but it comes out as a week croak. A desperate plead for the survival of their love, an unwavering hope that what they've worked so hard to keep.
"Clare," he whispers bleakly. "You belong to Jake. We were never meant to twist fate."
Something flashes across her crystal blue eyes- anger? Betrayal? She chokes back a sob, roughly shoving at his chest. She pushes him hard, not once, not twice, but many times to get her message across. "I hate you!" she shrieks weakly, voice breaking at the last word. She advances, pushing him harder and harder. "Why are you giving up so easily? Why won't you fight for us?"
Eli just stands there, staggering back when his balance fails to keep him grounded. He doesn't say anything, just lets her shoves at him until she calms down. He knows her. He knows that her anger flickers out quicker than the flame of a candle, and that he can do absolutely nothing but wait until the storm is over.
"I don't love Jake!" she shakes her head furiously, curls whipping back and forth. They tangle from the movement, and her face flusters from sudden infuriation. "He doesn't even love me! He's a selfish gold-digger who only wants to inherit my family's fortune and I don't want anything to do with him!"
He sees her distress. He sees how much she wants to stay with him. But he also sees that a life with him guarantees perpetual trouble and struggles. Eli doesn't want that for Clare, because she's beautiful and golden and full of promise, and he's just Eli. He's frayed around the edges, whilst she radiates luminosity. At seventeen he already knows that his life has nothing else to offer him. The black abyss had always been waiting for him; the girl just delayed the inevitable.
"I know," he says ruefully, reaching out to cup her face. His hands are quivering, trying so hard to fight what's building inside of him. The anger, the sadness, the angst will ultimately reach the boiling point, as he's nothing more than a volatile being. A sharp contrast to her never-ending patience. "But you can't run anymore, can you?"
She sniffs, and she knows it's true. Her feet are swollen and aching, protesting with every step she takes. "I'll feel cold if you leave. My heart will be cold and summer will never bring me the same warmth as when you're around."
Just as he opens his mouth to speak, the loud sound of tires screeching against the pavement snaps them out of their trance, and the two turn around in synchronization. Police cars coming to abrupt halts, surrounding them so they couldn't escape. Clare gasps and cowers to Eli's side, and he immediately wraps his arm around her body.
"Police! Put your hands up!"
It was at that moment that the pain became excruciatingly unbearable. Not because his arms were roughly wound at his back by force, wrists linked together by the means of sliver handcuffs, but because he was ripped around from someone he loved more than anything else. Just like that, the closest person in his life torn away from him, dragged inside the backseat of a sleek black Volvo. In the driver's seat was undoubtedly the smug young man who had intimated all of this, and he was smirking like he had just won the lottery.
But he hadn't, because this was a much better win than what the lottery could possibly provide.
"Eli!" Clare screams, desperately trying to keep from being jammed in the car. Jake's security men all but shoved her in, mercilessly disregarding the tears trickling down her face as it contorted in absolute pain.
"Clare!" he yells back, trying with all his might to loosen himself from the cop's vice-tight grip. He shakes and wrenches in a futile attempt to break free, to take the girl's hand and run far away. But it isn't long before he just settles for craning his neck, just to see her face for as long as he possibly could before she leaves forever.
The car door slams shut with an air of finality, and she immediately scoots over to the windows to roll them down. The engine starts quickly, putting them both in a panic to squeeze in their last words.
"I love you!" she gasps loudly, sticking her beautiful head out. "I love you, I love you, please don't forget that!"
"Clare! I love-"
But the car careens away before he could get all the words in, leaving behind nothing but a puff of grey smoke, and the broken pieces of his lover's heart.
P.S: to the lovely review(s) who said they cried whilst reading this, you totally made my day. :)