This is my very first fanfic, so please be kind! I was inspired by browsing Clare's and Eli's twitters and I just had to start writing. Let me know if it sucks.
"That's it Helen, I can't handle your incessant nagging all the time!"
The house shook as my father slammed the door and walked out. I was in the dining room, trying to get some writing done on the laptop when it happened. I looked up at my mom, who had plastered a fake smile on her face, her eyes looked distressed as tears threatened to spill over. I sighed.
"Are you okay, Mom?"
Her fake smile broadened wider, and she answered me, "Oh I'm fine sweetie, just a little argument. It's nothing for you to worry about." With that, she turned on her heels and walked slowly up the stairs. I heard the soft click as she closed the door to her bedroom, where I knew she was finally allowing her tears to fall.
I couldn't handle it anymore. The tension in this house. The tension in my life. All I wanted to do was write and clear my head, but being here wasn't helping. I decided to head to the library, so after I spouted off a quick note on my twitter account, I packed up my laptop and my bag and left. I didn't bother telling my mom, I didn't bother leaving a note. If they can't be bothered to talk to me about what's going on in our house, why should I bother telling them anything about me?
The walk took longer than I thought, but it was nice to be outside. The air is getting cooler and the leaves are starting to change, a sign that fall is here. I got to the library and got a spot in the very back, so that no one would bother me. Not that I thought anyone would, even if they did read my twitter. I didn't want to talk to anyone, I didn't want to think about anything, I just wanted to write. About what, I'm not sure. It's not like I had any assignments to work on, as school was on a break.
Of course as I put my fingers to the keys, trying to write whatever was in my heart, my mind started to drift, thinking about things I had been trying desperately to push to the back of my head the past couple of days. I thought about the school dance that happened on Friday, "A Night in Vegas". I thought about him. The last words I spoke to him at the end of the night. I don't have the answer. But if it's this, then I can't be with you. I thought about him standing there, one hand clenched tightly into a fist, as Mr. Simpson warned us of the big changes that would happen to the school after our break. I thought about the way he looked at me as I got into my mom's car. We didn't exchange any other words after I'd said that, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was sorry. And for what it's worth, I was too.
At that moment, I realized what I wanted to write. Taking cues from an earlier English assignment, I decided to write a letter. Whether he would see it or not, who knows, but I just knew I had to write it. I had to get these thoughts out of my head and onto paper. At first I wasn't quite sure what it was I wanted to say, but pretty soon my fingers were flying across the keys.
Eli,
I am sick of the fighting, all day everyday. If I'm not putting up with it in my home, I'm dealing with it at school, the aftermath of whatever latest battle you and Fitz have endured. I want to support you, I want to let you in, I want to love you, but if you are going to continue adding fuel to the flame, I just can't. It's no longer a matter of want, I just can't.
It has been four days since the event and my blood runs cold every time I think about what happened. I wish I could explain to you how I felt that night. Why did I agree to go with Fitz? Why did I think that my act of heroism would end this stupid feud? I thought if I put myself out there and endured one measly night tied to Fitz's waist, it would all end. I hoped you would be okay with it.
I am torn between my feelings right now. On the one hand, I am so over-the-top angry at you for slipping the Ipecac into his drink, even more mad at the fact that you tried to put it on me! But when I told you that you'd get what you deserved, I never thought that what was about to happen would happen.
But when I saw the knife I knew that despite how mad at you I was, I desperately cared for you and didn't want you to get hurt. That moment as Fitz hurled the knife towards you as you slid to the floor, will be forever etched in my brain. The moment where I realized that this was more than a crush, more than a friendship, dare I say it, love? And the relief I felt when I saw the knife sticking out of the wall confirmed it. So when I told you that I can't be with you, believe me, it's not that I don't want to. But my heart can't handle anymore fighting, between you and Fitz or whatever other bully comes around. This has to stop. I need this to stop.
At that moment, I felt a presence behind me. I stopped typing and turned around to see the very person I was writing about, writing to. I closed my laptop and sprang to my feet.
"Eli. Hi." Why was I so nervous? His eyes shifted to the floor, uncharacteristically showing a lack of complete confidence, as he said hi back. "How did you know I was here?"
"Twitter. I replied back to you asking if you wanted company."
I admitted to him that I hadn't checked any of my online accounts. He asked what I was working on and when I told him it was nothing, I'm sure the flush of my cheeks, or the way my teeth automatically bit down on my lip, or the way my gaze slightly faultered, was a dead give-away that it wasn't something I wanted him to read. He stood there staring at me, daring me with his eyes to tell him the truth. He knows me too well. "It's personal," is all I said.
Eli smirked knowingly. If anyone could get me to open my writing in a personal way, it was him. "You know, I guess I'm still technically your English partner. Want me to read it over?"
How could he be acting so cool, so Eli, after everything that happened Friday night. I'm sure my look said it all though, as he sat down beside me and started talking.
"Look, I am so so sorry for everything that happened, and everything I put you through. I never wanted to do anything to hurt you or put you in danger."
I didn't look at him. "You put yourself in danger, Eli. How could you have not known that would hurt me? If I'm your girlfriend," I looked up and saw him wince at the word "if", "What you do directly affects me."
He looked so ashamed, so full of remorse. "I wasn't thinking," he said. "I don't know what else to say besides that I'm sorry. I know now how stupid it all was."
"It took the threat of a knife for you to realize that?" My words came out a lot more harsh than I had intended. I really didn't want to fight with him, but he had to know how angry his actions made me.
He looked at me, his eyes full of sorrow. Eli Goldsworthy can be a lot of different things. He can be "bad-ass", sarcastic, smug, sexy (did I just think that?). On Friday I saw the fear I know is inside him, and tonight, I saw remorse and sorrow.
"I'm sorry Clare," he said as he started to stand up. "I've done a lot of thinking since it happened. I realize the position I put you in, and I understand." He gulped. "I understand why you can't be with me."
He started heading back towards the entrance of the library when I realized that I couldn't just let him walk away. I didn't know what I was going to say, I didn't know if there was anything I could say. My words failed me so I just did what I felt was right. I grabbed Eli by the shoulder, spun him around and kissed him. Eli was shocked at first, but kissed me back. When the kiss ended, we looked in each other's eyes.
"Does this mean you'll forgive me?" he said smiling, a real smile.
"I'm still livid with you Eli, for letting your feud with Fitz go on so long. But," I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. "I care about you too much to just let you walk away. If you even think about fighting with anyone else, I will walk away from you and never look back."
Eli smirked. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Now, what was it you were working on?"
With that, he jogged over to my computer. I squealed and tried to pull him away, but he was stronger than me, and part of me really didn't care if he read it. I guess I realized that words were just words, and actions ALWAYS speak louder than words. I knew in that moment that we'd be okay, that I'd be okay. Heh, if we got through a potential knifing by Fitz, I guess we could get through anything. After he finished reading my letter, he looked at me with knowing eyes and I nodded. I closed up my laptop, packed up my bag, and walked out of the library hand in hand with my boyfriend. Boy was I glad that my parents were fighting tonight, prompting me to get out of the house and work through my thoughts at the library. At least some good came out of their constant bickering.