So I was listening to Sam Smith and then this happened and I haven't posted anything in a while so I figured why the hell not. Might be a bit crappy because I haven't written fanfiction in a while (I'm on wattpad but I haven't updated in like 3 months so that doesn't count). But anyway, a little bit of Kick for all of you lovers out there. ~The Phantom
She had been terrified. For weeks on end she was so scared, so shaky and uncertain around him, so vulnerable - defenceless. It didn't matter if she knew how to fight, how to kick someone's ass, how to block a punch or save herself from a violent enemy. None of that mattered because she was taught that - she knew how to fight, because someone had taught her how. But emotionally- no matter how many walls she'd raised, she was defenceless. Nobody taught you how to stop hurt from happening, nobody taught you how to defend yourself from fear or pain or misery. From all the things she'd been feeling for weeks.
Her friends had tried to reach out to her. They had patiently offered their ears to listen, their hands to help her up from the ground, from the empty, bottomless pit she'd found herself in. They'd offered their arms for warm embraces that would never compare to his, and they'd offered endless words of comfort, of sympathy and support meant to inspire her, words that were weightless and so unlike his. They'd offered every possible thing they could, all that they were, just to help her. And she'd not even been able to refuse it. She was so lost in herself, in her misery and her thoughts and her pain that she couldn't even reply. Couldn't accept their comfort and affection, their warm hugs or their gentle encouragements. She couldn't tell them what had happened or how much it hurt, how she felt like she couldn't breathe, like her lungs were rejecting air as if she'd never known how to breathe. Maybe she never had. Or maybe she just couldn't breathe when it wasn't him she was breathing in.
Her heart ached constantly, her body numb with pain that she wished had never come. When she passed him in the halls and he smiled at her, joyous as if they were still friends and she was still whole, she would stop moving altogether, catching herself smiling back at him; her lips curving upwards on their own accord against her will even as tears burned at the back of her eyes and her whole stomach lurched dangerously. She hated it, smiling at him after her heart was torn from her chest and stomped on, sitting with him at lunch because her friends were his too. She hated being in contact with him at all, seeing him acting like everything was fine, smiling at her as if she'd never told him she liked him and he'd never rejected her.
But she mostly hated herself. Hated herself for sitting beside him when there was an open seat next to her girls, hated herself for acting normal around him- like they were fine and she'd forgiven him. She hated herself for feeling better in his presence, as if he took away all her pain, replacing it with wholeness of some emotion she couldn't name. She hated herself for smiling back at him even though it wasn't her fault, even though she couldn't help herself. She wanted to though, and she knew that was a step. Wanting something and admitting it was half the battle. The other part was getting there to the finish, finally having what you wanted...or even what you didn't. Kim knew that all too well. After all, she had wanted him...
Every day, every moment, she found, was tortuous. But Fridays, were definitely more unfavourable. She was rejected on a Friday, completely torn apart in the light of a half moon, shattered beneath an infinity of stars. Her friends went out on Fridays, so did he, although not with them. No, her friends took Kim with them, dragging her wherever they wanted to go, trying to make her feel wanted and included while not knowing she could barely feel anything that wasn't pain or brokeness. Anything that wasn't related to him in some way. When he went out though, he went the same place as them, though still not with them. Because when he went out he was with her.
Kim found that more toruous. What was worse than seeing the guy you like act like your best friend after he'd torn you do bits? Seeing the guy she loves act like her best friend while he's on a date with the girl he rejected her for.
The girl he'd liked while he led Kim on.
The girl he'd needed to build up the courage to talk to.
The girl he'd needed to practise asking out.
The girl who lived in the bedroom next to Kim's.
The girl who didn't care her boyfriend had used her baby sister as a practise dummy for her.
Kim hated her the most. Not for stealing the boy she loved, or for accepting his declarations of love. No, Kim hated her sister for smiling at her as she accepted Jack's invitation for a date, she hated her for positively grinnning when she told Kim she was his girlfriend. Kim hated her for ignoring her. For not caring about her. For doing exactly what Jack had done in leading her to believe she was cared about, loved to some extent, and then turning everything around on her. Kim hated her sister for manipulating her, for lying to her and breaking her just as much as Jack did.
"Hey."
The word did little to settle her current despair, her brokeness, but Kim knew just by the feeling stirring in her lower gut who it was. The feeling of wholeness overwhelmed her, and she nodded shortly as Jack sat next to her on the bench.
"Aren't you supposed to be playing tonsil hockey with my sister?" She retorted quietly, watching from the corner of her eye as Jack reclined against the back of the bench, his shoulders sagging as he looked out into the crowd of people on the boardwalk. He looked almost as broken as she felt. Like all the air from his lungs had been stolen and he was trying to learn how to breathe without it, not caring that it was nearly impossible.
His scruffy brown locks bobbed as he nodded. "Yeah." He agreed, "I'm supposed to be...I don't want to be, but I'm supposed to be."
Kim felt her whole world spin on its axis, her heart stuttering in her chest. He didn't want to be...
"Then what do you want, Jack?"
Why are you sitting here? The question echoed in her thoughts, hanging unspoken in the air between them. She saw Jack nod again, as if accepting the blame - accepting the fault for her pain.
"I don't want her..." He left it there a moment, huffing in a breath before he exhaled, his voice quiet. "...but I also don't want you."
Kim couldn't find the energy in herself to nod, her stomach turning as her heart pounded once harshly in her ears, the feeling of liquid pouring into her chest reminding her of the last time he'd said that. He told her he didn't want her at all, that she was so similar that practising with her would make everything easier. He'd ripped a hole into her that night, and he'd reopened it now.
"I love you." She offered, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. It was pain filled, something she expected, but there was finality - acceptance and blandness. She wasn't surprised by his admittance. Her hopes had been raised fruitlessly and she felt wounded once more, but she wasn't surprised. Her declaration of love wasn't a declaration anymore. It was just a fact. Just...there.
Jack's hand slowly encroached on her own, squeezing once and sending a spark of...something shuddering along her veins before he pulled away again.
"I know...and I'm sorry." Believe me, Kim heard him, her head bobbing gently in acceptance of his silent plea. She did. She hadn't believed he was ever sorry, that he ever would be...but she could see it now. Hear it in the way his voice trembled. He was sorry, and she believed him.
"I shouldn't have used you...it's not right, it isn't right and I'm so sorry Kim. It was so selfish of me - I-I'm ashamed of myself for it, Kim, truly."
She just nodded mutely again. There wasn't much she could say. She wasn't going to tell him it was okay - It wasn't. It would never be okay, and they would never be the way they were again because even if she did forgive him, she would never forget what he'd done. Never trust him to the same extent again. He'd ruined them, and she accepted that.
"You still haven't said why you're here." She said instead.
"I miss you...and I know, it's my fault that I do, because I did this, I caused this...and I know you don't trust me and you might not forgive me. But I want you to know something."
He leaned into her, placing a gentle kiss against her cheek before he stood up, walking back to his date, her sister, as Kim slowly absorbed his words. The hole, the open gaping wound in her chest felt like it was finished bleeding, like it was finally beginning to heal. Maybe closure was all she needed. Maybe finality, the definitive 'no' smothered in what was the hope of friendship was all that was needed to for her to feel it was okay to move on. There was no more hope for a chance with him romantically. And maybe that was all she needed to know for her to begin helping herself.
"I'm sorry...and I do love you, just not in that way."