This is another Fic I made inspired by a song. As You Turn Away by Lady Antebellum.

It's Jesse's POV.

Sorry in advance for misspelling or wrong grammar. English is not my first language.

Enjoy.

Thanks for reading. And I appreciate any correction and critique.

I know this day will come. Believe me I do. I can feel it since a long time ago. Maybe if I wasn't so deep in denial, I would have seen- No. I shouldn't have let this come to this point.

It's on both of us. Because we both do know. Know better than to let this keep rolling for way too long. Know better than to start something that we weren't sure we could finish together.

You love her. You have always been. I know that. Your feelings for her has never change.

That part, is not my fault. And frankly, after three years we've been together, I don't think I haven't done anything to reach out for you. I keep reaching out for you. Not only to make you stay. But to make you love me.

However, now I have to admit. I fail. Miserably.

So here we are. It's one in the morning and we're in a hotel room. My hotel room.

I know it as soon as I open the door and see your defeated look. You're done trying to love me. You're done denying your true love. And I know that it has always been reserved for her.

Only her.

I know it. You know it. And she knows it too.

I let you in, and we just stand there in the middle of the room. In silent. We don't have anything to say. Not anymore. We both know that there's nothing left to say that can change anything between us.

There's nothing left to give. I've given all I have to you. And you've given your best shot. We've given what we could've given to this relationship. Yet it's still not enough. So yeah. There is nothing left to give too.

And there is nothing left to break either. You've been breaking my heart for three years. As well as hers. And in the process, you also have broken yours. We; you and I, have done breaking each other. By pushing to go on in this relationship. So yeah. Nothing left to break either.

I simply look down at the floor. Waiting for the inevitable break-up. Still in silent. Not my strongest suit. Has never been. I like to talk. I talk a lot. But not now. Not this time.

You on the other hand, have always been a none-talker. You're not good with words. That's why I can feel your arms wrap around my waist and your head on my chest.

"Sorry."

That is the only word you can breathe out. And I know that it's your best effort.

The only thing I can do is swallowing the lump in my throat. Hard. But when I feel that you're pulling away, I put my arms around your back.

Honestly, I don't want to let you go. I don't think I can. Even though I know for sure that you're already gone. From a long time ago. But I'm still hoping that you'd stay. Who am I kidding? I love you. To the moon and back. To infinity and beyond. I love you.

And even for a little while, if I could, I'd make you stay. Just for a little bit longer.

Maybe you know that. Maybe you understand. Because with my arms around you, you simply pull back a little bit to look at me.

Again, you are not good with words, Beca. You know it. I know it. She knows it. Everybody else know it.

But the thing you don't know is that, your eyes say it all. I can easily read you only by looking into your eyes.

And so does she. Maybe better than I can. Maybe.

Right now, your eyes are showing sadness. It's your wounded look. You've never showed me that look. But I've seen it before. When she dated someone else. You were wounded.

I knew it back then that it was her effort to move on from you. But you didn't know that.

But you being you, you didn't say anything at all that you were not only jealous. You were hurt.

Well me being me, I didn't need you to say anything at all to know that you were not only jealous. You were hurt.

And her being her, she didn't need you to say anything at all too to know that you were not only jealous. You were hurt.

That's why she doesn't date anybody else after that. For more than two years. Crazy. But I understand. Seeing those wounded eyes on your beautiful face is too heart wrenching. I will stop dating too if I were her. I can't see you hurt. Especially if it is because of me.

I can't hurt you. And so does she.

At first, I wondered why she'd never told you about her feelings. Not even when she finally realized that you feel the same way.

I found my answer when you finally told me about your parents. She doesn't want to be a home wrecker, that at the same time will put you in your father's position years ago. A cheater? Maybe. A liar? Possibly. But the foremost reason is that she can't ask you leave me for her. Like Sheila had asked your father to leave you and your Mom.

She can't do that to you. To us. You have to make the decision on your own. Not after she tells you that she loves you. You have to make the decision regardless of how she feels about you. You have to make the decision in regard of your own feeling. Just so you can learn to take a responsibility of every decision you make.

Weird. I know. But that's her way of loving you. A kind of love that wants you to grow up. Selfless.

But you? You have been selfish. You have been denying your feelings to her. A feeling called love.

I remember it clearly how you call it. A stupid little thing called love. For you, being in love is stupid. No. Being in love makes you stupid. Making yourself vulnerable in the open to be hurt by someone else is being stupid. For you. And you deny it with all of your being.

But I know you Beca. And so does she. You are too scared to admit that you love her more than life itself. That you chose me because I was the safe option. Still am. You don't love me enough to give me such power to destroy you. I don't have such power over you.

On the other hand, she has that power. To destroy you. Your wall. Your protection. Your fragile sensitive heart. That you have been trying so hard to keep to yourself. But try as hard as you might, only by one look, one harmony, in a bathroom, and you were a goner. For her. Still are.

Yep. She has that power over you. But she doesn't use it. She loves you too much to use that power to hurt you. Instead, she stands on the sidelines, waiting, hoping, wishing, that one day you will come around.

And apparently, that one day is today. I think. Maybe. The day after World Championship. A day before you all go back home and have your separate ways.

I sigh deeply. Still staring at your eyes. Your steely blue eyes. It's been a while. But you're still staring at me with those eyes.

Hurtful eyes.

And I know it's not because you're hurting. Well, I know you're hurting. But that hurt in your eyes are for me. Because you don't want to hurt me. You've never wanted to. But you have to. And you feel bad for that. You feel devastated for hurting me.

I know that you wouldn't do this if there is any other way. But you- No. I mean us. You and I. We've been dragging this heavy burden for way too long.

Believe me. I know. You know it. And she knows it too.

And it will only bring pain to us even more in the end if we don't stop. There is no other way to stop the hurt other than to cauterize the wound we've kept open for a long time. Even though it will hurt for a while. But it will heal. With no long-term damage. Hopefully.

Strangely, I don't feel hurt right now. I don't feel like crying. I can feel a hole in my chest. But it doesn't hurt me. I can feel it spreading this... numbness all over my body though. And it helps. So no. I'm not hurt neither wounded. I'm numb.

You kiss my cheek. And it feels bitter sweet. Really. Because I know, you don't like doing this too. Saying goodbye to me. To us. In fact, you don't like saying goodbye at all.

I know it. You know it. And she knows it. Why do you think she stays for another three years at Barden?

For The Bellas, she keeps saying.

For you, is the truth.

Because she knows just how much you hate to say goodbye.

Weird. Stupid even. I know. But again, that's just the way she loves you. A kind of love that shows a promise to stay. No matter what the circumstances are. Even when you didn't choose her.

Now I see you smile. A faint sad smile as you put your hands on my arms and rub it up and down. Then you draw your hand down my arm to hold my hands. And it hurt. Because the numbness is wearing off. And I start to feel this pang under my diaphragm.

It's the final touch. That's why it starts to hurt. It's suffocating.

In any second, you and I will be separated. I know that. And I also know that the final touch will hurt.

Nothing...

Nothing Beca...

Nothing's going to hurt as much as this final touch. I know that too.

Yet at the same time, I also don't want to let you go. I can't. I can't be the one to let go first. So I need you to let my hand go. To put me out of my misery. And you seem to get it. The pain I'm bearing. So you pull your hand back and put them in your jeans pocket.

And the pain. God, the pain. I have to close my eyes to hold it in. And my lungs... it just stops working. I can't breath. I can't. But I swallow hard to open up my trachea. I can't be broken down. Not right now. Not in front of you. I'm a man. And damn it, I have to stay strong.

So I clench my jaw, my hands, and every muscle in my body. I just stand there stiffly. Afraid that if I move a muscle, or do so much as breathing, I will fall apart.

I need to save my dignity. Once again. Because I'm a man. And I'm thankful that you don't say anything. Maybe you know.

We stay silent for a long while. Until I'm ready. Until I have no any other choice but to be ready.

Still with my eyes close, I open my mouth slightly to inhale. And it is the worst idea ever. As the air fill my lungs; my brain and senses come back to work. Just like that, and my body is being crushed by pain. It hurts everywhere.

But I keep on breathing. I know it will pass. I hope. It has to. Or I won't survive. So I just keep breathing.

"Can we still be friends?" I hear you mutter in barely a whisper.

Again, I swallow and open my eyes. I stare at you with my now teary eyes. You are looking away, couldn't bring yourself to look me in the eyes, rocking your body back and forth anxiously.

It must have been hard for you too. I know. Because we weren't only boyfriend and girlfriend. We were also best friend. Still are. Maybe. I really hope we can be friends. Like that so I can still have you in my life.

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. My body won't give out an answer my brain has. There is this lump, choking and blocking me from talking. So I cough it out as soft as I could and speak. The words though, the words surprise me. And apparently, you too.

"I'm sorry Beca. I can't. I can't see you as friends. Not after everything we've been through."

Certainly, it wasn't the answer I planned to give you. And surely, it wasn't the answer you were hoping for. I can see it in your eyes. So when you open up your mouth, I hurriedly add almost in pleading, "Please understand..."

You close your mouth and nod dejectedly. I can see that you are on the verge of crying too.

And that's it. This is it. It's coming to an end. You simply give me one last faint smile and turn around.

You are heading to the door. As you turn away, I count your steps, Beca. It's painful. One step my heart is breaking. And one more I can feel my hands are shaking. But I keep looking, watching, staring with blurry eyes as I let the love of my life walk away.

The door is closing behind you. And there is nothing more I can do. To change it. To stop the time. To stop the pain. To stop you. Nothing.

Just as the door slammed closed, I can't hold it anymore. And I fall on my knees. Finally giving up to the pain. Eventually surrender to the tears.

You've turned away. And I let you. Turned away. From me. From my love.