Based on Halsey's song "Is There Somewhere?"

My second SonAmy story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (:

Is There Somewhere?

There was something about you and I. We always ended up together by the end of the night, and this was no exception. I did not intend to meet you again at the wedding between two of our oldest friends. I had reservations about going, had reservations about bumping into you again. Rouge had told me that you had moved on since I've left, mentioned kindly it didn't take too long for you to do so, as if you never missed me in the first place. I was stupid for thinking you would.

The tears filled my eyes as I saw you across the church, and I quickly looked away. Of course you'd be Knuckle's best man; Rouge did not mention it but I should've known better than to assume you would not be in the wedding show. You always did have a way to get that spotlight.

I sat on the bride's side, just one of my many attempts to stay as far away from you as I possibly could. Hiding behind the tallest person in Rouge's family, I bit my lip, holding back the tears that I knew were destined to fall if I locked my green eyes with yours.

The reception was hard, but I refrained the best I could, making small talk and silently thanking my old friends for considering me when they made the table layouts, the furthest table from yours. I ate slowly, kept my eyes down, and sipped on alcohol from the open bar, the burn in my throat nothing compared to the burn you gave me.

But by the end of the night, I had too much to drink and I knew I'd end up in your arms, or at least wanting to be. Fighting the urge, I drank glass after glass of champagne, drinking enough to hopefully clear my mind or at the very least, pass out somewhere until the reception was over.

But you found me, your big hands reaching out and engulfing my shoulder. Your skin was warm in the way that I couldn't forget, even after eight years of not seeing you.

"Amy?" you asked, and I glanced up.

I'm sure I slurred something similar to "Oh, didn't see you there," but you knew the only time I'd ever get that drunk is if I was trying to avoid you.

You told me it was great to see me again and asked me to dance. I obliged. I would do anything you asked of me. I am sure I asked at some point where your girlfriend is. After all, you started dating Sally only a month after I left.

And you mentioned she couldn't make it, and that you've been thinking about me since I left. I must have looked pretty desperate at that moment, because you smiled and pulled me closer for the slow song.

We danced for what felt like days, and the wedding was nearly over. People were clearing out left and right, but we kept dancing, staring into each other's eyes and letting the world melt behind us.

"I've missed you so much," you uttered to me, and I still don't know if this was real life or a dream. I couldn't tell you how many times I had this dream.

Rouge came up behind me and tapped my shoulder. "Amy, honey, its time to go."

"I'll take her." You looked at her with your eyes, and I knew that those eyes could convince me to do anything. Rouge, however, was not under your spell, and was wary.

She looked at me, and I grinned sheepishly. The room had started to spin and I just needed you to hold me up against the world.

"You better take good care of her, Sonic" she glared at you, "Or there will be hell to pay," and you smirked that smile of yours that always had a way of making me weak in the knees.

"Come with me," you whispered when she was gone, leading me up the most beautiful flight of stairs I have ever seen. I felt like a princess out of the movies, and I know it was because I always thought you were my prince.

You were dancing in your tube socks in our hotel room,

Flashing those eyes like highway signs.

You led me into a hotel room, flinging the door open and letting me stumble in. You ripped off your jacket and shoes, then grabbed my hands again, pulling me into a slow dance again.

I looked up at your eyes, and I knew that regardless of what happened next, I trusted you. Your eyes sparkled in the light, and I felt at home although I was hours away from my house.

You led me onto the balcony and we stared in silence at the beautiful city that I often wish I never left. The wind was chilly but refreshing, and the fresh air was helping my hangover that was just setting in.

Light one up and hand it over, rest your head upon my shoulder.

I just wanna feel your lips against my skin.

You lit a cigarette, took a drag, and handed it to me. I gave up smoking years ago, but when you put your head on my shoulder, I put it to my mouth. The closest my lips have been to yours in years.

I felt your warm breath on my shoulder and I wanted nothing more than to feel you again, to feel you everywhere again.

White sheets, bright lights, crooked teeth, and the night life.

You told me this is right where it begins.

We went back inside the hotel room, and laid back on the mattress, and everything felt eerily like that night eight years earlier. But this night is different, I knew before you could tell me otherwise. This time, I am not disillusioned with the thoughts that you love me, that I mean something, anything to you.

But I'm still a bit tipsy, and, like all tipsy people, my judgment was cloudy. And for you, I was there, I was in front of you, and I was willing.

You smile your crocked smile at me, and I knew I was a goner before you whispered into my ear, "This is right where it begins".

The flashbacks are too much for me to swallow, and as much as I try and fight them, I am brought back to the time when I was a young sixteen and you were nearly eighteen, when I gave you what I had and you took what you wanted.

But your lips hang heavy underneath me.

And I promised myself I wouldn't let you complete me.

You kiss me, and I don't fight you although I know I should. I would never fight you, and I think you know this all too well. The weight of your body is heavy, and the thoughts of who exactly I am hurting floated through my mind, and I shoved them out. I know I'm hurting Sally, but no more than I am hurting myself. And I doubt she showed any sympathy to me in her entire life, so.

"I don't love him," I whispered to myself, just low enough that you wouldn't hear it as you kissed down my body. I've spent so many years falling out of love with you, and I can't let it come racing back to me the first time I see you again.

I'm trying not to let it show, that I don't want to let this go.

When it's all over, I can't help but cry. It was perfect, magical, and I watch you sleeping beside me. I trace the features of your face with my hand, knowing that I must go, that I must let this go. As much as it will destroy me, I have to let you go.

You must've noticed my stirring, because you opened your eyes and looked at me.

"Are you okay?" you asked in reference to the tears staining my cheeks.

"Yes," I lied. I waited for you to fall back asleep before putting my clothes back on, with one last look at you, I walked out of the hotel.

I sped the entire way to the front desk, asked them to call a taxi although I know it sounded more like begging. I threw myself into the yellow car when it arrived, knowing that if I turned around, I would run back to you.

I had nowhere else to go, so I went to Rouge's. I knew she and Knuckles spent the night in the hotel, but I knew where they kept their spare key, and I just needed somewhere to sleep.

I slept on their couch the best a girl who just ruined her life could possibly sleep. I woke up to a text from you at nearly ten in the morning.

Is there somewhere you can meet me?

Rouge and Knuckles arrived home before I found it in me to reply to you. They weren't mad, more like confused, and Rouge told me that I should meet you somewhere before I went back home. She told me it would be the closure I needed to finally move on.

I half-heartedly agreed, but I answered with affirmation because, if nothing else, I just wanted to see you again.

I have to admit I was initially shocked when you suggested the coffee shop that we went to every week when we were younger, but realized I shouldn't be. It wasn't a sign; I had to keep reminding myself that your life didn't change when yours did, that you still lived the same life you did when we were teenagers. I'm the only thing that changed.

'Cause I clutched your arms like stairway railings.

And you clutched my brain and eased my ailing.

You were already there when I arrived. You had two coffees in front of you, and I swore that Sally was going to pop out from behind the counter and attack me for sleeping with her man. Thankfully, she didn't, and you held out the second coffee for me.

"Skim milk and sugar," you told me as if you never forgot, all these years. I guess there are some things you always remember about people. "Three packets."

I smiled weakly, sitting down across from him. Instantly, your hands moved to mine, as if you were letting me down softly.

"I get it," I sighed, not meeting your eyes. "Last night was a mistake. I know that, and I'm leaving as soon as I can."

"That's not what I was going to say," he tried, and ushered to the notebook in front of him.

You're writing lines about me: romantic poetry.

Your girl's got red in her cheeks, 'cause we're something she can't see.

"I started writing again," you told me, and I was surprised. You gave up writing years ago, when Shadow found your blue notebook filled with your poetry and mocked you for months after.

"I'm glad to hear it," I was being genuine, but I silently hoped it came off a bit standoffish and sarcastic.

"About my muse."

"Oh," my words were hard. "Well I'm sure she'd be happy to hear. Does she know?"

"She does now," You said. "I just told her."

I could not manage to utter out anything, but I did attempt something along the lines of, "Does your girlfriend know?"

"No," you looked away from my eyes. "She knew though. She found it once, and threw it away, made me promise to stop. She was infuriated."

"Naturally," I tried avoiding the serious conversation that was looming. "Most girls don't like their men writing about other women." Muses don't always have to be the love interest of the artist, I kept telling myself. Just someone who changed their life a lot.

And I try to refrain but you're stuck in my brain.

And all I do is cry and complain because second's not the same.

The thoughts of you and me flood back to me in a tidal wave, and I tried to refrain from thinking about you.

I think you knew what I was thinking without me being obvious, because you began to rub my hand with your thumb. The tears fell without me wanting them to.

"I'm going to go," I started, but you stopped me.

"Please don't," you urged, holding my hands tightly. "I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay in my life."

That was the most expression I've ever gotten from you, and I swore I could see tears welling in your eyes. Normally, those eyes would be my weakness, but I was coming to terms with it all. How many times have I cried in front of you without you having the slightest sliver of regret or care? Too many.

This was too little too late, so I stood up and I told you, "I'm sorry, but second is not the same."

You were visibly confused. "Wa… wait, what? Second? Amy, what are you talking about?"

I took a deep breath, and, with nothing left to lose, said to him what I've been thinking since he touched me again for the first time in eight years.

"I'm sorry but I fell in love tonight.

I didn't mean to fall in love tonight.

You're looking like you fell in love tonight.

Could we pretend that we're in love?"

You jumped up and grabbed me in your arms, and I hated how good it felt, hated how warm and strong you were, hated how much I missed being in your arms, how I thought about it everyday since I've left, hated how I never moved on from you.

I cried loudly, ignoring how everyone in the café were staring at me like I was some sort of circus act.

I'm sorry but I fell in love tonight.

I didn't mean to fall in love tonight.

You're looking like you fell in love tonight.

Could we pretend that we're in love?

It felt like forever until you let me go, yet it wasn't soon enough to prevent me from falling way back in love with you for the infinite time in my life.

We pulled away, but your hands were still holding me tightly at the shoulders. "Let me go," I demanded, but you just held me tighter in your hands.

"I don't want to pretend that we're in love," you informed me, and, as much as I knew it was coming, it didn't hurt any less.

"I know," I replied. "It was worth a shot."

"Amy…" you started.

"Please, spare me. I know you love someone else."

"No, no, Amy. Please, just hear me out. It's nothing like what you think."

I nodded for you to continue. I have a tendency to speak over people when I'm feeling especially passionate.

"I don't love Sally, I know it sounds crazy, but you leaving really got to me. I didn't know what to do, and she was like a distraction. And I feel terribly that I did that to her, but she did so many terrible things to me that it was like karma. And we broke up a few weeks ago, before the wedding, because I had the faintest thought that you'd be there and we could see what we really are, and I really have figured out who I am and what I want, and I'm so sorry that it took me this long. I wish I realized years ago, and I think I did, truly. I think I knew the morning I woke up that you were the one for me, but then you weren't there, you were nowhere to be seen, and I haven't seen or heard from you since. I problem drank. I lived without fear. I did some pretty terrible things to myself. I just thought that by hurting myself, I could kill the feeling inside of me that I no longer had the best piece of me. So what I'm trying to say is that I don't want to pretend that I love you because I really am in love with you, and I have been for years, and I am sorry I didn't tell you I loved you when I knew I did. I guess I was afraid. But the truth is, I'm not afraid anymore."

I looked up at you with giant doe eyes, and I knew that every piece of me would be whole again if only I had you.

"I love you too."

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I'm new after a hiatus so I want to know if I'm still any good.

You're my favorites. Never change! (:

xoxox, aworldwellneverfind