Hello! Both sburke94 and I have been on vacation. She's still away, but I have her piece from 2x02. We decided to do a whole combination of all the scenes from the amazing kiss episode, so here's sburke94 with Ezra!

When she gets back and watched 2x03, we'll pick a scene and write!

Review!


Confusion—2x02

If I wasn't so confused right now, I'd have a perfect solution. A fix-all, end-all answer that would put you right back into my arms—right back to where you belong.

But as things stand currently, I don't. I'm confused and you're…hurt? Angry? Sad? I'm confused about that too. Your signals are so mixed. Normally, I can read you so well. With this however, I just can't—and it's killing me.

Funny, this job at Hollis was supposed to make things easier. It's only gotten harder. There used to be moments early on when I'd questioned if the difficulty of our relationship was worth it. It was. It is.

But now that I know I'll give anything for you, be anything for you, every bump in the road is that much more painful. And walking into that empty apartment was certainly painful. I can't blame you though.

You waited. You waited three hours and you did try. I've tried too, Aria. Will everything never be enough?

Sorry we couldn't make this work.

I'm sorry too. Sorry because I'm confused, sorry because I can't find the switch that'll flip us back to the way we were. But I'm not sorry we can't make things work—because we can fix this. We have to fix this.

I'm still confused when I give my farewell speech. Not so much about what I'm saying as to who I'm saying it to. Theoretically, and for all appearances, I'm addressing the class. In reality, I'm pouring my heart out to you.

Is this my last ditch effort? I hope not, because it's fairly obvious that you're not listening. So I move closer with each line I speak, hoping against hope that proximity will help.

I didn't expect to connect the way I have. I didn't expect to feel this loss.

Your head tilts towards me the merest fraction of an inch and I think maybe, just for a fleeting second, I've gotten your attention. You're picking up on the underlying message in those last two sentences, aren't you?

I'm losing the connection with you.

This feeling right now, it's like I'm dangling off the edge of a proverbial cliff—it's do or die—it's forever or nothing.

You must give up the life you had planned in order to have the life that is waiting for you.

I suppose that quote would be more applicable if I knew for a fact you would indeed be waiting for me after I pack up my desk and wipe the chalkboard down for the last time. But you're not even waiting a few minutes past the bell. It rings and you're the first one out the door. Perhaps we really can't make this work—at least not when one of us has already given up.

You've quit, I can see it in the deep color of your eyes. And in a moment of clarity, I realize that I'm quitting just a little bit too. Then the confusion sinks back in and I'm back to puzzling out what else can possibly be said to change your mind.

Later that afternoon as I pop open my trunk and lean down to put the last of my stuff into the car, I wonder if maybe there's nothing to be said. You apparently think otherwise as you come flying out the school doors and shot my name. Ezra. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

Suddenly, the box is gone from my arms and you're in them. And I don't care how it happened, or why it happened, or that I'm currently experiencing the best kiss of my life in a high school parking lot. All that matters is that in this moment we are us again. Us without hurtful words. Us without a painful past. Us without confusion.

Us. Aria and Ezra. Ezra and Aria. You and Me. Me and You. Us.