When It Rains by everymonday
Chapter Seven: Breaking My Stride
This love isn't good unless it's me and you
Box after box and you're still by my side
The weather is changing and breaking my stride
I know, I know, I know, it's just this day
Tegan and Sara; I Know I Know I Know
The ring of the phone wakes William from his slumber. He gropes for the phone blindly with one hand and the lamp switch with the other, all while wondering who on earth could be calling him at this hour. He's too slow, and the phone stops ringing as soon as his hand finds it.
He blinks lazily and squints at the clock. It's 4:04AM, which means it's 8:04PM where she is, assuming she's where he left her, which knowing Lizzy, isn't a safe assumption at all.
With the phone in his hand, he falls back on the pillows. He doesn't look at the phone just yet, choosing instead to hold onto hope that it's her that's calling him, perhaps calling to tell him that she forgives him, that she wants to start over with him, that she loves him back. He'd settle for maybe calling him to hear his voice, the way he often longs to hear hers. It's impossible, of course. His contact information has changed over the years, and apparently, so has hers.
Then again, he's a lot easier to find than she is. He's practically a celebrity these days, but Lizzy Bennet? She's disappeared off the face of the goddamn planet, it feels like. William has heard little of her whereabouts since they parted ways all those years ago. He knows, though, that if she wanted to find him, she'd be able to. Lizzy Bennet has always been resourceful. So he can only assume that she doesn't want to find him, and he's trying to respect that and move on with his life like he promised he would.
It's just that he can't help that every time he closes his eyes, he sees her pretty face, her stubborn hair, her fierce eyes – the ones he could never look away from, never walk away from. Her eyes, and hers alone, witnessed his emotional explosion that day. It tied her to him in a way that neither of them could have possibly foreseen. Everything he had been keeping to himself, everything he hid from others, every word and emotion he had swallowed down since his mother died…it all erupted.
He knows now, years later, that he had really just been a ticking time bomb, and it was only a matter of time before an explosion would occur. William understands now that he had picked a fight with her that day just hoping for an excuse to lash out. He also knows it could have happened in front of no one else but her. No other girl – no other person – had the power to make him fall apart like that.
Only Lizzy.
All he can think is that he doesn't know why he's even out here.
It repeats in his mind on a loop, and he knows the only way it'll stop is if he figures it out, but he really doesn't know.
There had been a week and a half of beautiful, warm sunshine, a week and a half of successfully ignoring Lizzy (as successful as one can be when trying to ignore a girl who had a very strong personality and shared three classes with him). Then, out of nowhere, the sky opens up and it pours.
It's raining almost as hard as the day he arrived here. He's standing on his porch, for reasons that are completely lost to him now, when she walks by in the raincoat and boots he recognizes from the first time he'd seen her. He won't admit that he's been standing here watching the water fall from the sky for the past twenty minutes because he's been waiting for her. He won't.
Today she's not dancing, simply walking at a rather brisk pace. She doesn't even notice him until he finds his voice and shouts at her.
"Lizzy!"
Her head jerks in his direction, confusion written all over her face. Her dark hair is matted to her forehead, and she has to squint because water droplets are dripping from her long eyelashes into her eyes that he swears are the same color as the sky today. Lizzy hesitates for a few seconds before walking up to where he's standing under the protection of his roof.
"What are you doing?" she asks, crossing her arms. The rubber of her raincoat makes ugly noises at the movement.
"I could ask you the same thing," he replies.
She scowls at him. "Well, I asked you first."
William doesn't think that's a good enough reason to have to answer, so he doesn't.
Lizzy shakes her head; her mouth is a thin line. "I don't know why you're suddenly talking to me now."
Neither does he, honestly. He had been doing so well. "Where's your stupid, pink umbrella?"
"At home." Her scowl deepens and her eyes flash dangerously.
"It's raining."
"Excellent observation, Darcy."
He can never tell if she's purposely annoying or if it's just a personality trait that can't be helped, like a medical condition or something. He doesn't know which he'd prefer. "Why didn't you bring it?"
She shrugs. "Because I like walking in the rain."
"Why?"
"What's not to like?"
"Everything."
"So go back inside," she turns her back to him and begins to walk away.
William has to take a few minutes to decide what his next course of action will be. He certainly can't go inside now, as he doesn't want her to think she has any say over what he does and doesn't do. Then again, if he follows her, that might seem like he wants to talk to her, which he doesn't.
She's far away by the time he makes up his mind to go after her, and he has to run to catch up to her.
The sound of his slightly heavy breathing and footsteps on the pavement is probably what makes her stop and face him. They stand on the sidewalk, soaking wet, glaring at each other.
He doesn't know why he's even out here.
"What do you want?" she asks, her voice is shaky.
William notices her eyes are red and she's sniffling. He realizes some of the wetness on her face isn't from the water falling from the sky. He should have just gone inside.
He doesn't know why he's even out here.
"Well?" she demands, throwing her arms up. "What did you leave the comfort of your porch for?"
There's a tremble in her fingers, a tremor in her voice, and the sadness written on her face is clear like the tears running down her cheeks, despite her attempts to mask it with anger. He wants so badly to find something to say, but he can't find the words and his voice doesn't seem to be working anyway. He just stares.
"Just go away, Darcy. You couldn't possibly understand what I'm doing even if I told you." Her shoulders go limp and she gives one last sniffle before turning around again.
He doesn't know why he's even out here.
"Why are you so moody all the time?" He asks suddenly, recklessly. William knows this is a dangerous question that will piss her off. It's a question she probably won't answer, which is fine because it's not really an answer that he's seeking. He just wants a reaction that's better than the spiritless ones he's been getting.
She sucks in a breath loudly and turns on her heel to face him. "What?"
"You are," he insists. "At least once a week, you walk around with a stick-"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence! I am not the one-"
"The fact that you're so defensive about it says a lot about the truth behind my-"
"You want to talk about me being moody? You're the one with a permanent scowl on your face! You're the-"
"Oh, I have the scowl? This is coming from someone-"
"-that sits with the nicest boy in school at lunch but never even talks. You-"
"-glares daggers at anyone who-"
"-talk to anyone! I don't know how things were back in England, or if your mother ever taught-"
Her words hit a nerve, and that nerve shatters into a million, trillion pieces. "My mother died!"
His voice is loud and crystal clear. It breaks in the middle of the last word, but other than that, there's been no quiver. You'd almost think that he had this planned all along.
He hadn't.
He doesn't know why he's even out here.
There's a strange sense of a weight being lifted off his chest, making it easier for him to breathe. It feels perhaps like he's been a teapot set on a hot stove for the past few weeks, and he's finally able to give off a loud, screeching whistle to announce he's had enough, enough, enough of this heat.
Half of him is relieved that it's out there, and the other half of him is screaming that there is no way this can be taken back now. Every cell in his body feels heightened and alive for the first time in weeks. He's aware of every movement he makes. He can feel his lungs expand to take in more air, his fingers twitch ever so slightly in anticipation, and his eyes study hers for something that he won't be able to identify until he sees it.
The look on her face tells him that she can't believe he said that anymore than he can.
William doesn't know what compelled him to say it, but it makes her stop, and maybe that's why he said it in the first place. He's sure that Lizzy thinks she knows everything, she thinks she knows who he is and what he's going through, but she has no fucking clue. Maybe he said it because, for once, he'd like her to be the one that's shocked and confused and in a situation where she has no stable footing.
Maybe that's twisted, but maybe he doesn't care.
Maybe he said it because he can't stand the fact that he hasn't said it. It's on his mind every single fucking day, but he hasn't been able to say it out loud to anyone yet.
Maybe he says it because he just wants her to know.
He doesn't know why he's even out here.
"About a month and a half ago," he continues when it's clear she's not going to say anything and when he's absolutely sure he has control over his voice. "We moved here a week after she died, the day after her funeral."
She blinks twice. "I'm sorry."
Her voice holds no emotion and her face is as readable as a blank slate.
William doesn't know what reaction he was expecting from her, but he expected more than this. If he had told any of the other girls, he's almost sure they would have tried to hug him and comfort him, but all he gets from her is an apology? "I just told you where my mother is like you wanted and all you have to say is that you're sorry?"
"What else do you want me to say?" She uses the sleeve of her raincoat to wipe at her eyes. "Are you looking for pity? Is that what you-"
"Of course that's not what I want!" he shouts at her.
"Well, then I don't know why-"
"My mother died!"
"I heard you the first time! Stop yell-"
"So act like it!"
"I don't know what kind of reaction you want from me!"
"Something better than this!"
"This is all I have! I don't know why you even told-"
"Because you asked me where my mother is!" He's red in the face from yelling, but so is hers.
Lizzy looks shocked. She stands in front of him, her chest rising and falling at an uneven pace. Neither of them says a thing, the raining is beating down on their heads, and off in the distance, thunder rumbles. Finally, Lizzy announces, "I'm going to the park."
"The park?" he repeats incredulously.
"Yes." She peers at him cautiously. "Do you want to come?"
He nods and begins to follow her. William feels like his senses are heightened now that he's had some sort of release. The raindrops feel lighter on his skin, the sound of the ground crunching beneath his shoes is louder, the smell of citrus and flowers is stronger.
They say nothing for the first five minutes of the walk. Lizzy looks straight ahead and quietly asks, "How did she die?"
William swallows. "She was in a car accident."
"So it was sudden." It's not so much a question, as a statement.
"Yes," he affirms anyway.
"Why did you move here so soon after she died?"
"My father wanted it." He sighs. "My father had been planning to expand the company. It wasn't supposed to happen for another year or so, when I was away at Oxford, but then my mum died, and he saw no reason to stay in London anymore."
"But the business in London…"
"It's being run by my uncle. It was supposed to be that dad continues to run the office in London and my uncle the one here. My dad was to travel a lot here in the beginning, to help with the expansion, but mainly he'd be in London. My mum didn't want to leave London. Then there was a car accident, and my dad chose to see it as an opportunity, rather than a tragedy."
"He had no ties to London?"
"Of course he did. He's just very ambitious. He's also an opportunist. He saw an opportunity, and he took it. Simple as that."
"What about you and your sister?"
He shrugs. "We were expected to follow."
"Oh. That…sucks."
"Nicely put," he snorts.
"I'm sorry."
"Yes, you've said that already."
"Well, what else is there to say?" She looks exasperated.
"Nothing, I guess," he concedes. Her reaction is starting to make more sense. There's really nothing to say.
They sit silently side by side on the swings at the vacant park. The rain is still pouring down their heads.
"You don't have to stay, you know," Lizzy says, tilting her head back. "You look bored."
William wonders how she'd know how he looks since her eyes are closed. "Why did you invite me here?"
"Why did you come?" she challenges. When he's silent, she gives in and answers his question softly. "I invited you because…because I can't tell you anything to make you feel better about your mom dying. I'm not going to feel sorry for you. I know you don't want that. I'm just going to treat you like I normally would, and normally, I guess I'd invite you to come here with me."
He allows the words to be poked and prodded in his mind, searching for some fault in her logic, but finds none. Her eyes are still closed and her head is angled at the sky, so he feels safe when he openly studies her face, which is still blank. Against his own will, he finds himself more grateful than annoyed with Lizzy.
"What made you come here?" His voice sounds tired, but maybe it's really his mind that's tired of his voice.
"I needed to get out of my house," she answers simply.
He wants her to elaborate, but he thinks he understands without her doing so. After all, almost every one of his visits to this park has been because he needed to get out of his house too.
"My mom's going to sell a bunch of my dad's books." She says this softly, and her face remains unchanged except for the very subtle wrinkle in her brow. William thinks he may be paying too much attention to her face if he can notice something that small, so he looks away just as she continues to speak.
"He had this huge library, back at our old house. It was filled with books and just so… beautifully cluttered. I remember I'd go in there to get away from all the yelling. I would just sit there with him, and we'd both stare at each other, and I'd breathe in the smell of books and cigars."
She swallows audibly. He can hear it over the pitter-patter of the rain. "I can't smell a library book without thinking of my dad." The metal links in the chain clink and he's guessing that she's shifting around, though he's not looking at her. "Anyway, my mom sold a lot of the books after he died, mainly because she couldn't look at them without crying a river, but we kept all the first editions. Now she wants to sell those too."
He hazards a peek at her. Lizzy has her eyes open now, staring at something in the distance that he can't see. "They're worth a lot, and we could really use the money. Mom says it's not like he's coming back to read them, and I just blew up at her. We got into this awful fight about it. That's why I left."
Lizzy takes a deep breath, and he can see that her lip is quivering. "It just feels like we've sacrificed so much, and the books are all I really have left of him, just books and memories. Jane says we don't have to sell all the first editions. She's always been a peace maker."
She quickly turns away from him, and he can hear a sob escape from her throat.
He sits there, on the swing, listening to the rain fall and listening to Lizzy Bennet try to pretend like she isn't crying, until the two sounds mingle together. William feels uncomfortable and has no idea what to do in this situation.
He raises his arm, perhaps to pat her on the shoulder and say something meaningless like, "There, there," but he changes his mind. His arm hangs in midair and the words die before they really had a chance.
William wonders how long they've been here, and knows he should probably get home since he has a piano lesson at some point this afternoon. He rises off the swing, and looks down at Lizzy, not sure what to do with her.
She looks at him with red-rimmed eyes.
"Come on," he says gruffly, before he starts walking toward his house.
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to get sick if I stay in this rain any longer."
Silence is her response, and though he continues walking, he takes smaller steps to give her time to make up her mind about following him.
Eventually she does, and they walk to his house in an almost-comfortable silence.
She looks a bit unsure when they approach his door, and he can't help but feel a tiny bit smug for finally being able to shake her confidence.
"William!" Mrs. Reynolds exclaims as soon as he opens the door. "What happened?"
"I lost my umbrella," he lies easily, gesturing for Lizzy to enter when she simply stands on his porch, looking doubtful.
"What were you doing in the rainstorm at all?" she asks, rushing to take his coat. "You and your friend need to get out of those wet clothes. You'll both catch your death!"
"That's really alright," Lizzy says, reaching for the doorknob. "I should really just go home."
"Did you drive here?" Mrs. Reynolds has her hands on her hips as she accesses Lizzy's appearance.
"No," Lizzy replies slowly. "But it's really not-"
"Absolutely not! We'll get you dry and then have Nathan drive you home, dear. Lizzy, right? We met outside a few weeks ago?"
"Yes." Lizzy bites her lip. "I really-"
"William, go get your friend some dry clothes while I go find some towels."
He sighs and motions for her to follow him. When she hesitates, he says, "Let's go."
"It's really not necessary. I don't need-"
"She won't let you leave, so let's get this over with." He doesn't know why she's even protesting so much. Most girls would love this.
"Why did you even bring me here?" she mutters, although she starts moving her feet.
"You're the one that came in," he smiles, happy that their roles seem to have reversed and she's the one that is uncomfortable.
She's quiet as she follows him up the stairs, but just before he opens the door to his room, he hears her mumble, "What else are you supposed to do when someone leads you to their house and opens the door?"
William chooses to ignore her comment as he digs through his dresser for something suitable for her to wear. He pulls out shirt he's never worn and a pair of gym shorts for her.
"The bathroom's that one right there." He points to a door with one hand and hands her the clothes with the other. "There should be some clean towels in there too."
Lizzy is hesitant when she takes the clothes, and she turns back to glance at him several times on her to the bathroom.
As soon as the door shuts, he pulls out another shirt for himself. He's just got his head through when there's a soft knock at the door.
"William?" Mrs. Reynolds calls from the other side.
William quickly pulls his arms through the shirt and kicks the quilt further under his bed before calling for the housekeeper to enter.
"I've got extra towels and a bag for Lizzy to put her wet clothes in. Do you need anything else?"
"No, thank you."
"Shall I cancel your piano lesson today?"
"My father will be angry if I miss it," he says, though he knows that's not an answer.
"It starts in half an hour. Your instructor will be here soon."
His eyes widen. William had not been aware that he'd been gone that long.
Mrs. Reynolds reads his expression easily. "Are you sure you don't want me to cancel it?"
"No, thank you." He doubts he'll be able to perform well today though.
"Miss Georgiana should be back from her play date with Miss Alyssa-" Mrs. Reynolds stops when she sees Lizzy open the door of the bathroom. "Hello, dear. Feel better now that you're all dry?"
Lizzy blushes. She looks absolutely ridiculous in his clothes. The shorts he let her borrow fall to her mid calf and the plain green shirt hangs on her body in a way that's as flattering as a potato sack. "Yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Reynolds looks between him and Lizzy and then nods. "I will leave you two alone. Do let me know or Nathan know when you are ready to go home, Lizzy."
William picks up a clean towel from the stack the housekeeper left, pulls a pair of pants from his dresser, and walks to the bathroom.
Lizzy moves out of his way, but still looks unsure.
"You can sit down over there." He jerks his head in the direction of his desk chair and goes into the bathroom without watching to see if she actually does.
He dries his hair with the towel as best he can and peels off his wet shoes, socks, and pants before putting on the dry pair. When he emerges from the bathroom, he suddenly realizes something.
Lizzy is the first girl he's brought to his room without the intention of kissing. He's had a total of four girls in his room, excluding Lizzy, and every single one of them ended up under him, on top of him, or next to him, glued to his lips and in varying states of undress. William feels his face heat up as he looks at Lizzy, who is sitting innocently in his chair, looking around his room with a curious expression on her face.
The idea of kissing her does odd things to his stomach, and he can't say it's exactly unpleasant. It's not pleasant either though.
"My father didn't bring any of my mother's things over from London. The things that the servants at home did ship, he shipped back because he said we didn't need them anymore." William tells her that so that he has something to get his mind off of the idea of his lips on hers.
"So you don't have anything of hers?"
Her response is unexpected, and he can't read the expression she's wearing on her face.
"I have a quilt, and a few photographs somewhere."
She doesn't ask him why he doesn't have the pictures in his room, and he's glad, because he doesn't know if he can answer that.
"You going to go back to ignoring me tomorrow?" Lizzy asks him, inspecting her nails with false fascination.
"Do you want me to?"
Lizzy shrugs. "Whatever."
William can't tell if she's indifferent or just really good at playing indifferent. "This doesn't make us friends."
"What does it make us then?"
He doesn't have an answer to that either, so he hands her the bag Mrs. Reynolds brought. "You can put your wet clothes in here."
She stands to take the bag from him. William notices that she's tied the excess of the shirt into a knot so that it fits her better. He also notices that her wet bra has left alluring water spots on the shirt and has to force himself not to stare.
"No one likes you, you know," Lizzy says once she's done putting her clothes away.
Of all the things he expects her to say, that certainly isn't one of them. He tells her so.
"Well, it's true."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"So you know how lucky you are to have me." She gives him a cheeky grin.
William rolls his eyes. "I have plenty of girls to choose from."
"You've chosen none of them." Lizzy reminds him. "They hate you for it."
"However will I sleep?"
She looks stunned for half a second, but then she throws her head back and laughs. "Is that a joke, Darcy? God, I haven't heard you crack one…ever!"
Almost against his own will, he finds himself smirking. "No, I'm quite serious, Lizzy."
"Right. That's all you ever are." She shakes her head at him, her lips still curved up.
William begins to feel uncomfortable with the uncharted direction of their conversation. He clears his throat. "You ready to leave? I have a piano lesson soon."
"Okay. Thanks for…" She trails off uncertainly.
"Don't mention it," he replies, having no need for her to finish her sentence. "My driver will take you home. Just go down the stairs and turn left. Mrs. Reynolds should be in the kitchen."
"I can just walk home."
He shakes his head. "It's still raining."
"I know, but-"
"My driver will take you home," he insists as he opens the door for her.
She raises an eyebrow. "Why do you suddenly care now? Are we friends?"
"Hardly." He scoffs. "I told you, I have my choice of friends and-"
Lizzy snorts. "Like you could find one as cool as me."
William lays in his bed, in his room that smells ever so slightly like citrus and flowers, and he thinks that being friends with Lizzy Bennet wouldn't exactly be the worst thing in the world.
