6

Come & Go

Letters, postcards, yellow padded packages that rattled in her hands. None of them opened, none of the read.
It was bad when the letters came everyday. It was worse when they stopped.
Sometimes she laid them out on the carpet like tarot cards, like Wonka bars, and wondered whether it was too late.

Of course it was too late.
She hadn't spoken so much as called him since the night she left.
Since the last time she saw him, his green-yellow eyes and his honey skin.
Since the last time she ever laid eyes on the sun.
Since she told him goodbye for what she knew would be the last time.
But that was all twenty-six years ago.

They were different people back then.
Yet at the same time, they were still Eleanor and Park.

Eleanor set the box containing all that was left of him on the carpeted floor and slid it into her closet.
She didn't have the strength to throw any of him away.
Partly because she still missed him and saw him every time she heard Joy Division or Aerosmith playing. But mostly because she figured he was already sick of her by now, and if that was the truth, than she couldn't let go without holding onto what was left of them in her life.

Because Park wasn't a boyfriend, he was a champion.
And they weren't going to break up. Or get bored. Or drift apart. (They weren't going to become another stupid high school romance.) They were just going to stop.
And even if Park wasn't sick of her by now, Eleanor figured he probably hated her at this point. That he despised her for leaving him without so much as a word for all those months before finally sending him nothing but a postcard with only three words scrawled across the white stationary.

She still remembered that day.
The day she wanted to believe even for just five seconds that there was something more than just what life gave you.
For the one moment, she wanted to believe there was something as impossible as hope.
For her mom.
For Maisie.
For Ben.
For Mouse.
For Little Richie.
Even for herself.
But most of all, for Park.
For them.
For what and all that they were.
For them and the future.

In that one moment all those years ago, she let herself believe in hope.
In possibility.
In the small sliver of chance that she would see him again, even if it was only long enough for her to tell him she was sorry.
She left him with only three words because it was all she had left to spare.
It was all she could give him now, (which was fairly pathetic considering he saved her life).
She could never repay him.
But she was his, and he was hers.

To have and to hold. Not forever-maybe not forever, for sure-and not figuratively. But literally. And now. Now he was hers and she was his.
And she wouldn't want it any other any.

Writing that postcard all those years ago, Eleanor let all everything that happened in that one year wash over her in those three words.
All that he gave her.
All that they did.
Everything they were together.
It had all come pouring out of her and onto the stationary.
Those three words were all that had been left of her.

Maybe there was a chance and maybe there wasn't.
But Eleanor wasn't holding her breath anytime soon.
She wasn't holding onto anything but the words she left him with.
Nothing but the lies and broken promises they had made.

But even so...
As Eleanor sat slumped against the back of her creaky desk chair, she couldn't help but allow her dark eyes to drift to the pale, half-opened closet door all the while wondering in some forgotten part of her mind whether it was too late.

Eleanor's nostrils stung with the stench of the black trash bag she lugged over her shoulder.
She kicked at the heavy door, chipping away at the fading green it was painted, with the toe of her converse and stepped out into the alleyway where the dumpsters sat between Barnes & Noble and the brick structure of the pizzeria next door.

She lifted the lid to the grey, creaky dumpster and shoved the trash bag in, slamming the lid closed.
Eleanor then took a few steps down the alley until she could just see the parking lot peeking around the corner when she leaned on the cement building.
She took a whiff of the air, trying to clear her senses of the pungent odor of rotting garbage while she watched the people come and go from the bookstore.

Somewhere in the midst of the mostly-vacant parking lot, a blue book donation bin for children's charity caught Eleanor's eye.
She couldn't fathom why their manager didn't just donate all their unsold books rather than tear them to shreds in the backroom. It was a terrible and despicable waste of literature if you asked Eleanor. And it was then that she vowed to smuggle the crates of unsold books over to the donation bin whenever she got the chance. Cath would help her. She seemed like the honest and generous type. Plus Eleanor was fairly certain that Cath was at least a little terrified of her. And how could she blame her? The first words Eleanor uttered to Cath were curses after all.

Still, she trusted that she could count on her for the help.
Eleanor laughed in spite of herself, and allowed a smile to take shape in her lips even for only a moment.
They could be like Batman and Robin. Fighting the crimes against innocent books and protecting them from those whose hands were dirty with the evidence.

Taking one last inhalation of sweet, fresh air, Eleanor spun on the heel of her yellow converse, kicking gravel up as she did, and turned to go. Only to whirl back around to face the parking lot when her gaze locked and focused on the woman with long, wavy brown hair cascading down her back as she flipped it over her shoulder.
She had curves to her hips that had flattened out over the years under the grey pantsuit she wore. In her hand she held a paper Starbucks coffee cup and in the other, a leather case. She had a round face and a hard, mean stare to her brown eyes. And the sight of them caused Eleanor's heart to halt mid-beat while her breathing ceased.
Because the last time she saw those eyes was twenty-six years ago.
When the woman-who now began to cross the parking lot to reach her vehicle-was no more than eight years of age.

Eleanor stood there open-mouthed, watching the woman enter her car and speed away, leaving Eleanor in the dust with years worth of words hanging on the edge of her lips.
But Eleanor understood.
Because, of all people, she was the one who knew very well that people come and go.
And seeing that woman, made Eleanor wonder for the third time that day whether it was too late.

Hi guys!

Sorry this chapter took awhile, I really didn't consider how difficult it would be to write three stories at once:P But I am not giving up on any one of them I promise! I absolutely love writing and posting each and every one of my fanfics!:)

Okay, a special thank you goes out to the wonderful riversong and fantastic freezeon98 for their amazing reviews! Thanks guys! They mean a lot!:)
And to riversong; Believe me, you are definitely not the only one who has a major crush on ParkXD He is my one true fiction-boyfriend, aside from Augustus Waters, and Four and a bunch of other guys from moviesXD So yeah, there is no shame in being a crazed and probably perverted fangirl over here!:) I am proud to admit my weird and quirky obsessions!

Okay, hoped you all liked this chapter, more to come soon! And does anyone want to guess who the woman that Eleanor saw was?:) Leave your answer in the reviews!

-birdywings