I wanna talk and laugh like we used to
When I see you in my dreams at night
It's so real, but it's in my mine
S
killet- Don't Wake Me

Eli's POV


I stumbled through the moving boxes, grumbling sleepily. I fumbled for the light switch in the hallway and groaned when the bright lights burned my eyes. Natalie and Kyle were moving out within the next week and I would be heading to Florida. With her. I didn't even want to say that name.

Putting a pot of coffee, I stood at the counter in the kitchen, rubbing my eyes. This was what I wanted, right? I wanted to make her feel awful for leaving me, for saying her career was more important than me. She twirled around in ridiculous costumes for Pete's sake. But, oh, she danced so beautifully - she was beautiful, period.

I shook my head, irritated. This wasn't about her. It was about me. I had to prove myself. This was where I came from, but look how far I've gotten. Without her. Yeah, I would have to subject myself to embarrassment, because I can't dance, but I'm the owner of the Manhattan Tribune; it doesn't matter if I look like an idiot.

"Coffee," Natalie said, inhaling deeply. "I love you, do you know that? I should've never married Kyle. You and I could have been the next William and Dorothy Wordsworth.* I make you food, you make me coffee; we could have been best friends, dear brother."

I bit down on my lip to keep myself from smiling. Natalie was crazy. She cozied up to me. "Aww, come on." I ruffled her hair affectionatley, but said nothing.

"So, you're not going to take me up on my offer?" She questioned, fixing herself a bowl of cereal.

"I'm considering marriage," I replied, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet.

"Oh?" Natalie raised a brow.

"The Musgroves have two eligible daughters." Two women that would never fit my puzzle piece the way she did. But my heart is available regardless. It's available to anyone willing to catch it, except her. "Natalie, I don't even care anymore. I might marry someone, just because I feel like it. A girl between eighteen and twenty seven, who will compliment my amazing good looks, and tell me I'm an awesome journalist; isn't that enough?"

Natalie rolled her eyes and frowned, looking away.

I slammed down my mug. "Why can't I be happy?"

"You can't be happy, because you're lugging around so much bitterness towards Addie," Natalie countered, keeping calm.

I clenched my fists and growled, an unattractive habit I picked up from my father. "She broke off the engagement, Nat. I'm the one who deserves to wallow in pity, bitterness, and cynicism. Not her."

Natalie quietly turned on her heel and put her bowl in the sink. By the way she looked at me before she left, I could read it in her eyes. You still love her.


*William Wordsworth is a romanticism poet, who lived with his sister, Dorothy. I'm not sure why they lived together, but I just always picture her slapping some mayo on a piece of bread and making him a sandwich, while he slaves over his wonderful works. I'm not too fond of his work. :/

Leigh: I wanted to develop Addie as one who is feeling sorry for herself and sees that she was the one who got the short end of the stick. I don't want her to be selfish, but I want her to be so consumed by her thoughts that she's oblivious to the outside world. So, when Natalie walks in, she does notice a familiarity about her, but she just dismisses it. Addie did meet Natalie, but it was a weekend meeting. You know how you might meet someone once, run into them, and know that your remember them from somewhere, but you're not sure where? It kind of bugs you for a little bit, you brush it off, and later it will randomly pop back into your head who it was? I might be the only one who has that problem, but that was the scenario I wanted to have. I hope that makes sense. :)