"Everything I do is bittersweet. You could tell me secrets that I'd probably repeat. I'm not trying to hurt you. I just love to speak."
-"Bittersweet" Panic! At The Disco
"I've always wanted to be an author." Clare tells me and I study her. "Is that right?" I ask, grinning and she nods, her curls bouncing slightly. We are both sitting together on the hotel room's bed, flipping through magazines when she tells me this.
"Why an author?" I ask and she looks at me as though the answer is obvious. "Because I enjoy writing."
I laugh and say "Is that right?" sarcastically.
"Writing is a risky business." She cranes her neck to stare up at me. "How so?" she asks me, curiosity dancing within those eyes I have grown so accustomed to seeing every day. "What if you don't get published?"
She scoffs. "Are you implying that my writing is bad?" she says playfully and I grin again. "I wouldn't know. You never let me read anything." She breaks away from my eyes and presses her cheek to my chest again. "Maybe someday." she murmurs and I smile.
"What did you want to be when you grew up?" she says and I lean my head against the back of the bed and allow my thumb to rub circles on her back. "I wanted to be an English teacher." I remember and lick my lips. "I wanted to help the next generation learn more about proper literature rather than spend all their time in front of the damn T.V." Clare giggles. "True" she agrees and looks up at me again. "But you are helping the next generation. You're protecting them from harm." I wave my hand sarcastically. "Saving their lives versus teaching them about good literature. C'mon Clare. Is it really a contest?" We both laugh together, and Clare stops to yawn.
"Tired?" I ask her and she nods. I continue rubbing her back with my hand. "Go to sleep." I tell her. "We meet with Adam, Drew and Simpson tomorrow." She mumbles something about not being sleepy and wraps her arms tightly around me. I chuckle. "I'll still be here." I say, mimicking the words after our first kiss. I feel her smile fondly against me, and I know she remembers. Her hand reaches for her old purity ring on my necklace and she rubs it happily before dropping her fingers into my palm. "Promise?" she asks me softly.
"I promise." I tell her, and she speaks no more.
After about fifteen minutes, I ease Clare off of me to use the restroom. But as I wash my hands, I notice that my shirt is stained with small water droplets around my chest and frown. I examine them further, and realize that they are tears. She was crying.
She was crying.
. . .
I can't sleep for the rest of the night, and apparently, neither can Clare. She wakes up around three a.m and sees my wide eyes. "What are you doing still awake?" she asks me. I ignore the question. "Why were you crying." The pain of knowing that she is silently suffering is eating me up inside and finally I can't hold it in anymore. I need to know why she is hurting, and why she can't share it with me.
Her gaze falls downwards, and my stomach clenches uneasily. "It's just my dad. I'm worried about him. He's somewhere out there, and my mom is-"
"Liar." I state and she looks at me. "You won't look at me when you talk. What's really wrong Clare?" She doesn't answer, but through the darkness I see her chin tremble. I wrap my arms around her. "What's wrong?" I ask again, softer and soothingly this time. Now, I feel her hot tears fall onto my shoulder. "I'm an awful human being." she whispers, and it seems like she is saying it more to herself than to me. "No, you're not." I state confidently. She rips herself out of my arms and flings her body onto the bed. "I'm a monster." She sobs into the comforter and I touch her back. "Is it because of what we did last night?" I ask hesitantly. Clare sits up immediately. "No. Oh God no." she cries out and cups my face in her hands. "Eli, you have done absolutely nothing wrong." she says to me. "All of this is my fault."
I look at her in confusion. "Clare, what are you talking about?" I touch her hands on either side of me face. Her face is rigid and solemn, like she is at a funeral. "Would you ever regret loving me?" she asks in a low voice. "What? No, of course not." I say. She pulls her body closer to mine and sits on my lap, her legs on either side of my waist. "No matter how horrible I am?" she asks, her face close to mine.
I stare into her eyes and realize that she is having a mini panic attack. Her hot breath comes out in short huffs and it tingles my lips because she is so close. "No matter how horrible you are Clare Diana Edwards, I will always love you. Nothing will change that." I press my lips against hers and she kisses me with a fiery passion that I have not known. She pushes her chest against mine and wraps her legs around me and I let out a low groan. "Clare…" I murmur and she pulls away.
"I'm not Clare." she states and I know that now we are back to me trying to decipher Clare's cryptic words. "You're not?" I ask and she shakes her head and peels her body away from mine. "I'm a monster. Monsters don't have names. They don't need them." She crawls under the covers and pulls her knees to her chest like a child. "Why don't monsters need names?" I ask and her chuckle comes out dry and hollow, like a piece of her is missing. "Clare" I say her name. "Answer me." I can see her silhouette turn and look at me. Her eyes are glassy with tears.
"I can't answer you." she says. "Monsters don't talk. They just destroy." And Clare Edwards, the monster speaks no more. She simply closes her eyes and falls asleep, exhaustion finally taking it's toll. I collect her limp body in my arms and wipe the tears from her cheeks. "You're not a monster." I whisper to her, hoping her subconscious can hear me. "You're the most beautiful human being I have ever known." And I fall asleep with her body against mine, listening to her now calm breathing.
. . .
The first thing I notice when I wake up is that Clare is not by my side. "Clare?" I call out to the hotel room. "In the bathroom." she answers. "Are you okay?" I ask slowly. "I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" my eyebrows slant downwards and I climb out of bed, changing into a pair of jeans and black shirt. "Do you not remember last night?" I say confusedly. "Uh…Can we not talk about this right now?"
I pull on my blazer and walk over to the bathroom. "Clare, you are acting really-" I choke on the rest of my sentence and silence falls onto the room like poisonous gas.
Agent Coyne is standing behind Clare, his arm securing her body and a gun pointed to her temple. "Morning Agent Goldsworthy. Care to take a walk?" I bite my lip and look at Clare, whose eyes are wide with fear. I attempt to stay calm for her sake. "Agent Coyne." I acknowledge. "What are you doing here?"
Coyne laughs, and Clare winces, like it is causing her physical pain every time he moves. "I think it's fairly obvious what I'm doing here, but if you need a further explanation, come with me."
"Sure" I answer. "Just let Clare go." Agent Coyne smirks before slowly walking past me and opening the door. "I don't think so Goldsworthy. C'mon. We'll go to the roof. Everyone is just dying to see you." I gulp, wondering who "everybody" is before saying "And if I don't?"
Agent Coyne looks mildly surprised, as though he wasn't expecting that to be an option. "Then I kill her," he gestures with his chin towards Clare. "And then I kill you."
My breathing slows. "You wouldn't kill her. Edward's wouldn't allow it." But Coyne stares at me with an intensity so strong I break his gaze, and when I look back, flecks of insanity dance in his eyes. "Do you want to take that chance?" He asks, smirking. He already knows the answer, and so do I.
We board the elevator quickly, making sure no one sees us, before taking the first door on the left labeled "ROOF: EMPLOYEES ONLY" I climb the steps and when I open the door, the sunlight blinds me momentarily. As I adjust, Adam's voice calls my name. "Goldsworthy!" he yells and I see that he is with Drew and Simpson. "Guys!" I begin walking over to them, but Agent Martin blocks my path. "I don't think so." he says smugly and pushes me back toward Coyne.
I look around me and see some vaguely familiar faces. Agent Milligan, Agent Desousa, a young female agent that I cannot seem to recognize, and Edwards standing in front of them as their leader. "Welcome, Mr. Goldsworthy" he says, smiling. "Edwards" I spit out. "How did you find us?" he wags a finger dangerously close to my face. "Ah ah ah. Do not disrespect me young man. Your father made that mistake, and look where he ended up." My fists clench and a low growl rips through me. Edwards smirks, knowing he has hurt me by mentioning my father.
"You've got us here at your mercy." I spit out to Edwards. "What I want to know is how you managed to do so."
Edwards raises his eyebrows in mock surprise and responds "You still don't know? My, my Eli. You're not a very good spy are you?" My heart rate increases when he uses my first name. "How do you know-"
"I mean, really." Edwards continues. "How could you not notice the one person that you thought you loved, was destroying you, right under your nose?"
I blink, and the earth seems to stop as my gaze shifts from Edwards to Clare, who is standing next to Agent Coyne. Her eyes are filled with tears, her face full of apologies.
No.
No.
"Clare" I whisper and she pulls away from Coyne, running towards me quickly. "Eli, I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to be hurt like this." She reaches to touch my hand, but I jerk away. "How could you." I whisper, but it doesn't come out like a question, because I know the answer. She did it because she was an Edwards girl. She did it because I was weak, and an easy target.
My world goes blurry for a moment and I think to myself "This is a dream. It has to be a dream. Clare would never do this." But as I blink repeatedly and attempt to wake myself up, I realize that this is in fact happening.
Edwards voice sounds far away as he laughs. "It was quite easy, wasn't it Clare-bear? Pretend to fall in love with you and you opened up like a vault."
My heart cracks at the word pretend.
She never loved me.
"No" Clare sobs out and I can't bring myself to look in her eyes. "It wasn't all lies Eli. I really do love you."
"Nonsense Clare." Edwards says briskly. "You don't need to keep up the charade any more."
Clare shakes her head furiously. "No, no no! I love you Eli. I do, I promise. They would hurt you if I didn't-"
I laugh without humor. I find my voice, and the pain rips my body apart and travels up my lungs, giving me strength. "So, what? They would hurt me if you didn't tell them every last damn detail? Is that what it is? You were just trying to help me? Well, I can honestly say, you should have saved yourself the effort, because there is no way that any other option could hurt more than this."
Clare's tears are streaming down her cheeks, and no matter how angry I am, I cannot help but still love her. Maybe that was my mistake in the first place. Loving her despite everything.
"You don't love me." I conclude shortly. "No, No Eli I do-"
"No! I yell out, and everyone else on the roof seems to vanish. "If you really loved me, you would have stopped. You would have stopped when I told you that I had been hurt before, when I told you about Julia, you would have stopped if you loved me." She doesn't speak, so I continue.
"You, Clare Edwards, are not a monster." I admit. "But you are, despite my efforts to believe otherwise, an Edwards." Tears leak out of the corner of my eyes, breaking my cold exterior. "And that's pretty damn close."
She chokes out a sob as Coyne walks over and collects her in his arms. Adam moves forward slowly and places his hand on my shoulder, whispering an "I'm sorry" as if that will change everything and make it better.
Edward's looks at all of us, Simpson, Drew, Adam and finally me, and I could have sworn that an expression of guilt flickers in his eyes. "We're not going to kill you." He says finally, and his voice is soft. The members of his team appear shocked. "But sir-" Milligan begins but Edwards puts up a hand and he falls silent. "But we have all the names and descriptions of nearly all the agents on your team, so you're going to have to start over completely, relocate, and find yourself new employees. It will take years to get back to where you are today, and by then you won't have the slightest clue where my team is. We have won, yet again." He smiles in satisfaction, but it appears slightly cracked. "Good day gentleman."
And with that, Edwards wraps an arm around his sobbing daughter, and they exit the roof.
Agent Martin and Agent Milligan are the last to leave, making sure that we all know that we will be shot if we try to follow them. Once they leave, it is just Adam, Drew, Simpson and I.
I turn to them slowly, unable to meet their eyes. "I'm sorry." I whisper. Simpson places a hand on my shoulder. "It's alright" he responds and I look up in confusion. His eyes are filled with acceptance and knowledge that I have failed to see in the past months.
"You knew we were together." I state. Simpson nods sadly. "How?" my question falls out. He smiles, and he appears a hundred years older. "You cannot hide that kind of love." He merely responds.
My legs buckle from underneath me, and I feel a sick sense of deja vu wash over me as I begin to cry. Adam and Drew come closer, sitting on either side of me. They do not talk, they simply hug me and allow me to cry.
The sobs come out quickly, and there is a stab in my heart every time I take a breath. Clare's purity ring hangs around my neck like a broken promise. The wind blows harshly on all of us, but we do not leave the roof. We do not leave because down there, the real world awaits, and you are not allowed to be cry and be vulnerable in the real world. I have made that mistake.
I shake uncontrollably at the thought of the real world that awaits. I think of the CIA, and all of it's workers who will now have to relocate. I think of Adam and Drew, who have spent so long trying to bring down Edwards, only to have me screw it up. I think of Simpson, who must deal with all of my horrible mistakes.
I think of all of these things as I cry on the rooftop, but the main reason for my tears is not the CIA, Adam, Drew, or Simpson.
It is of Clare.
Clare, the girl who used me to help her father, Clare the girl who tricked me, Clare the girl who pretended to love me.
Clare, the girl who I can't help but love now.
Clare, the girl who left my life just as quickly as she came.
And now she is gone. Gone in a similar sense to Julia, but not at all actually. I want to laugh at the insanity of it all, but I'm not sure my body will do anything except cry.
My hands press into the roof's ground and my breathing grows ragged. Eventually, I become silent, my cries tearing the energy out of me. "I'm sorry." I repeat for the final time. Adam offers me a soft smile.
"It's ok." he says.
I feel my chest constrict and my heart cry out in agony at the realization that his statement is a complete and utter lie.
. . .
Fun fact: I teared up a bit while writing this.
Sorry for the late update! Yours truly managed to get sick yet again.
I also apologize if this chapter appears rushed and/or thrown together. I wrote it in about two days and I just really wanted to get it up here.
Sorry for hurting you guys!
-Maya