GOOD TO YOU
•xoxoxo•
Disclaimer: Resident Evil ©CAPCOM | Plot© whitemaigexxvii | Song© Illenium, Annika Wells
Summary: [AU] Jessica Sherawat: the girlfriend. Jill Valentine: the best friend. The lines were set but it was still breached with pain just around the corner. RATED M. Valenfield / Sherafield
•xoxoxo•
Author's Note: And I'm back! Are you guys still with me? I know I've been long gone. Got a serious case of writer's block and work has been hectic and wouldn't let me get some break. It was a literal nightmare. I barely get any sleep. Just my luck, I have to start school again. VERY SOON. But! Good news, tho. While I was gone, I've been writing a lot of fillers for this story. I just have to find a way to make them work together so hopefully it would not take me forever. Moving forward, this chapter is dedicated to my dear friend, OCIMUM and to all of you! Enjoy!
•xoxoxo•
CHAPTER VII
But when the sky went dark
I think I would've known
Before we let it get this far
I should've let you go
•xoxoxo•
"ARE YOU TOGETHER?"
Surprisingly, the question did not bother her as much as it had, anymore. She already became immune to how people view their relationship as something more than platonic. She surmised that maybe it's because she had finally convinced herself that people would never get the full grasp of what they really have. For those people being with each other every time means that there's either something brewing or it already happened. Too bad, no matter how much they see them as two individuals who look perfect together and who would give embodiment to what a perfect couple would look like, what the two of them have between them will never resemble anything like that.
Ever.
Ten years later, she could only hope that her resolve stayed the way it had. She hoped her confidence of having too much control over her emotions did not waiver otherwise she wouldn't have to feel the pain of getting betrayed by her own feelings. And now, she realized just how much she wanted a "yes" as an answer to that question. Look back, that's all she could do. Wish, that's all she could plead for.
Ten years of being with him and yet she gained nothing, got nowhere, and learned none.
And now she stares at the one thing that ended all the wishing, all the looking back for her.
Marriage is a word that she always feels strongly about; what it symbolizes, what huge responsibilities it carries, and the sheer amount of respect and trust it makes people give to each other. She has huge admiration not only for those people who chose to get involved in it but also to those who chose to stay in it after years of happiness and heartbreaks. And maybe the huge part of her that loved the whole concept of marriage so much is what's causing her feelings of torment and self-loathing to multiply and spill. No matter how much her heart was breaking for her own defeat and palpable loneliness, it broke her much more because she wanted nothing more than to protect him from ever breaking this woman's respect. And looking at that simple, yet meaningful, band around this woman's lithe finger, she had finally accepted her decision to let it all go.
To let him go for good.
Because, come on. Let's be honest for a second here. No matter how much she denied it, no matter how many tears she shed, no matter how much she tries to justify what she did, and no matter how much she tells herself that she wanted to move on and just forget what happened, at the back of her mind, there is still this small speck of hope that keeps on telling her that she shouldn't let go of the idea that he'd do a complete one eighty and look at her instead.
Taking deep, calming breaths, she willed for whatever ounce of strength she had left to hold off the tears she was so tempted to let out and told herself that it's time to stop thinking like she was the victim because, apparently, she was not. And she'll never be. While feeling emotionally strained, it did not take her a couple of heartbeats to face her fears and risk her fragile psyche from breaking when she dared to look at those proud, cerulean eyes. She tried not to get affronted by the smug smile on her lips; she instead reciprocated by giving the sincerity she has not given in a while. She swallowed the hurt down the gaping chasms the whole situation left her with, never to be speak of again.
With renewed determination, she reached out and enveloped the hand bearing the metal band that signifies not only her anguish but also her acquiescence to her situation. She could see the shocked expression on the woman's once smug front but she was glad the hand stayed within her own.
"Congratulations, Jessica."
Marriage, although a word with so much context surrounding it, to her, it's not just a word but a commitment and whatever self-preservation she had left in her every bone, she vowed she'd respect this as something she would never allow herself to taint any further.
It took a tense moment before said woman could reply. With Jessica's shoulders finally relaxing, Jill's very core shook with tremendous incredulity at what Jessica presented her next.
A small, accepting smile.
"Thank you, Jill."
If she thought that there was no salvation for her before, she received comfort from the most unexpected person. Maybe with this, she could also forgive herself.
•xoxoxo•
Look at us now, hard as I try
I get halfway up the wall and you pull me down
•xoxoxo•
HE IS A MAN of words.
He uses words to turn an awkward situation into a calming and pleasurable conversation. He uses words to entice his way to getting what he wants from a person. He uses words, along with his brute strength, to cut down his enemies. Jill said that it was one of his best traits and maybe that's also one of the reasons why he joined the police. He always finds ways to manipulate people to be in his favor. But lately, he found out that words were not always needed. Words will not always be by his side. He should've have known that there is a high chance of it failing him again the first time he experienced it with Jill.
He really should've known.
The stress and fatigue he thought he eradicated when he decided to step out of his room came crashing back to him with such vigor he feared his knees would give out; adding the fact that his mother has been giving him a very nasty look the whole time.
"Are you going to talk?"
Chris could see the sheer amount of effort his mother is giving in controlling her temper as it was evident with how slowly and how much stress she puts in every word. He sighed. He didn't want to talk, really. He didn't want to think because the more he thinks, the more he wants to quit. However, the thought about quitting and letting all his efforts go to waste is completely out of the question. He wanted this and that made him fully aware that one way or another, this is a talk that he would have to face. This route is where all paths end no matter how many times he tries to find a workaround. So, he reckons that prolonging the inevitable is futile and would be a huge waste of time.
He knows that and yet the words continue to elude him and his mind continues to malfunction. He kept constructing his thoughts in a way that would translate to something even his mother's closed mind could open up to and finally give him a shot of convincing her instead of being shot down—in which his mother is so good at when it concerns Jessica.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking everything in. The few seconds that passed for them felt like minutes for him as he dug through his brain for every word he could think of just so he could come up with something—anything.
"Mom—
He started but halted mid-way, tongue-tied and pretty much dumb-founded, as the well-constructed sentence vanished. Biting his tongue in frustration, he watched his mother's displeased countenance change to aggravation.
The tension between them was crippling, so thick and suffocating, to a point that he could feel it slicing through his gut. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the grave worry in Julia's eyes as she ushered Claire, who he didn't know was standing there the whole time until that exact moment, out of the door.
Now it's just him and his mother's wrath boiling below the surface.
"Well?" Catharine demanded, dropping any hopes of coaxing the answers out from him like how she normally would do things—calm and collected.
There was a small pause. Chris looked away, unable to say anything not because the words failed him but instead it's because he knew that no matter what he says, he'd never convince her. He knows that now. And mere seconds after making that conclusion, he saw how all the frustrations projecting on her face got washed off, like sand carried away by rolling waves, but in its wake surfaced dejection.
Pushing herself up on the nearest stool, Catharine heaved a weak sigh; eyes completely downcast. "Why, Chris? Why do you insist on disobeying me like this?"
Chris knows in his heart that the question was not meant to hurt his feelings, in fact, it's like it was a question a disappointed parent would ask when they think no one is watching. Suddenly feeling exhausted, Chris also took a seat across from her and reached out to place a hand on hers. She did not look up. Not that he was expecting her to.
"Mom, I'm not—I'm not disobeying you." He softly whispered and got easily startled when angry hands gripped his biceps so hard it made him cringe.
He could see the angry flames burning within those eyes, slowly seething as if it could physically burn him. Teeth clenched and voice stern, Catherine asks. "Then explain! Make me understand why in the world you would pick such a… woman."
Each word was like poison coursing through his veins. He wants to come clean but he does not want the flame to roar and engulf everything. He vowed that he will handle the situation on his own. As tempting as it is, he swallowed it down.
"Marrying Jessica isn't something I'd consider disobeying, Mom." He paused, gauging her reaction. When she continued to stare him down, he reached up to take her hands in his and this seemed to calm her down a bit. "It's considering what I want in my future. Being with her is my future. Jessica is my future. Not Claire's. Not Dad's. And most certainly not yours, Mom."
He saw how his words played inside her head. It's like he's seeing it inside television. He watched how his mother's eyes betrayed her feelings. He could tell how much his words hurt her as her eyes glazed over, definitely close to tears. He could see the redness in her cheeks as her lower lip quiver. It took a while before she had the chance to speak and when she did, it was in a voice that broke his heart further to pieces.
"Are you telling me to disown you, Chris?" There was pure disbelieve in her eyes, all the while shaking her head. She instantly snatched her hands from him and slammed an angry fist on their counter top's marble surface. "Are you hearing yourself, Christopher!?" She screeched, this time unadulterated horror was all he could see in her eyes.
"Saying that as if it does not concern us? Well, if you marry that woman she'll be in my future, James's future—everyone's future! And yet you—
"Do you?" The question could barely pass above a whisper. It was quiet. It was like a question of a child who got their self-esteem taken by the same people who should be the ones helping them grow. That, alone, stopped Catharine as she looked on in shock.
Looking up, Chris stared at her with remorse. "Do you want me to leave, Mom?"
The answer was instant and the sheer panic was heard more than it could be seen. "Of course I don't!"
"Then respect my decisions." His tone was flat and firm, leaving no opening for rebuttal.
By then he knew, just by looking at her, that he had made things clear between them. The silence is like a white flag being waved in the middle of a decade long war. And he knows that he's not the one waving however he couldn't feel any kind of satisfaction instead he feels hollow.
Chris leaned back and looked away. "Mom, I know who you want me to be with but it's not how things will go." He said in a surrendering whisper. Sinking further into the hole he dug for himself, he remembered how much his mother wanted him to end up with Jill and it pains him to think how true his words were. "Jill… she can't—
A warm hand touched his cheek and the contact yanked him out from the dark path his thoughts wandered to. When his eyes met hers, there was a small glint of sadness and regret whilst trying her best to give a genuine smile.
"Just know that no one will be as good to you as Jill has."
Her words rang with the truth and for a second, that was all he could think about. How Jill built him up to be the best man he could ever be. How Jill had guided him his whole life. How fucked up his world has become when they started drifting apart.
How it all shattered when they never looked back.
If only his mother knew how much he yearned the best thing in life. Maybe, just maybe, she would understand why he did what he did. Maybe she would understand how much it hurts to think of what could never be.
As Catharine pushed herself off the stool to take her leave, she would also leave one fact behind that she should've seen from the very beginning.
And that is how much he madly loved the same woman she wanted to be with him.
When the silence and solitude were too loud for his ears, with a sad and disheartened smile, he whispered.
"I know."
•xoxoxo•
It's so easy to fall in
But now that this ain't what you promised
Tell me how to crawl out of love
•xoxoxo•
I FEEL PATHETIC standing here again, hesitating and doubting myself, for the second time. I feel really pathetic yet no matter how laughable I am for being such a piece of shit, I swallowed it all, accepted it all, because I have no pride left of which to speak of. The sting of the cold dampness on my cheek paled in comparison with the way my heart continued to sink into absolute darkness. It felt heavy and it felt like I'm being dragged down along with it. I thought standing here the first time was the hardest moment for me.
I guess I spoke too soon.
"Jill?"
The small voice has hesitation sprinkled all over it and the moment I saw Rebecca's worried face, my eyes water and like a child, I rushed forward and buried my face against the crook of her small neck. Before I could even stop myself, I wailed loudly as my tears surged like water from a broken dam. It's unlike me. However, I did not falter. I just continued to pour my pain out.
I can sense the tension from the initial shock leave her body and it was followed by a firm hug. I can hear her reassuring words but my heart wouldn't heal with just words. I don't know how long we stayed that way but time seemed to drift away as I was seized to a world of sadness and remorse.
I felt how the darkness engulfed me. I was aware of how alone I've become.
Until I felt Rebecca's hold on me tighten and it was a whisper that I'm not alone without any use for words. I can finally feel the warmth and see a small sliver of light that guided me back to reality. I felt my sobs gradually reach its end as I pulled away from her embrace.
"Let's go inside." She coaxed with a gentle smile and wiped my tears with shaky thumbs. I could tell by her expression that she was a bit shaken by my sudden outburst but still managed to smile like that for my sake.
I wanted nothing more than to disappear at this point.
Jill, you're the biggest piece of shit there is, you know? Dragging other people down with your petty excuses and problems is just… hateful. Is this what "too far gone" means? What ever happened to moving on? What happened to claiming all the blame?
What happened to letting him go?
Pathetic, Jill. You are so pathetic.
I've never hated being in my skin more than I do now.
I feel like I'm not making any progress, only taking three steps back every fucking time. Considering how well I managed when I was in front of Jessica, I thought it will continue to be that way. The bitterness was just hidden underneath—brushed under the rug—only to resurface after the calm. I, for one, really thought that I could forgive myself. Who am I kidding anyway?
I guess I'm just feeling the cold slap of realization now. Now that I'm no longer in front of her. Now that I have all the time to only think about myself. Now that I'm starting to feel so greedy and selfish again. This fucking side of me, the woman who keeps on wanting, the woman who pushed me into making a huge mistake in the first place, and that side who's deeply hurting.
Rebecca ushered me inside her home and I blindly followed suit.
I claimed my seat on the couch closest to where the entrance of the kitchen is. I watched, sniffing a little, as Rebecca made her way towards the sink. The room was quiet and I expected a lot of decorations but just found a lone Christmas tree near the fireplace. I suspected Billy is not back from work yet. Figures he'd be out working even if it's Christmas Eve.
I see Rebecca work her way towards the kitchen probably to make coffee. I opened my mouth to say something but found myself hesitating. I really appreciate how Rebecca did not pry into knowing what happened right away. I always loved that about her. She is willing to wait until a person is comfortable enough to share. Maybe that's what drove our friendship to persevere even after so many years.
I respect her for that.
Suddenly finding the courage, I cleared my throat. "I'm so sorry for being totally unreasonable, Becca." It came out more of a whisper and I really hoped she heard me.
Looking up, I saw her standing a few feet away from me with two mugs of hot chocolate in each hands; a frown projecting on her face. A mere second passed before she sighed and placed one mug in front of her and claimed the seat across from her.
"Jill, I already told you that it's fine."
"But imposing like this? I'm so pathetic right now, aren't I?"
"Don't say that!?" Rebecca exclaimed, voice reprimanding, and it made me jump in my seat as I looked at her. She stared at me with a frown before clearing her throat. "We've been friends for as long as I could remember. I'll always be here for you. As far as I know, our friendship is not seasonal."
I know for a fact that she threw in that last bit to give our already somber conversation a little humor and it did not fail to make me chuckle. Although it came out in a playful manner, her words spoke that of the truth.
"Thank you, Rebecca." I meant every word.
She gave me her signature thumbs up and radiant smile. "You can count on me, Jill. Have you forgotten how much I relied on you for support—too much that I think I became too depended? It's now my turn to help you. So you bet I will."
"I know." It was like a reminder for me instead of a confirmation.
"So," Rebecca started, averting her eyes a little. I can see she was faltering. "Are you ready to tell me what happened?"
I placed my drink down with a downcast look. "I'm sorry. I'm not comfortable yet."
I sensed the minute relaxing of her shoulders. I guess she's also not ready to hear what I had to say. It's not every day you get to see who you think is a very independent person break down and cry like that. Even if Rebecca will not say it out loud, I know she knows me as a person who'd analyze a problem first and calmly device a plan to make things work the way it should. A moment of vulnerability is something I was not so proud to show off to anyone. Anyone.
And when I faced that moment, I had to admit that it was unlike me. When I confessed to her about what happened that night, I could remember having a little reign over my emotions that I did not cry as much as I did earlier.
"I understand. Just know that you can talk to me, okay? Until then, I'll be waiting."
Nodding, I placed my mug down. "Yeah,"
There was a moment of silence before Rebecca broke the ice with a small clap. "Okay! Have you eaten anything yet?" She asked pushing herself up, her tone upbeat. "I can make us snack while we wait for Billy or something."
"I'd like to help." I offered and followed her to the kitchen. She gave me a wide smile and handed me an extra apron.
We used to do this a lot back when we were still in high school. She would often compliment me of how good I am at cooking and I'd always teach her some of the recipes I've learned because I would always cook for Chris and Claire. It does bring back memories.
Memories of much vibrant days.
Those were the days I'd never get back.
I wish I could go back.
I wish I could say there.
"Maybe we should prepare dinner, too." I suggested and Rebecca instantly nodded.
She seemed to understand what I'm insinuating. I know I shouldn't be here. I know I should be with my parents, eating dinner with the Redfields, but it just does not feel right at all. I know I couldn't even stomach the fact of facing them when I'm like this; when old wounds reopened and a new gash still fresh and painful.
Don't get me wrong, I want to face my fears and stop running away.
But, maybe, all I ever wanted to do at this point was run away. Maybe that was the answer all along? Maybe I was just saying that I needed to stop acting like trash and just accept my punishment—just face it all.
However, maybe that's what I really am.
A trash.
And I really want to run away.
And maybe it's okay to do just that.
•xoxoxo•
Tell me how to crawl out of love
•xoxoxo•
Author's Note: Seriously, it took me more time to proof-read this than actually writing the whole thing. I might have missed a few here and there, but what can I say? I'm burnt. Lol. Anyway, I hope you still stick around for the next chapter. I'm now working on it. Will not make any more promised since I fucked up the last time. I really can't say how things will turn out that's why everything has been sporadic my whole life. Sigh. Don't forget to leave a review! Always keeps me going. See you soon~
•xoxoxo•
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters because CAPCOM owns them! I also do not own the lyrics of the song Crawl Outta Love – Illenium, Annika Wells which was featured here. Please do listen to that. It's frigging awesome!
[February 07 2018 | 1217H]