I can't do this anymore.
She can't breathe. Her throat feels too tight to let any air in. Her heart aches. Hair sticks to her cheeks; drenched coat pulls her body down; her legs tremble, nearly caving under her own weight. Water pours down her face, drops of rain mingling with her own tears.
It's hard to see much in the darkened park. The rain curtain is so thick that it dulls the flickering lamp posts nearby, yet the water fountain in front of her still manages to glisten somehow. The shimmering waters taunt her for standing there, cold and alone, playing the victim in a situation she has only herself to blame for.
Maybe this was a mistake.
A thunder roars somewhere, sending chills down her entire body. How can she feel numb and oversensitive all at once? The constant pricking of the rain needles anesthetizes her skin at the same time as ice shards sprout in the depths of her bones and rip her from the inside out.
Her senses are a mess, and her emotions aren't handling things that much better. A void of apathy clouds her thoughts as her stomach churns with regret. Echoes of pain and dread rush over her, her brain unable to assimilate all stimuli at once. She tightens her fist and the ridges of the coin she holds in her palm digs into her flesh.
What did you wish for?
They had taken a detour at the end of their first date, at a time when things were simpler and the stakes, lower. He had a single quarter in his pocket, and if she hadn't been the one to suggest a detour through the park, she would have bet that he had planned it all.
She remembers his first touch. Shy. So light it was barely there. Teasing fingers sliding up her arms at an agonizing pace as she felt his increasing heartbeat against her back. He traced her collarbone, her jawline, her lips, leaving a trail of goosebumps everywhere he touched her.
I like your hair down. You should wear it down more often.
She shudders as she feels the ghost of his warmth on the pulsing point on her neck. Her eyes close without her noticing as she revels in her memories. The images in her mind are so clear it's almost like no time has passed at all. She remembers everything. The way his hands felt on her skin. The noises she made as his fingers tangled in her hair. His weight pressed against her as her hands roamed in the dark. Nights filled with kisses and whispered secrets. A shared intimacy far deeper than any physical touch could ever bring.
She can still remember how solid and real he felt when he filled her entire world. And how broken she felt when he was no longer there.
Admit it, you can't live without me.
He was the kind of guy who could find amusement in the simplest of things. His childlike wonder never faltered, he lived each and every day to the fullest, and right from the very beginning, she couldn't stop herself from falling for his free spirit. The same free spirit she had almost crushed herself.
What are we even doing here?
From the very beginning, they shared the unspoken agreement that nothing serious was going on between them. As long as they were simply fooling around, there were no expectations, no efforts, no problems that needed fixing. Things were casual. Cautious. Denying the true extent of their feelings for each other. And as time went by, those became the pillars their relationship was built upon.
It was no surprise that such arrangement lured the insecurity monster to lurk around the corners. It hovered over her like a guardian angel, paying her visits at the slightest hints of vulnerability. Uncertainty kept her on her toes, constantly reminding her that whatever they shared was never going to be as real as she wanted it to be.
I can't remember the last time we had a proper conversation.
She told herself that it was only temporary. That everything would go back to the way things were once she got the promotion her boss had been hinting at lately. But as weeks turned into months, and the only thing that had changed was the amount of work on her plate, she realized, maybe a little too late, that things were never going back to the way they were.
Aren't you tired? I know I am.
She made him put his life on hold for her, hoped for his support even though she was too much of a coward to ask for it herself. She was a hypocrite. She had expected him to understand when she was sure she wouldn't do the same had the roles been reversed. Did she miss him? That went without saying. Did she feel like her heart had been ripped out of her chest when he left? She still had the hole to prove. Even so, no matter how much pain she had gone through, she couldn't blame him for choosing himself instead of her. Truth be told, it still shocks her that he didn't do it sooner.
It's like I don't even know you anymore.
She's not sure when the rain stopped, but it did, and the only thing she can hear is the water flowing in the fountain. She wipes a drenched sleeve across her eyes, doing more damage than good at that point. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she attempts to raise her hand. She barely has the strength to keep herself upright and her arm trembles with the effort.
Make a wish, Elsa.
She inhales. She has no right to ask for anything else. No right to apologize. To beg for forgiveness. To wish for a second chance. Still, she's selfish, and that's exactly what she does. She loses the coin in the middle of the darkness but can hear when it hits the fountain. She closes her eyes as she repeats her wish inside her head.
What did you wish for?
She can hear him again. Just like that first night… but not quite. His voice sounds dry. Tired. Void of life. There's something wrong with that picture, and it makes her frown.
What did you wish for, Elsa?
There it is again. More annoyed this time. Great, if reality wasn't punishment enough, he now hates her in her own mind as well.
Elsa…
It is then that she realizes maybe it's not her imagination. Panic makes her head spin, heartbeat speeds up, limbs weaken as she carefully turns around. Elsa is sure she's about to pass out as she finds him standing there like a summoning out of one of her memories.
"Jack—" The single word hurts her dry throat, and she has to cover a coughing fit with her hand.
He continues to stare at her, eyes unreadable, lips tightly pressed together, shoulders stiff with wariness.
"Aren't you gonna answer?" he asks, making her eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Your wish."
She shivers, and she's pretty sure the chill running down her spine has nothing to do with her soaked-up clothes, nor the fact that she's been standing in the rain for God only knows how long.
"It wouldn't come true if I told you," Elsa says, and she has to put all her remaining energy into maintaining some semblance of composure.
"Fair enough." He shrugs, then crosses his arms. "Bold of you to break up with me just so you can die from a common cold."
She huffs. "You're the one who broke up with me."
"I guess I did, didn't I?"
Jack walks past her, heading to the fountain, and she watches in a trance-like state as he fishes a coin out of his back pocket and tosses it in the water.
"What did you wish for?"
He turns to look at her, and she feels herself shrinking under the harshness of his glare. "I'll tell you my wish if you tell me yours."
Elsa munches on her lip, his suggestion raising all sorts of flags in her brain and making her want to storm out of there and hide. Then, she remembers how just minutes ago, she was regretting him ever walking out of her life. She doesn't know if she can live with letting him go again.
She takes a deep breath to even her voice the best she can. "You first. What was your wish?"
"To see you again."
She bits the inside of her cheeks not to burst out crying, because there is no way his words can be anything but a heartless prank. That's his idea of revenge, and she can't hate him for wanting to hurt her back. Still, she refuses to cry in front of him. She laughs instead, but the sound that leaves her vocal cords is a manic screech too hysteric to pass for nonchalant.
"I'm literally standing right here," she states, not wanting to let him see her crumble.
"Guess my wish came true, then." He takes a step forward.
Elsa crosses her arms so he doesn't notice her shaking. "Of course you would waste your wish like that."
"What if it's not a waste to me?" He takes another step in her direction, his arm brushing against hers.
"Stop—" His joke is far too cruel, and she can't hold it in any longer. She presses the heels of her hands to her eyelids as she cries, choked sobs leaving her throat in erratic outbursts that make it impossible to breathe.
"Elsa—"
She shoves him with both hands on his chest.
"Is this what you wanted? To watch me suffer?" She laughs, voice increasing in volume and tempo as her heartbeat rings in her ears. "Well, you'll be happy to know that I've been miserable since you left. I cried every single day, and, as it seems, I'm still not out of tears! I hate myself for the way I treated you. I know I don't deserve to be forgiven, but I'm sorry, okay? I am so sorry, Jack, even if you don't believe me. What I did wasn't fair, but I'm not gonna let you walk over me like that—"
He snorts, pulling her by the wrist and sending her stumbling forward. His eyes burn hers as he lowers his head. "What kind of convoluted story is going on in that head of yours?"
She tries to get herself free, but all her struggling only makes him hold her tighter. "Your joke is not funny anymore," she snarls, repeatedly hitting his arm.
He grabs her other wrist with an annoyed growl. "Who said I'm joking?"
She's so startled that she momentarily freezes. Eyes wide, she opens and closes her mouth, but no words come out. "W-what?"
He lets out a mixture of a sigh and a laugh, and his eyes soften ever so slightly. He loosens his grip on her, but she makes no effort to move. She couldn't move even if she tried. She can't—What is he saying? Was he telling the truth the whole time? Can Elsa allow herself to hope? No matter how hard she thinks about it, nothing makes sense. She feels the tingling where his palms press against her wrists. His breath tickles her nose. She's melting, and all she wants to do is throw her arms around his neck and let the safety of his arms envelop her.
"Your turn." His voice is low, vulnerable, drained of all previous intensity. He speaks in confidence, his words a gentle murmur for her ears only. "What did you wish for, Elsa?"
She can't breathe again. Her blood is rushing, and she has to fight the urge to shut him out like last time. Before she can convince herself out of it, she balls her fists on the front of his jacket and pushes herself on the tip of her toes. Standing so close that she can feel his heat against her skin, she whispers, "You."
For a second, he's startled. Then, she feels his grin against her lips, and her fingers are running through his hair to bring him down for a proper kiss. She's soaking his clothes, and she's so exhausted that he practically has to support all of her weight, but he doesn't seem to care, because he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her so close there is no space left between them. He kisses her like there is nothing in the world he would rather be doing, and she squeals when he lifts her off the ground.
Yelling at him means she'd have to end the kiss, so she compromises with grunting against his mouth. She hears him chuckling, the rumbling that travels through his chest comforting her in a way she didn't realize she missed. She pulls back for air, and he smirks at her, awakening the dormant butterflies in her stomach. Her heart swells. He's here with her. He's here with her. And she can finally allow herself to feel hopeful again.
She exhales as the tinkling of the water fountain reaches her ears. The fairy-tale giggling of the waters seems to soothe her now, and she smiles.
Maybe wishes do come true.