AN: Thanks to all who reviewed. The story now jumps to Lilly's POV. It will continue switching back and forth so both characters can express their feelings and share thoughts and memories about each other. Hope you enjoy.

I'm sitting on the edge of the side of my bed. Slouched over, I'm staring at my cell phone (otherwise known as my life line) in my hands. All I want is to hear that sound. Let his ringtone (I suffer through a Coldplay song just for him) fill the room. Make the screen flash "new message" with a picture of my boyfriend's dorky face. Give me a sign. I need something.

A frustrated sigh escapes as I slowly lift up my head. I can see my poor reflection in the mirror. My clothes don't match, and my hair is down and in tangles. Blood-shot eyes, pale-ish skin color, a frown complete the look. What has become of me? I'm a mess; a total wreck without him here.

I feel my neck and shoulders crack as I turn to look at the alarm clock on my nightstand. The time surprises me. He should have been on stage by now. It's fifteen minutes past show time. Are they late? If it's one thing I know about my Ollie-pop, it's that he would never leave me in the dark. He made that promise right before he left.

I am jolted from an ever so pleasant dream by the sounds of slamming car doors. My eyes crack open as I hear male voices calling out to one another from my opened bedroom window. Squinting at the clock across the room, I try to decipher the time. Everything is blurry (for my body isn't fully awake yet), but I can make out the outline of a few numbers. It's very early in the morning. The sun is just starting to rise.

I wake up alone; my first thought being "where is my boyfriend?" That's when reality snaps. Oliver is leaving today. What if he has left already? The mere thought strikes me with fear.

Tossing off the sheet that I don't remember covering up with, I bolt out of my room. I don't even bother to find some shoes. Down the stairs and out the front door I fly. My screen door shuts itself with a slam. A few men, whose voices I had heard from my bedroom, are standing by some sort of large vehicle parked across the street in front of Oliver's house. It looks more like a big van than a tour bus. I see guitar cases, luggage, and other equipment on the side walk. Watching from a distance, I see the men gather everything up and stow it in its proper place.

Suddenly, the Oken's garage door opens and Oliver appears with three bags. Aside from a suitcase on wheels, he has a carry-on slung over his shoulder and an old duffle bag with our high school's name on the front. (And he says girls over pack...) I blink a few times to make sure that what I'm seeing is real and not just an unwanted dream. Oliver is in jeans and his favorite hoodie is pulled up over his head. He punches in the code on the keypad and waits for the door to fully shut before casually strolling towards van. Why am I watching as if Oliver has the plague? I can't let him slip away like this. I'm not going to stand in silence anymore.

I run off my porch and down my sidewalk, stopping just as the street meets the concrete. Several tiny rocks and pieces of chipped-up cement come in contact with my bare feet, but I don't flinch. Oliver continues to drag his suitcase, but stops dead when he sees me standing there. Hurt fills my innocent eyes. It's like I've caught him off guard. He shouldn't be surprised to see me.

"You guys mind giving me a minute?" Oliver asks the crew, but never takes his eyes off me. "I need some time alone with my girl..."

Everyone respects Oliver's request and gives us some space. He slips the bag off his shoulder, places the duffle bag on the ground, and lets go of the suitcase's handle. We are standing just about a foot apart. Oliver looks straight at me almost expression-less. Our eyes do the talking for a little. I don't know how he is feeling until I see the beginning of a frown form. Then I turn to words.

"You were just gonna leave..." My lip trembles involuntary. Breath can be seen in the early morning air. Even though it's practically summer, sometime the temperature can dip before the sun fully rises. "Without saying goodbye..."

"I would never tell you goodbye, Lilly." Oliver replies. "Goodbyes are permanent."

"You know what I mean." I fold my arms across my chest and rub them. Sevres me right for running out of the house without thinking. Oliver feels guilty and unzips his hoodie, leaving him in only a plain t-shirt.

"Here." He wraps the hoodie around my shoulders. "It's too chilly to be wearing just a tank top, babe. Can't have you getting sick." I put my arms through the sleeves as Oliver continues. "I was gonna throw my stuff in the van, then go up to your room to see you, to tell you the truth. Figured the moment wouldn't be so awkward then, but I like this way better, though."

Silence looms and we are still. There are so many things I want to say, so many thoughts I want to share. Our eyes are fixed on each others as mine start to water. Surface tension breaks. One tear leaves my eye and begins to roll down my face. Oliver leans forward and gently presses his lips to my cheek. I can feel his warmth as he kisses away the salty drop. He doesn't want me to cry.

Oliver pulls his head back. I look up at just the right time. A single tear escapes from his deep, brown eyes. Without saying a word, I raise my hand and wipe it away with my thumb. My hand slowly leaves Oliver's face as my arm returns to rest at my side. He knows I can't stand to see him cry either.

We try our best to hold ourselves together, but end up reaching out to pull each other close at the same time. I cling on to Oliver's back, placing my forehead on his shoulder. More tears try to break through, but I just close my eyes and fight them. In the arms of my love, that cannot happen. Oliver holds me tight through the unzipped hoodie. I can feel the coolness from his hands on my back.

"Tell me no." He whispers in my hair.

"Huh?" I respond.

"Tell me not to go." Oliver presses my body as close to his as possible. "Tell me I'm making a mistake. Say you'll miss me too much or something."

"You know I'll miss you, Oliver."

"Then stop me, Lilly-pop!" As a sudden impulse, I am pushed back and held still. I look up at my boyfriend who is beside himself. "You're the only one who can!"

I'm overwhelmed and can't find my voice. "I..."

"Don't let me ruin things."

Oliver is waiting for me to take some sort of course of action. I'm being begged. His eyes widen as a nudge. Sincerity is present my response: "I won't let you."

"Then it's settled." Oliver backs up and I'm released. "I'm staying."

"No, you're definitely going." I reply firmly.

"What?" He's shocked. "You just told me you won't let me ruin things!"

"And I won't." I close the gap between us. "Which is why you have to do this tour."

"You're confusing the heck out of me, Lilly-pop." Oliver says. "One minute you want me, the next, you want to ship me across the country!"

"It's not that I want you to be so far away," I begin. Oliver's mouth opens to interject. I reach up and cover it with my hand so that I may continue my explanation. "But this is your dream, honey. You've worked so hard to get here. I'm not going to be the one to single-handedly crush this opportunity for you. No matter how much it'll hurt, I need to let you do this."

Oliver kisses against my hand. It's sweet, but I know it's also a sign that he wants to add his two cents. I decide to allow him to take his turn and uncover his mouth.

"Lilly, you're my dream." Oliver takes the hand that he kissed in his. "You and me. The two of us. This is what I want."

"Nothing's changing." I tell him.

"This big break is a change." He states. "Being away from you is an even bigger one."

"You're making this harder than it needs to be." I sniff. I don't know how much more of this flip-flop emotion I can take.

"I'm sorry." He stares down at the pavement. "It's just that I'm scared to leave you here alone. I don't want a barrier between us." Oliver ever so slowly lifts his head so that we're watery eye to watery eye. "I don't think I can handle it..."

I lean in and wrap my arms around Oliver's waist. My face finds the center of his chest. He holds one arm around my back and runs his hand through my messy hair. We hold each other in the position with our eyes closed. I know mine are burning because I won't let myself burst into tears.

"Hey Oliver?" We jerk a part as Oliver flings his head in the direction of the voice. It's one of his band mates. "We gotta hit the road."

Oliver nods then turns to face me. Can't time stand still for a little while longer? I do my best to smile, but inside, my stomach is turning. He sighs heavily.

"I guess I gotta-"

Before Oliver can finish, I grab his shirt, yank him towards me, and crash our lips together. I kiss him like there's no tomorrow. In a way, that saying is true. I will not get the chance to kiss my boyfriend tomorrow, or the next day, week, or month for that matter. I want to make sure we each remember what it feels likes; what each other tastes like. This moment, this experience. It needs to be prolonged and cherished.

Soon, however, we both need oxygen. Our faces turn color to prove it. I'm the first to pull away, barely able to breathe.

"Cell phone!" I pant. I'm still holding on to Oliver by his shirt. "On and with you at all times!"

"I'll text and call every chance I get!" He manages to make a promise between breaths. "You'll always know what I'm up to!"

"Oliver!?" Voices echoes. He's being summoned. I've been telling him to go all this time. Now I actually need to let him.

"I love you, Ollie-pop." I say softly and kiss him once more. "Make me proud."

It takes a few seconds, but my grip on his t-shirt looses. Oliver smoothes out the wrinkles. He leans for a short, tender kiss of his own.

"Love you, too, Lilly-pop."

Oliver gathers up his belongings and packs them in what little free space is available in the van. He closes the back door, then looks over at me. I haven't moved. My face hasn't changed expression. Gesturing, Oliver makes an upward motion with his hand, then fake shivers. He wants me to zip up the hoodie, because it's still too cold. I comply, but never lose eye contact. This earns me a small smile, which I flash in return.

I keep telling myself to be strong as I watch Oliver get into the van. Don't do anything stupid. Don't embarrass yourself. He takes his seat by the window. I can see his face faintly. We're still close enough to each other to satisfy our comfort zones. It doesn't feel as bad.

Until whoever is driving cranks up the engine, and a snap of reality and panic is sent. He's leaving, Lilly. Oliver is really leaving. What am I going to do?

Oliver stares out the window blankly. I give him the same look in response. The van shifts from park to drive. My heart starts racing. All of the sudden, it's two hundred degrees. This hoodie I'm wearing is suffocating me. The sun continues to rise, but I feel as though I'm baking in it already. My fingers twitch nervously.

Then, it happens. The tires start to roll and the vehicle creeps forward. Oliver has one hand up against the glass and a look on his face like he's being carted off to prison. I don't want to see him like this. Going on his first tour is supposed to bring excitement, joy, and new experiences. Instead, it brings uncertainty and loneliness. I've got a sad, love-sick puppy staring at me. I'm the little girl who wants to run to his rescue, and then beg my mom to let me keep him.

Oliver traces a heart on the window with his finger and points to me. All I have time for is a nod and slight smile, because the driver hits the acceleration. I see part of Oliver's hair flop as the force knocks him back in his seat. They take off down the street immediately.

In a flash, he's gone. I'm left alone just like that. I can't say Oliver disappeared in the blink of an eye. Even that comparison doesn't fit. It happened too fast.

There's an intense want to sprint down the street and chase after him. I can have the want, but I don't have the ability. My legs are asleep. They burn with a numbing sensation. I know that even if I could take off, I would wobble and give out after the first step. Falling to my knees on the ground and balling is just cliché and sign of extreme weakness. In my head, I can picture that moment. Physically, my body feels like that's what is happening right now.

I look out at the sky. The silhouette of the moon is fading away, while the orange sun rises in its place. This marks the start to a new day. Though something (or someone rather) is missing, the hot star still appears to light the Earth. I take this a sign of hope. Oliver and I have a relationship with a similar quality of the sun and moon. Even if one is gone to a different place, the other knows there will come a time to rise again. I can't see Oliver, but I know he's there. One day, we'll eclipses. We will reunite in a state of bliss.

For now, I just stand and stare...

I turn my attention back to my phone. Maybe if I stare long enough, he'll call. That philosophy has worked a few times in the past, but I'm not having any luck tonight. Should I use reverse psychology? Tell myself he forgot so it'll be extra special when I do hear from him? That won't work. He would never break a promise. Don't even think about Oliver and I'll get a message? Is that even possible for me? For what it's worth, I'll give it a shot. I'm willing to try any and everything for him.

I stretch over to place my cell phone on the night stand. Three seconds pass by before my arm shoots out to grab it. This is how badly I am attached. My hand hovers above, but does not actually touch the phone. I make a fist then pull away. Fight it, Lilly.

I decide it's time for bed. Ever since Oliver has been gone, I've been sleeping at odd hours. If I don't have any planned activities, I'll spend the day in my room reading or listening to music in my PJs. I rarely go to the beach anymore and haven't touched my skateboard in months. What's the point in having fun when every single thing reminds me of a memory I shared with him?

I hate this feeling. We didn't break up, so why does it hurt like we did? Why do I act this way?

There's one thing I have to do before turning in tonight. I have to get something so that there's a chance I'll get some rest, even if that chance is slim. I carefully stand up and make my way across the room in my bare feet. What I need is lying across the back of my computer chair.

I pick up and slip on the hoodie Oliver left for me. Of course it's a little big and stretched out, but that's what it's supposed to be like. This use to smell just like him, too. I've worn every single night since he left, so sadly, it no longer does. There are even remnants of the stain from when he dropped a whole container of nachos on himself. (He had a million things to carry that day and was too stubborn to ask for help.) It's not that old, but looks as though it has been worn for years. It's Oliver's favorite and the closest thing I have to feeling like I'm being held in his arms. Sleeping in it is as good as it gets.

As I zip up my boyfriend's red hoodie, light catches the corner of my eye. I tilt my head curiously and take a few steps towards my window. The blinds are drawn, so I can see clearly. A siliver-ish full moon hangs low in the sky. As I gaze at the celestial body I can't help but wonder where my Ollie-pop is, what he's doing, and if he can see it, too.

If you noticed, I left the lyrics out of this chapter. Since Oliver is the one singing, they will more than likely only appear in his chapters. Everything will tie together in the next update. Let me know what think.

-Marissa