Um…..what? I don't know anything anymore. I just… I don't know what to do with myself. I had late band rehearsal so I didn't get to watch RB until late. So I didn't get to see the full promo for next week. But I watched both of them, finally, and I fangirled. Like, god. And I ended up calling my friend to rant about it. Woo hoo.
Anyways, this is what I think will happen next week, due to spoilers I've read.
Also, my other story, Days of Doubt, is being read over by my beta as of now. So it should be posted soon. There is a big difference between when I didn't have a beta, and now. Before, there was a two minute difference between when I finished the chapter and when I published it. Now, there's a day or two difference. But it'll improve my writing, so I am ever thankful.
Anyways, enjoy.
Disclaimer: No…..but I asked for it for Christmas.
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Tick, tick, tick, tick.
She never liked being able to hear clocks, ticking away on the wall. Not only did it mean it was silent, it meant it gave her time to think. And the constant ticking reminded her of how much time she was wasting by thinking. How much of her life was going on and the only voice around was the one in her head.
This time, however, she wished that it could've been a clock that was ticking. She wished that she was over thinking in her head, that her heartbeat was racing because of thoughts, and thoughts alone. That her over thinking her broken relationship with Sam would cause anger and sadness to flair.
Instead, though, it wasn't a clock. It was a bomb.
A bomb that she took from a nine year old. A bomb that the man, that she had arrested the day she got reinstated, had given to her in hopes to destroy whatever happiness could've been brought back. A bomb that she found in the girl's hand; the girl who was locked in a food closet.
Now, it was her who held the bomb. Standing as still as possible, shaking fingers pressing the button, as to not let it explode. She stood alone in the building. Alone in the world.
She heard Frank promise that ETF was on their way. But with each passing second, each passing tick, she feared more and more for her life. A life that could end at any second due to an explosion. A life that she ended without telling Sam how she still felt about him. She didn't want to leave the earth on bad terms. She refused to.
Exaggerated footsteps made their mark on the tile floor. She knew that if it were any other situation, they'd be silent. But they were loud, for the sake of not surprising her. Because at the point, surprising her would kill her.
She glanced up at him as he made his way over. Careful, thought out foot falls. His eyes were wide with utter fear. She could tell he was terrified. His hair was in total disarray, no doubt from running his hands through it over and over.
"What are you doing here?" she finally called out, turning back so she could be as still as possible.
He came up so that he only stood about two feet away. That was as close as he was allowed to go, given the circumstances. "There's no place I'd rather be," he explained, as if he wasn't standing two feet away from a live bomb.
She only nodded, not sure where the conversation was going. A stray tear fell down her cheek and she ducked her head in embarrassment. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears as Frank informed that ETF was five minutes away.
"Sam," she choked out, the lump in her throat making it impossible to finish the sentence. He came an inch closer, but backed away. She would push him away if he came closer, as she didn't want him in any more danger. "You have to leave." Another tear.
"I can't do that and you know it." It sounded more like a threat, but his voice was thick and low. A tell tale sign of when he's scared. She nodded, not trusting her voice.
"But why are you here?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, standing straighter.
"If you don't feel anything for me anymore. You ended it. Why are you here?" she repeated. Another drop. She refused to make eye contact, afraid of what she would find in his eyes.
"I wish you could be inside my head. I wish you could read my mind," he explained. Oh Sam, she thought, wouldn't that just make everything easier?
"What are you talking about?"
"I love you, Andy," he finally confessed.
She wasn't sure what she should say back. She was in shock. He had just said that he loved her. At the worst time he was capable of. So instead of reacting how she thought she would have when he told her, she pointed out of obvious in hopes he would understand.
"I'm holding a bomb," she cried. She was warning him, in a way. Warning him that he needed to leave in order to save his life.
He didn't seem to get the memo. He closed the remaining distance between them in two steps. Wrapping his gloved hands around hers, which was covering the bomb, he looked her straight in the eyes.
"So am I."
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It was over.
That hellish day was finally ending. Curled up on the couch in pajama pants and a tank top, she went over the day. Her heart rate had only calmed a few beats. She didn't think it was healthy to have her pulse racing for so long, so she grabbed a glass of wine in hopes of calming her nerves.
Why? That's what she wanted to know. Why, after all this time, would he have told her then? Didn't he leave her so he wouldn't have to deal with the pain of a situation like the one today? He could've left because he had no feelings for her. But even though he had ended their relationship, she seemed to be the one who had fewer feelings for the other.
He was just so confusing.
A knock of her door startled her already shifty heart rate. Standing up, she sighed as her muscles protested the movement. Padding to the door, she didn't bother checking who it was before she opened it. She wasn't sure if she should've been surprised or not by the man on the other side.
"Hey," she greeted, arm blocking him from entering. He only watched her, any words he was about to say dying on his lips. His mouth turned up in a smile, but back down as his face became serious. He moved his eyes from her and into her apartment; silently asking to come in.
She allowed, backing away. He brushed passed her, hand sliding over her hip in the process. She faced the door, locked it and turned around. He was right behind her, and she collided into his chest. She took a step back, startled. He lightly rested his hands on her hands, as if he wasn't sure he could touch her.
She stared into his eyes, silently giving him permission. His hand slid up and grasped hers, and he pulled her further into her apartment. Even when his feet stopped, his hand still pulled her to him. Her face collided with his collarbone so she turned her head to rest on his shoulder. His arms snaked their way around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Her arms went around his back, massaging the tense muscle. He bent down so that his face was nuzzled into her neck, his deep breath an indication that he was breathing in her scent.
She began to shake and she knew that the day's events had finally caught up. Now, when she was most protected in the arms of the man she loved, she could finally let go. Let go of the façade that kept her together within moments of possibly losing her life.
As the tears streamed down her face, he pulled her closer, so that she could hear his heartbeat. It was steady and strong, but still relaxed. She slowed her breathing and she felt her own pulse calm.
They still had to talk. They had so many things to discuss; to clear up. But that could wait until tomorrow. At least for now, they could just relax and indulge in each other's company. The staid like that, unable to move from their position. The only sounds that could be heard were the sound of their breathing and her sniffling. Then he whispered the one thing she had ever wanted to hear him say.
"I love you."
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Yay! I did it! One of the many that will be written like this! So… I'm not sure if I should continue and make it a two-part. That way, I can include their talk.
I have to go now, meeting Jen and Jason to discuss our new songs and stuff. So tell me what you think. Should I include their talk?