Chapter 12: Faith

He stands there, dripping drops of rain onto the cold tile and staring around the room. She watches as his jaw clenches tighter and tighter as he takes in each piece of furniture, every picture on the wall. She hasn't moved anything around -the room doesn't belong to her so she's not allowed to change much – and it appears the exact same way as the last time he was here.

At the sound of her voice his gaze flickers back to her, a broken and faded smile stretching across his face. His eyes are pleading, the same charming puppy dog expression in them that won her over so many times. She looks away, stripping his wet jacket off and holding it out to him. Long callused fingers reach out and take it from her, raising it to his face for a moment and then hanging it on the doorknob with a dejected look. Underneath her clothes are mostly dry, and she rolls up her pant legs once before removing her shoes and stepping onto the carpet. Still on the tile he looks at her again, soaking wet and pitiful, not saying anything. She feels a twinge of guilt – he did give her his jacket – but pushes it off, averting her eyes again so that his gaze can have no effect on her.

"What are you doing here?" she repeats again. Out of the corner of her vision he shifts, putting his weight on another foot.

"Well, I came to see you obviously." She cringes at the words, almost biting her tongue as her teeth grind together. Such comments have been lost to her for so long she's almost forgotten what they feel like. They should be nice and send pleasant butterflies loose in her stomach, but instead she feels almost sick. They're too sweet, like liquid sugar, and they drown her in in a sticky too-good-to-be-true feeling.

She doesn't respond and he doesn't make another sound, just moves again and sets something down on a side table, being careful not to drip anything on the carpet. Sparing a glance she catches sight of a small stack of books, damp but not ruined, arranged there; her library books. She had forgotten all about them.

There's a sigh as he lowers himself to the floor, squatting on just the edge of the cemented doorway. He puts his head in one hand and stares at her, forcing her gaze onto him, daring her to walk away but begging her to stay.

She finds herself setting herself down, a foot or so away, and glaring tiredly at his faint grin. Her hands lay flat on the carpet, clutching at the itchy fabric. He tilts his head slowly, violet bangs shifting across his forehead. "I came to see you," he repeats again, his voice strangely calm. "I was going to drop by soon but you found me first." He laughs a little, the sound mixing with the echoes of falling rain and disappearing into the corners of the room. Still she just sits there, a dull ache throbbing in her chest.

A breath exhales into the air and he slouches, eyebrows furrowing and looking at the ground. "You don't seem too happy." His voice is barely audible but she picks it up in the muteness of the scene, her eyes widening. He doesn't look at her, just stares absently at a wall with an unreadable emotion. He seems so comfortable for the situation, as if all the screaming and angst between them was merely a mix-up.

She doesn't even realize that she's leaning forward, scrambling to all fours. Ice blue eyes return to her at last, surprise registering in them at her furious expression. "Happy?" she asks, her speech tiny and severe. He sits up straighter at her sharp tone and she finally cracks, words spilling out of her mouth, all filters removed.

"You promise me forever, but then leave me high and dry, and then come back just when I could finally get over you, and you expect me to be happy?" He opens his mouth to say something, but she doesn't let him, just storms on, panting from lack of breathing. "Are you just not satisfied with messing me up once? Do you like thinking that you have leverage over someone and having someone pine after you?" His eyebrows rise and she falters for a moment at his hurt expression, but starts up again just as fast. She knows that's not true, that he's not that kind of guy. She knows what she's saying is ridiculous, but all the same she will say it. Because it will make everything easier. Because a clean break would set them free, set them both free. This has to be done. They'll just wind up hurting each other more and more with this hectic dance of pseudo-friendship.

"You think I need you?" she hisses, the words tasting like acid on her tongue. "Did you think that if you came back I'd cry all over you and beg for you to stay? I'm done with this." The last words are final, flat, and her fingernails dig into her palms as she says them. "I am done with you."

He's leaned back on his hands, away from her threatening expression. His eyes are wide, his lips parted, the gleam of polished teeth visible in the depths of his mouth. He blinks once, seeming to recollect himself and ducks his head, his lips pressing together.

"Well, I'm not over you."

It's amazing the impact the words have on her. A shudder goes through her body and she falls back on her heels, shaking and pushing herself away from him. He leans forward, grabbing her hands which try to wander up to her face and cover her eyes. His soft words of comfort just feel like a knife twisting her stomach, like she's trying to keep it in and stunt the bleeding but he's trying to pull it out, assuring her that it'll hurt less that way.

"I never forgot about you," he begs. He turns her face, trying to look her in the eye, but she just closes them, focusing instead on the drumming of rain on the roof. "I'd see something familiar – cherry trees, a book store, - and suddenly you'd be everywhere." His voice is insistent, focused, and so true. The knife twists again, slipping out of her grasp. She latches onto it again, pulling it back in.

"Luka," he murmurs and she closes her eyes tighter, trying to block out the sweet sound. "Please. I don't," his voice gets quieter and his grip on her hands tightens, almost hurting her. "I don't want it to be this way."

A soundless sob works its way out of her and a pair of tears rolls down her face. Her voice is strained, bursting with words that she's not used to saying. Her emotions, she doesn't often put them in words. She doesn't speak her mind. Pulling the feelings out from inside her and pushing them out is something still very new, and very difficult.

"There's nothing left though!" she cries, shaking her head and stopping the water in her eyes. "We'd hurt each other. Who's to say it wouldn't all happen again-" She stops, unable to say more, and just lowers her face so he can't see her cry. There's silence only for a moment as he shifts both of her hands into on and leans down, his mouth next to her ear. What he asks is simple, quiet, but it practically stops her heart.

"Do you want it to be like this?"

She pulls back, trying to escape, but he holds tight, his voice growing more insistent. "Just answer. Just answer." His fingers feel like iron clasps. "Say yes…and I'll leave you alone." Her eyes fly open, focusing on the floor in-between her knees, her ears picking up the strain in those words. Wild adventures, ridiculous conversations, endless silly songs until midnight; those things. Those things.

Set us both free.

No. She doesn't want to be free. She wants the opposite. She wants to be tied down, stuck, together. She wants permanence. She wants him.

Her head shakes slowly from side to side, each movement feeling like she's shaking water out of her hair. She hears him take in a breath and then leans closer, his lips just millimeters away from her skin.

"Then take a leap of faith." She raises her head, eyebrows knitted at the strange saying, and meets his gaze, level and composed. "And then another. Trust each other," he says, almost as if speaking to the air. "Trust that we'll make it work." His hands loosen around hers and instead move under them to cup them from below, rubbing his thumbs across her palms.

"We won't make the same mistakes again. We'll be honest with each other. We'll make new mistakes and become angry, but we'll talk about it and fix it." He leans forward ever so slightly, and she sees the slightest bit of unease there, fear of rebuff. Slowly she leans forward as well, not very much, but enough. He closes his eyes and wraps his fingers around her own. She slips one pinky out from her fist and cradles his in it. His voice is soft, almost a whisper. "And then we'll laugh together." His eyes are soft as they meet hers, a more sincere and serious blue than she has ever seen. "How does that sound?"

Not perfect. They'll be mistakes. But trust. Together. Fights. But fixes. How does that sound?

Is that what you want?

She hears him inhale in surprise as she leans forward, her head resting against his chest. She feels the wet material soak the top of her hair but doesn't move, just tries to send out her feelings through the contact. There's so much bubbling under her lips, words that are important but she can't say. She hopes he understands them.

Yes? Yes. That'll work? That will work. I don't care, I just want you. I missed you. I love you.

Only one sentence comes out her mouth however.

"Do you rehearse these lines or something?" she asks and sighs, pulling her arms up and around his shoulders. "Honestly, where do you learn to speak like that?"

She feels him stiffen in surprise at her touch but quickly relax and bring a hand up to cradle her head closer to him. "I don't know," he says wonderingly, with just a hint of smugness. He shrugs. "I'm just that great I guess."

She smiles, not bothering to reprimand his arrogance, and pulls back a little, just enough to look him in the eye. They are a familiar powder blue, framed by heavy lashes that girls all over the world have fallen in love with. But he's hers. Hers. And…

"You'll have to keep your promise," she whispers almost absentmindedly. He strokes the back of her head and smiles, his eyes closing.

"So selfish are we?" he teases but continues before she can retort.

"I know." His hand is firm on her neck. "I know."

A/N: I hope this didn't turn out too sappy or unrealistic. Their reunion seems a bit too 'simple' but it's the type of thing that would happen if I was in that situation. Straightforward, simple. "What do you want to happen? That's what will happen then."

Anyway, reviews make me happy! There's one more chapter.