I know I know, I haven't uploaded in three weeks! I'm super-whooper sorry for the looooooooong hiatus, guys. ):
I'm probably going to be uploading more now that we have a tortuous two months of waiting ahead of us, but I'll admit that I'm quite content with that ending last night. Eli's "I love you" made me die. I'm dead. I'm dead but I'm a alive but I'm dead.
Thank you for those who were so patient with this story, and I promise I'll try to do better!
"Love was a dream on planet Earth, that fell through the seams, on planet Earth," Clare sings softly, clutching Eli's phone in her hands.
Traffic is exceptionally bad, and the snow is becoming increasingly difficult to drive through. It's coming down harder and harder, and the windshield wipers are on constantly. Eli Goldsworthy has one hand on the steering wheel, and the other on Clare's heart. The way he's humming along to her slightly-off pitch singing with a slight crooked smile on his face is precious, and she loves it. The boy loves her quirkiness, her dorikiness.
"I was fine, though. We didn't have to rush home; especially not in this kind of weather," Clare keeps saying, feeling rather guilty for cutting their breakfast short. Her and her stupid intolerance.
"I don't think your face is supposed to look that green, so no," Eli counters, feeling equally guilty for coming up with such a revolting idea in the first place. Revolting not in a general sense, but more in Clare's sense. He knew she hated coffee and ketchup, so why did he have to cross the line? Him and his stupid ideas.
"You're overreacting. I'm a big girl," Clare shakes her head.
Eli disagrees, but presses his lips together and says nothing.
"Can we bake muffins at home?" she asks suddenly, turning up the heat. The warm air blasts onto her face, and she screws up her face before turning it back down. Eli chuckles lowly, stifling guffaws.
"I don't think we have any flour at home- but we can go run to the store really quick to pick up some," he adds quickly, seeing her face drops. Clare smiles happily at him, and then resumes scrolling down Eli's playlist. He has the strangest variety of artists, ranging from indie rock bands to screamo- the angsty music is usually reserved for those days, but they're in his playlist nonetheless. His playlist has a cute little story to go along with it, actually, and it was when Eli had first developed a crush on her. He programmed a handful of cheery Taylor Swift and Kelly Clarkson songs to impress her, thinking that was fond of those types of music. After teasing him mercilessly for 'liking' such artists while admitting that she preferred rock bands over them any day, Eli swore to never put himself through that kind of embarrassment again- and that meant not pretending to gain her approval.
"Yay!" she says cutely.
"I didn't know you could bake though," he continues conversationally. "That'd make you borderline perfect, and I wouldn't be able to compare."
"I can't," she says cheerily. "I'm probably going to burn down the house."
He looks uneasily at her, wondering if she's kidding.
"We can make a detour here," Clare adds, jerking her head towards her left. "There's a Price Choppers five minutes away."
"Yes master," Eli nods. "Can I kiss you, by the way?"
Clare looks taken aback, but amused just the same. "That came out of nowhere."
"I know. I just like kissing you," he giggles, leaning over to place a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She playfully cringes and shrinks back, vigorously rubbing the spot his lips touched.
"Stop," she complains, smacking him away. "You're driving!"
"I'm not going to crash Morty," he rolls his eyes, retreating reluctantly. "I happen to be a very skilled driver."
"Not with your eyes, you're not," she counters sternly, turning her back on him. Eli lets out a huffy breath, and tightens his grip on the wheel. He keeps his gaze ahead. "You're more irresistible when you're not throwing yourself at me, anyways," Clare says, softening up upon seeing his disappointment.
"Not now, Clare, I'm driving," he says seriously, cracking a smile. A smile on the outside, when truly Clare's rejection troubles him in more ways than one. His knuckles whiten as his grip tightens even more, as he tries to repress the fretting and panic rising within him. He didn't want to be overly-suffocating with his affections for her, but the way she easily turned him down was a tiny bit alarming. He knows that if the roles were reversed, he would cave, no questions asked. He doesn't like to think that he is fonder of her than she is, and he may be over-analyzing in the same way he did in the beginning but rejection is rejection and it didn't feel good regardless. In fact, he's starting to feel a little stupid for throwing himself at her in the first place.
"Maybe you could lend me a hand later," she offers kindly, as he averts his gaze.
"I don't need your pity, Clare," he says rather shortly. "I know you're perfectly well on your own."
"Are you sure?" She looks a bit uncomfortable, and shifts around in her seat.
"Yeah."
Clare looks at him for a long time, debating whether to say what is really on her mind. She didn't like Eli's tone, nor is she fond of the way he was being a tad bit demanding-demanding, she thinks, for a lack of a better word. The way he ushered her out of the restaurant so quickly had been a bit much, though understandable. It is Eli, after all, and she knows he just wants to look out for her. But the guilt trip he's putting her through just for denying his affections, keeping in mind what's most prudent and cautious, lingers in the air like a bad odor. She had to bring it up, even if it is just a small matter. Lack of communication had always let them down. It was always the origin of their fights.
"Eli, what's on your mind? I feel like you're mad at me," she asks steadily, stitching her brows together.
"Nothing's wrong, Clare," he answers brusquely.
"Stop it, Eli. Why are you being so short with me all of a sudden?"
"Nothing, Clare," he says in the same, brisk voice.
Exasperation bubbles up inside of her, and she folds her arms across her chest. "Please don't tell me you're upset because I wouldn't let you kiss me. You're driving, for Heaven's sake!"
"You're being ridiculous, Clare. I'm not going to get mad over something so stupid," he scoffs, refusing to meet her eyes. "I'm just…mad that there's so much traffic, and I really need to go pee."
A dime excuse, Clare thinks bitterly.
"So what's on the agenda for tonight?" Eli asks, changing the subject.
"I don't know. Maybe we could watch a movie?"
"Maybe one of the chick flicks you like so much?" Eli smirks, lightening up a little.
"Oh shush, you like Leonardo DiCaprio, and you know it."
"Hmm," Eli says fondly, reaching over to take her hand. Clare, with an uneasy feeling that things haven't completely blown over yet, withdraws from him without thinking much of it. It was an impulsive movement. One she didn't intentionally do to make matters worse.
Eli, however, takes it the wrong way completely.
"Once I can understand, but twice?" he says, sounding both wounded and frustrated. "If you want some space, I can take a hint."
"You're taking things too seriously," Clare blurts in desperate irritation. Eli's eye flash, and with a gulping realization, she knows he's taken it the wrong way again. She wracks her brain upon seeing his expression for what other possible ideas he could be getting, hastily searching and searching before halting.
Crap.
"Eli, I didn't mean it like that…" she adds quietly.
"Then how exactly did you mean it?" he asks, voice dangerously low and calm.
"I…I-"
"If you want to break-up, just say so," he says resentfully. "Nobody's stopping you. If you think I'm being too serious, by all means, go ahead."
"Eli-"
"If I'm suffocating you too much, just let me know. I don't want to be a burden to you, Clare."
"That's not what I meant!" she cries, yanking off her seatbelt and twisting herself around to face him. "You're taking words right out of my mouth."
"More efficient than waiting around for you to say them, anyway," Eli mutters acidly.
"Why do you think I want to break up with you? Where is all this insecurity coming from?" Clare demands, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him vigorously. He allows himself to be shaken, and just sits limp like a ragdoll with his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel.
"I've barely seen you for a week while you were working on your room, and now that we finally have time together, you want space," he says through gritted teeth.
"So, what? You feel like we're falling apart?" Clare says in disbelief. "We've never been closer than we are now! Things were way worst before and you know it!"
"How can I know anything?" He says, raising his voice. His eyes are like daggers as they flicker back and forth from the road ahead to Clare. "The steaks have never been higher before!"
Inference, inference, inference. All Clare could do is try to infer what Eli is truly feeling, and to her astonishment, it's not that off par from what she had been feeling all along. It's like they're on the same page, but on completely different sides of the universe. Eli is doubting her love for him, and it's both offensive and infuriating because he is so hell-bent on believing the worst. He's scared, just like how she's scared. But unlike her, he's coping in an angry, skeptical manner that isn't at all healthy.
It's probably safe to say that lack of communication is really screwing them over now.
"I'm not going anywhere, I promise," Clare whispers, reading his mind. "You have to understand, though, that living together, we're not going to be in an epic honeymoon phase forever. You know that-"
"I don't know what I know!" Eli shouts at her, slamming down on the brakes. He looks at her with anguished, angry eyes. He's frightened deep down, she can see it. He's also frustrated and confused, but Clare can't process that fully at the moment. Because at the moment, a loud, honking noise emanates from behind them, causing the, to turn around in unison. A huge truck is moving full speed towards them, and the slippery ice beneath does nothing to help.
"Eli!" Clare screams.
The last thing they can remember before they black out is the other's frantic eyes. A sickening crunching sound is heard through Eli's ears, and he knows instantly that it came from beside him. A rush of coldness hits him harder than the impact. He feels cold.