Quote of the Chapter:

"He loves to say
he hates me, meaning his need to use me
confuses him." - Every Cell in this Country Looks Like a Choice You Can Walk In and Out Of, Justin Phillip Reed

Chapter Eighteen: (Leave me crying at the) Movies (why don't you?)

Shivering, Elizabeth adjusted her jacket, staring blankly at her phone screen as she watched the numbers switch from seven thirty to seven thirty one, her bright smile on her wallpaper a distant thing of the past. Nipping her skin, the cold autumn air pinched at her, preyed on her huddled form on the doorstep, but she made no effort to move. Instead she remained seated, phone in hand, lip in teeth and voice caught in her throat.

Like a firm hand wrapped around her throat, tightness clamped it up. Heavy, leaden tears, molten, built up in her eyes, filled with salt and misery as she lingered on the doorstep. Alone. Cold. Hungry. But she wasn't doing anything to fix it. Instead Elizabeth was stuck in her own world, fixed to this doorstep as she retreated into her hurting heart.

Once again, she and Meliodas had fell into an argument. An explosive one this time. Unlike most times - the times where it would end with a reluctant truce, or a peace-offering that came in the form of bribe - this time was serious. Lasting. With just one sentence, one statement, he had crossed a line, tore out her heart and ripped it to shreds, tangled heart strings and all.

Now, an hour later, Elizabeth sat on Diane's doorstep, teeth chattering with cold and her lip bleeding from pressure. For an entire hour, she had not stopped crying. Ever since she stormed off, grabbing a random pair of shoes in her fury, never looking back, she had cried and sobbed and wailed. Profusely. Strangers veered well out of her way when they spotted her on the streets; kinder souls offered her tissues and tried to steer her toward the calmer atmosphere of local shops and restaurants. Even Hawk, the son of a local business owner, had urged for Elizabeth to stop for a moment and try and cheer up. Gently, he had taken her hand, steered her right into his mother's cafe and sat her down at a table closest to the windows. Without being asked, he then fetched her a warm coffee - "on the house of course" - and gave her a bundle of tissues.

Hawk, bless his soul, had been a little angel to her. Even in her shitty mood, Elizabeth could not deny that. Like a true little helper, a good friend, he had sat with her for half an hour, asking her if she needed anything and never pressing for any real conversation. Instead he had let her cry, let her release the pent-up feelings trapped within her mind.

And it had felt great. Refreshing. Almost good enough to allow her to forget it all - forget what he had said.

But then she would remember:

"I don't need you around."

More tears slipped from her eyes: hot, scorching, searing. Like molten lava, like hissing, boiling flames, they burned and branded her skin with sadness as Elizabeth choked down a sob. He didn't really mean it. Meliodas never truly meant it. Whenever he got mad, whenever it was a bad day, he never truly meant the words that left his mouth. She knew that. He said that. For just over a year, Elizabeth had accepted that truth, that excuse, and had gotten along with it just fine. So why now, why a year later, does it feel so personal? Why does it feel like he has grabbed a knife, serrated at the edges, and sawed away at each of her heartstrings? Why?

More numbers passed on her phone. Seven forty. Seven fifty. Eight o'clock. Another half hour. Another half hour spent in bitter tears and broken sobs, wallowing away over someone who doesn't care - couldn't care - and yet she desperately tried to believe that he did. That he wanted to.

Loud laughter echoed from the building behind her, emanating from an open window. Just from the noise alone, Elizabeth knew that Diane and the others were having a great time. Sharing stories, telling jokes, already getting on to taking the piss out of King and his childhood favourites - yeah, Elizabeth could picture it all so clearly.

Long and angular, Ban would be sprawled in the corner of one couch, legs kicked up on Diane's coffee table, one arm draped around Elaine. Said blonde would giggle, quietly admonishing her partner for teasing her older brother so much. All the while King would be a red mess, the tips of his ears burning bright tomato as Diane tried to put on the next film, yelling at Ban to shut up the entire time. Altogether, the group would be cosy, friendly, familiar. Only good vibes, positive vibes, could flourish on movie nights.

Usually, when Elizabeth and Meliodas did come, they'd easily slot into that easy-going atmosphere. Effortlessly, Elizabeth would her snag her spot on the armchair, a mountain of snacks stacked atop her fluffy blanket - which she would later end up distributing due to her inability to finish it all.

Meliodas, on the other hand, varied in his habits. Unlike Elizabeth, he was not a creature of habit; spontaneity, randomness, was often on his agenda. Some days you'd find him hanging around Ban, both of them taking the piss out of King or seeing who could catch the most popcorn kernels from the furthest distance. Other days he'd be glued to Elizabeth's side, stealing from her stash or contentedly satisfied with just being around her.

Today, however, he did neither of those things. Today was the rare occasion where he did not show up at all.

More time passed. Too much time passed - and soon Elizabeth was dehydrated from her sobbing, her throat dry and her face feeling tight. Her phone had barely any charge left, the time being much later than was appropriate to be sitting on a doorstep.

Within the house, Elizabeth could hear her friends still. King was the more dominant voice, saying something about needing space and how he was going to the kitchen to make some more popcorn. Ban's voice followed - summoning a small smile from Elizabeth as she glanced up from her phone. Ban always was someone who could brighten her cloudy days; at times he even broke through Meliodas' fog.

Blinking, Elizabeth wiped at her tear-streaked face, before glancing at her phone. Another fifteen minutes had passed. For one hour - more than an hour - she had waited. Cried. No longer would she cry, no longer would she wait. One hour - the time she had spent - was already too much. There was no more time left for her to spend.

Dusting off her jeans and sighing as she calmly got up, Elizabeth glanced back at Diane's front door. Meeting her gaze, the metal numbers hammered onto the wooden material glimmered dimly in the streetlamps' light like stars - signs of fate and fortune.

Taking it as a sign, Elizabeth turned away and unlocked her phone, scrolling through her contacts. Within a matter of seconds she had her phone to her ear, gnawing her lip anxiously as she stared at the twilit autumn sky.

Ring. Ring. Ring. One dial tone. Two. On the third they pick up.

"Hello?"

"Are you free tonight?" Elizabeth garbled out, face feeling warm from the verbal diarrhea she had just spewed. Normally, she would exchange pleasantries and be polite to people she spoke to. Tonight, it seemed, that habit was broken - much like the habits of many other people she knew.

"Yeah, I am," He responded, the question obvious in his voice. "Why?"

"I just wanted to do something fun," Elizabeth replied, shrugging as she turned the corner at the end of Diane's street. "You up for it?"

That wasn't a question. Both she and he knew that he would say yes, would jump at the chance to know her better. So it didn't phase Elizabeth at all when she got that exact response, the sound of a car engine coming to life in the background. Exactly as she thought it would do. Warm, electric, a shock traveled down her spine as Elizabeth felt herself grin. Perhaps, for once, things would be different from her new normal. Perhaps, for once, she will actually know what will happen next.

As if on cue he asked her, "So where are we meeting?"

And Elizabeth knew what she would answer with. She knew that he would be there, at the place she shares, at the time she says. So with a bounce in her step, she rushed toward the closest bus stop, already sharing her spontaneous location over the phone.

"The bowling alley by the quayside," She announced, lips twisting into an infectious grin. "I'll meet you there in ten."

With that, she hung up, hopping on the approaching red bus with barely a lingering afterthought. Tonight, like everyone else, she was going to have fun. Tonight, no longer would Elizabeth Liones wait.