A/N: I'm just gonna post a bunch of chapters now. This version is behind by like... A LOT. I might actually delete it from here because the following on this site isn't very large. Or I'll post the chapters in chunks (daily) because there's quite a few.

Till next time,

D.L.D

Quote of the Chapter:

"Memories, even your most precious ones, fade surprisingly quickly. But I don't go along with that. The memories I value most, I don't ever see them fading."
― Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go

Chapter Twenty-One: You (make me feel) at home

She couldn't let the feeling go. Even though Elizabeth was tucked up and cozy, hiding away at Jericho's because she knew that Meliodas would come looking for her at Elaine's or Diane's, Elizabeth could still feel her own agitation, her own restlessness, growing with every second. Ever since she'd taken that decision to go bowling instead of movie night, ever since she had decided to just not care, that feeling had been there.

Freedom, Elizabeth was tempted to call it. Intoxicating freedom that overwhelmed her senses and made her reckless and guilt-free - just like Meliodas seemed to be most of the time. It was a feeling that made your veins feel electrified, amped up, filled to brim with energy that just made you want to go out and do anything and everything you could ever possibly try.

But Elizabeth knew better than that. That was why when Mael suggested playing a game of pool after the bowling alley closed, Elizabeth immediately called it a night. All too easily she had split ways with him, called trusty old Jericho and hopped onto the quickest bus headed toward the Lewisham area.

When Elizabeth eventually got to Jericho's flat, nearly at eleven o'clock at night, she had been welcomed with open arms. Hot chocolates at the ready, Bride Wars ready to play on the TV and a bundle of fluffy blankets piled onto the sofa, Jericho was well-equipped to deal with heartbreak damage control; she wasn't a stranger to the crippling nonchalance of men.

Nevertheless, even with the company and the comedy and the soothing caramel of Jericho's secret recipe, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel lonely. There was too much quiet, too much comfort, for her to truly feel relaxed. With all the chatter filling her mind, the endless thoughts that harassed her brain, Elizabeth needed noise, distractions, to keep herself occupied.

So when Jericho groused about some big party they were missing, thrown at an old school friend's place in Croydon, Elizabeth jumped at the opportunity to become thoughtless, careless and free once more. In a matter of seconds she was raiding Jericho's room, pulling out outfits and equipping herself with makeup and hair tools.

"You're in no shape to party, Elizabeth. I strongly advise against it," Jericho had told her as Elizabeth forced her into a pretty black dress. Honestly, Elizabeth was stunned that her friend even owned such a girly item; most of Jericho's wardrobe consisted of pretty androgynous outfit styles, leaning more toward the masculine side.

"Well you don't know what's best for me," Elizabeth had retorted, zipping up the back of her friend's dress. A coy smile then graced her lips as she pushed Jericho toward her mirror, allowing her to see the dress on herself. "Plus there might be a ton of cute singles there~"

Using the incentive of handsome men and gorgeous women was a dirty trick for Elizabeth to play - she knew that. Jericho couldn't ever resist the trap of meeting someone who would finally end her string of endless heartbreak; deviously, selfishly, Elizabeth was using that to her advantage, aware of just how far Jericho would go.

"Fine," The woman had pouted, her cheeks an apple red as she crossed her arms over her chest. Unable to resist the flare of fanning out an enticingly flowy skirt, she gave a little twirl in front of her mirror. "But I'm driving."

There'd never been a better arrangement. Elizabeth's goal for the night was to enjoy herself as much as humanly possible; Jericho's goal was to get laid. Everything, from the driving duty to the location, was the perfect setup. Everything was laying down the foundations for Elizabeth to feel young again: free and careless and dipping her toes into the pool of carefree young adulthood.

That was until she bumped into him.

"Hey stranger," She'd grinned, offering him the remnants of her pain-relief. Since he wasn't there and nothing else felt like it was working, Elizabeth had turned to her old friend Mary Jane. Once used by an Elizabeth unable to sleep and cope during her exams, it became a crutch during her early adulthood. She'd only stopped all those years ago because she realised what she was using it for: pain.

Gratefully, he'd taken her half-dead joint - looking as if he'd needed it just as much as she did. Overall, they both looked a wreck. Elizabeth, with her runny makeup and glittery borrowed cocktail dress; Meliodas with his red-rimmed eyes and creased shirt. Speaking of, she had to ask him about that - about why he was in his work getup when he clearly had no intention to work tonight.

"So," Elizabeth knew she shouldn't be watching him, watching the smoke that left his lips as she tried to recollect her tangled train of thought. Instead her mind settled for an awkward popping noise as she fired out the most stupid question to ask, "What do we do now? You up for a messy makeup?"

Oh yes, messy makeup! Elizabeth's own way of admitting that she was lonely, hurting, resigned to pining for the impossible love that she would never obtain. Originally, messy makeup was created after they had joked about their first kiss being a silly confusion of platonic love for romantic love; it had happened after their first big fight.

Then, like a tradition, messy makeup seemed to become their way of solving most fights. If she upset Meliodas? Elizabeth would play messy makeup. If he upset her? Meliodas would play messy makeup. Sometimes they called it out, said it by name; most times they just ended up naked together, ignoring the obvious truth that eventually they'd have to be straight with one other.

What Elizabeth didn't expect, at least tonight, was for Meliodas to initiate it - no response needed as he gave her a kiss so passionate that Elizabeth was certain that he had to be feeling what she was feeling, had to be pining for her in the same way she pined for him.

Nevertheless she was proven wrong, her feelings ultimately stung as he'd changed his mind; he told her she wasn't in her right mind. So close, she had been, so damn close to getting proof - real proof - of his emotions and he'd shut her down again. And of course Elizabeth wasn't going to accept that from him - not when she'd been dealing with his erratic behaviour for years on end and had been bottling up everything she ever felt inside of her heart. No way.

Boiling with outrage, filled to the brim with confused frustration, she'd just dismissed him again. Storming off, molten tears streaking her already makeup-smudged face, Elizabeth Liones left Meliodas King all by himself once more. Yet again. Like she always seemed to do these days.

In the end she managed to sneak her way back to Jericho, interrupting the poor woman's chance at chatting up a rather good-looking graduate from some distant land that Elizabeth hadn't really bothered to remember. All she cared about was leaving, patching up the open, weeping wound left by Meliodas' rejection. His blatant care for her well-being which she knew was only an act because he didn't care. He'd never cared.

So why did he always act like he did?

That one question was looping in her brain, tangling her nerve-endings, as Elizabeth lay awake, flicking through old pictures, old memories, on her gradually dying phone. Even now, cosy and warm and bundled up in a cocoon on Jericho's sofa, Elizabeth couldn't sleep. At all. No matter how hard she tried to, how much she wanted to, Elizabeth couldn't sleep. Instead she found herself refreshing the memory banks, replaying moments shared between herself and Meliodas, that she doubted would ever fade; even if the present tried to tarnish them.

Over ten years were documented on her tiny metal plate, almost their entire adolescence mapped out on a glass screen. They started with random photo-bombings, a recurring scruffy blonde pulling faces in the backgrounds of her group pictures that she'd failed to notice in her youth; most recent were the pictures taken on Elizabeth's last sick day, showcasing her spreading her disease to her insufferable roommate.

Overall, they were all lovely memories. Memories that meant so much to Elizabeth, each delicately packaged and wrapped up in different pockets of her body's memory. All of those memories, all of those experiences, were liked prized gifts to her; she took care of them with all she had. Even the picture from when they'd first truly met, taken in front of that rain-speckled McDonald's window.

"Damn it," A soft curse. Elizabeth frowned as Meliodas' name popped up on her phone, her entire screen informing her about his attempt to contact her, clear the ice. Not that he could clear this entire blizzard of hurt. Oh no. Not this time.

Shaking her head, Elizabeth declined the call, ignoring the stabbing pain that purged her chest. This time she wouldn't make it easy for him. This time she would make him learn; Meliodas had to understand that she had feelings too, fragile, delicate feelings that could only take so much of this constant hot-and-cold.

Nevertheless, declining his call had been tough. Dealing with the feelings leftover from declining him were just as terrible. But it had to be done. As Jericho had told her - a veteran to many heartbreaks - Elizabeth had to put a foot down. Her first step toward that was declining his calls.

'Ok, maybe I overreacted about the dog. He's kinda cute.'

Instantly, Elizabeth felt her resolve wavering as she blinked at her screen, surprised by the words listed in the notification. Already she could feel her hand trembling, threatening to respond to his text, urging her to show that she did care, that she was also sorry, but she also wanted Meliodas to recognise that he was wrong too.

Responding, though, would show a crack. Responding wouldn't be showing boundaries or putting a foot down. Responding would show that Elizabeth Liones would forgive always Meliodas King if he used the right words, the right tactics, to thaw the thinned ice around her aching heart.

'He's my new roommate now,': Another notification, another heartbeat knocking against her ribs. Elizabeth couldn't help it anymore. Not anymore. Already missing him, already surrounding herself in memories of him, she had to check up on Meliodas. For the puppy - she told herself - for the poor, little thing she had saved from the streets. A flimsy excuse.

Biting her lip, Elizabeth opened the second text, her suspicions confirmed as Meliodas had sent a picture of him cuddling with the puppy. Already weakened, Elizabeth's resolve shattered; Meliodas always was an animal lover - that didn't make the image any less impacting. In fact, it made Elizabeth feel as if maybe she was getting someone, winning tiny battles in their larger war.

Satisfied with the idea of actually winning, gaining some advantage, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile as she sent her reply. With a press of the send button, she turned her phone off and prepared to fall asleep. If she wanted to truly see if she had the upper-hand, she'd have to catch Meliodas off-guard; she'd have to get up early.

Plan set in action, Elizabeth fell asleep with a dopey grin. Maybe not all hope was lost: maybe Meliodas was finally seeing the truth.