Quote of the Chapter:

"Rejection tastes like ashes,
Acrid, bitter.
It sounds
Like the whispers of voices behind my back.
'he didn't want her. He dumped her'." - Rejection, Jenny Sullivan

Chapter Thirty-Three: (Shatter me like) Verglas

There was no avoiding it anymore: she and Meliodas needed to talk. Months had passed since they had last spoken. Whenever they did cross paths, littered between the hours of Bible study and classes, there was nothing but tension, nothing but a withheld glare and a twitch to her eye. There was nothing Elaine could do to soothe the burn of the betrayal. There was nothing she could say to help patch it up.

But words did travel. All around the community, journeying as whispers and quiet asides, people did talk about their falling out. Countless peers had rushed up to Elizabeth to ask if it was true. Glad that she had finally come to her senses, Jelamet (her friend from Bible study) was jubilant at the news. Even her mother seemed rather pleased with the absence of Meliodas, referring to him as the wayward child.

Six months had passed. Six months of sneaky stares across the classroom; six months of passing each other in the hallway, acting as if they were complete strangers. Six months. Half a year. And that half a year felt like certain hell in her brain.

Ever since they had first met, Elizabeth had never gone more than a day without bumping into Meliodas. Even before they had introduced themselves to each other - that fateful rainy day in the middle of a stormy street - she had caught glimpses of the infamous blonde around her school. A well-known name, a well-known face, he wasn't easy to evade; he wasn't someone you didn't know.

When they had become friends Elizabeth realised that being his friend meant being around him more often. Time that she would have spent quietly studying away had quickly turned into afternoons walking over the green, Meliodas kicking an old football along as he spoke to her. Slowly, over the school year, he had wormed his way into her life. Gradually, oh so gradually, he had become a foundation.

But when he left - when she had confronted him on the truth - that foundation had been destroyed. Like a ten tonne wrecking ball, like a million explosives, that argument had completely destroyed the foundations he had laid.

Now, Elizabeth didn't know what to do with herself. At least she didn't until the rumours came her way.

News of Meliodas had traveled to her. Horrible news. Down the grapevine, originating from his crowd and then stretching down to hers, the news of his infrequent presence in the area was growing. But that wasn't worrying her. No, it was the whispers about dangerous people, shady people, nudging him slowly into the depths of their sticky webs.

Unknown cars and late night sightings. Coming into school with a scruffy look and an odd shuffle to his gait. Yeah, those things worried her. As they increased, they worried her more.

So, six months later, Elizabeth had decided to finally break her vow of silence; several years later and Elizabeth was back in the same boat, heart thumping as fast as a hummingbird's wings as she stood before her front door.

Nearly two weeks had passed this time. Two weeks of radio silence on her end, Scotland serving as a wonderful distraction from the man she'd left behind in London. Well, that was how Elizabeth would like to portray it as. To anyone from the outside looking in - a pesky, snarky Jericho and a perpetually concerned Diane - she was flourishing up north, taking the time to relax and reconsider her direction in life. In reality, she had been calculating her next move.

All those evenings spent with Zeldris and Gelda, the talk with Arthur, had finally rattled some sense into Elizabeth's brain. Now that everything was out in the open, now that they both had the opportunity to be honest, she needed to act. Now, in the calm after the storm, the gentle lap of the fleeting waves of a sea storm, Elizabeth Liones needed to catch Meliodas off guard.

That was why she knocked on the door, loud, prompt, purposeful. Not two seconds passed before it was opened.

"We need to talk," Were her first words to him. Still prompt, still professional, still restrained. It took all she had to withhold the urge to bury him within a hug, to scold him for being such an irresponsible, thoughtless prick, to stop the tears that brimmed at the ridge of her eyes. Oh, it took so much of her. So, so much. Enough to make her fail the eye-contact test.

"Elizabeth?" Meliodas. Incredulous, almost wide-eyed as he gaped at her.

Unlike last time, he looked a mess. Wild blonde hair somehow even more untamed, dark circles rimming the pit of his eyes, he looked like a student who was hooked up to an IV of coffee and straight caffeine. Twitchy, antsy, almost completely out of touch - was that what he was? Out of touch? No, he looked more relieved, happy to see her there. He wasn't even able to hide the slight smile that tugged at his gaping mouth.

"In the flesh," She couldn't help the slight laugh. No, for him she would always soften and crumble. But only for a moment. "And I want answers. Now."

Noticeable, the change was instant. Stiffening his spine, angling his brows, the frustration - the venom - of spite easily replaced the momentary joy upon his face. Even without the prior knowledge of his body language Elizabeth would have been able to sense it. No translation was needed. Not a single 'go away', 'fuck off' or 'come back tomorrow.' No, she was used to the danger signs. Maybe that was why his attitude didn't phase her.

"So that's why you came back?" Meliodas shook his head. Glaring - as if he had been the one hurt in this situation. The one who lived a life built off meaningless, avoidable lies. "To get your answers."

"Cry me a river Meliodas," Elizabeth rolled her eyes, arms folding over her chest - keeping her racing heart sealed within its bone cage. Fixing her face into its own glare, she continued, "I'm not the one who lied."

"Well if you knew why I needed to lie, maybe you'd understand," He rebutted, sharp and offering the 'we're no debating this' look. That was a line she shouldn't cross; that was a line they usually didn't cross with one another. But today was nothing usual, last week was nothing usual, and so Elizabeth would ignore all the warning signs. Today she was going to get her answers.

"That's why I'm here today," Elizabeth didn't dare to smile. No, it would only enrage him further. However, she couldn't hide the entitlement, the slight raise to her chin as she glanced at him. "I want answers."

For a moment there was silence. A slow blink, a confused look. Then he bounced back again.

"How was Scotland?"

"Don't deflect," Elizabeth warned, iron glare as unwavering as a block of thick metal. Past her might have taken the bait, but not present her. Never present her.

"I'm not - deflecting," Meliodas responded, teeth grit, nerves bent, as he turned away from her and stormed away. Did he leave the door open on purpose? "It was a genuine question."

Genuine question, her ass. Genuine intent, her back foot. No doubt Meliodas only said that to try and distract her. No doubt he was disappearing farther into the apartment, retreating to an area in which he would have the upper ground. Animals - people - tended to do that when they felt threatened; home was meant to be a safe space.

Too bad she didn't feel entirely safe around him.

"Scotland was fine," Elizabeth took in a deep breath, trying to remain calm as she closed the front door behind herself. Immediately she noticed the lack of the usual scents: her trademark candles, the fresh aroma of Comfort as it wafted through the air. With only one of them around, those scents of hers had died and withered, faded into memory. "But I doubt you've been fine these past two weeks."

As much as he would deny it - could deny it - that much was obvious. From the stack of laundry sitting there, to even the drawn curtains in the living room. Without her Meliodas lived the life of a literal vampire, a reckless recluse, hiding away from the world during the day and only popping out at night whenever he really had to.

Honestly, Elizabeth wouldn't be surprised if he slept during the day. Without her around there wouldn't be much reason for him to stay up.

"I've been alright," Meliodas was back. Still thunderous, still moody, his annoyance was obvious as he walked past her, right toward the kitchen. "I can look after myself, you know."

"I never said you couldn't," Elizabeth responded coolly, watching as he got on with things. Without her.

"You implied it," Was his quip. Not a funny one. No, it wasn't funny at all. Not with the sourness it left in her gut, the aching, hollow sensation it carved within her heart.

More silence stretched between them, filled with the pointless tics of the clock and its hands. How long had passed? One moment, a million, an entire decade? Maybe. Maybe not. Honestly, Elizabeth wouldn't know. Too busy, too thoughtful, too tight-throated and hurt she didn't know much of anything anymore. Not with her crumbling resolve and the obvious evidence that Meliodas didn't want her around. Not with the proof, the real proof, of how much he didn't need her.

Yes, that was what hurt most: he didn't need her. Just as he had said, just as he always said, Meliodas didn't need Elizabeth. Her company was a bonus; her friendship was a pro that came with many cons.

Really, by himself, he was better. At least, that was what he was telling her. Despite the bloodshot eyes and semi-scattered apartment, he was doing fine.

Now it was her turn to do the same.

"Look, I didn't come here to make things worse," Elizabeth garbled out, cheeks feeling warm as she watched him load a wash, not even bothering to ask her what to do. Not anymore. Not like when they were kids, panicking as they tried to hide the evidence of their wild dance in the rain.

"It sure doesn't feel that way," Meliodas muttered, turning to face her with a skeptical glance as he shut the washing machine door. Not a new look. Not a new look at all. But now it had a new feeling, a new sensation of feeling like a failure; the only problem was Elizabeth struggled to exactly pin it down, name it for what it was.

Placing a hand on her hip, she asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're only here to rub in how well you're doing," Meliodas sighed, leaning against the washing machine. Releasing a loud jetting noise, the drum filled with water as he stared at her, green eyes filled with a cryptic emotion. "While I'm here wasting away, regressing into old bad habits."

"I never said that," Shaking her head, Elizabeth immediately frowned. Stepping toward him she showed her first sign of crumbling resolve. "I never even- "

"Yeah, but you're implying it," Meliodas shrugged, nonchalant, careless, but he was anything but. And she knew that. Damn it, Elizabeth knew as much. But she kept her mouth shut as he continued, "You always think you're right. You always think you know everything. Just like last time."

"This is nothing like last time," Taking a step back, Elizabeth retreated. He was fine without her. He didn't want her around. Why bother to try and make him feel better?

"So why are you here?" Meliodas mused. Again, the strange look. A raise to his brow, an odd expression filling his tired eyes. "Why are you looking for answers that you know I can't give?"

"Because," Elizabeth began.

"Because?"

"Because I missed you, you idiot!" Elizabeth cried out, face definitely as red as a fire hydrant. Unable to look at him, unable to bear herself, she bit into her lower lip as she turned away, "Sure, it looked like I was having a great time in Scotland, but I was completely miserable because all my mind seemed to ever focus on was you. But you wouldn't know that, would you?" Don't let the tears fall. Don't crumble the solid resolve. "You're too wrapped up in your own shit to ever think about how it affects me. That's why I wonder why I keep trying to get through to your conceited brain. All you ever do is focus on yourself."

"Yeah, I know," Quiet, gentle, Meliodas responded with a solemn edge to his voice. He wasn't looking at her - no he was looking at her, watching her as he spoke, "I wonder about that too."

"Why do you keep trying to get through to me?" Because I know you can do better. "It never works." It can - you can if you try. "You're wasting your own time."

"No I'm not," Whether it was her thoughts or true words speaking, Elizabeth let it out. Honest, simple, short. There was no point in lying about this sort of stuff.

"So why do you keep doing it?" Sighing, Meliodas shook his head. Maybe he was just as beat up about this too. Maybe he always spent hours, days, weeks thinking about this all - about how nothing can ever go to plan. "Why do you keep putting yourself in the same sad situation?"

"Because I love you," That wasn't meant to slip out. Ever since she'd slipped it out, all those years ago, pale faced and vomit-smeared, she'd promised to never say it again. Yet, she had. Face burning, heart racing, Elizabeth Liones admitted the truth, "And I missed you, Meliodas."

"That's a lie," He instantly shook his head. Tight jaw, balled fists, eyes fixed to the floor, he leaned on the counter for support. "We both know that's a lie."

"It's not a lie."

"Then it's a dream," Meliodas corrected. Still the same, still locked off, still distancing himself from the one person who had only wanted to share everything with him. Everything. "One that died long ago."

"Meliodas," Elizabeth paused, pursing her lips as she looked at him. Meliodas: her friend, her roommate, her unobtainable love. Never before had he been like this, so closed off and standoffish. Even all those years ago, when they had first met - when this had first happened - he had never been so desperate to push her away. To keep her away.

Tears welling in her eyes, throat feeling tight, Elizabeth dared to ask, "Why can't you just accept it?"

"Because I'm the wrong person to waste your time on," Finally he looked at her. Filled with meaning, filled with the unmistakable wateriness of tears, his eyes said it all. "And I think that you should leave while you still can."