𝙱𝙴𝚈𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟶𝟹
summary: ellie and dina finally get to talk, you see her again at julia’s party
warnings: mentions of drug abuse and mental health issues, some description of injury, ellies jealous again, angst with comfort in later chapters
a/n: there’s a lana reference hidden in here if you can find it. this took so incredibly fucking long and i don’t even have an excuse (other than that this one is really long), i’m just really lazy 😬, see you next year. i hate this, not even fucking around, it feels so rushed even tho it took a month and a half to post 😶🌫️ it’s so long and barely any of it is about the two of them together but I SWEAR it’s so necessary for the next chapter cuz they’re literally gonna be together for the entirety of it… DONT STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE
tag list: @diddiqueen, @amberputh, @fatbootymuncher (dude.), @sapphointhe21stcenturyposts, @jadelovesyou00, @ravyaryn.
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Ellie is back in that room.
She never left.
Fluorescent lights overhead are blurred by an influx of tears as she sits by the hospital bed, scratching at and clinging to his cold and still body, sobbing like a bedlamite with blood drenching her clothes fresh carmine.
It was pouring out of him like it was desperate to escape and would not stop no matter how desperately she tried to bar the floodgate, seal the supermassive black hole with blockade of her pitiable palms.
She's felt this fear before, this helplessness, over and over. That pain is familiar.
And that glaring screech never quiets, always tormenting her, getting louder and louder as she watches Joel slip away, kicking, begging and screaming. She feels like one of those motes of dust that hover in mid-air with no limbs, no sway. It gets so loud, waves crashing against the walls of her skull like a tsunami, flushing her brain out of the night terror and jolting her heaving body upright.
She clutches her chest, grappling at the reddened skin, feeling that pain as raw and real as the day she had actually been in that fucking hospital. With a heavy head and a body scrawled with beads of sweat, she stumbles to her feet and strains to focus her mind on getting away, anywhere else, in spite of the crushing throb of blood rushing through her.
She cannot fill her lungs, each sharp and desperate intake of air feeling like gritty sand scratching her throat, and she needs to get out right now or else… or else- fuck!
She doesn’t know! But she can feel it, and it's bad- real bad. She can feel it deep in the knotted-up pit of her stomach, and it’s making her retch from nausea.
Her vision’s already blurring and the rest of the world melts away into a distorted sway of formless shapes and colors, overwhelmed by a pounding sense of terror. Holy shit, she can’t feel her face. She can’t feel her face. She needs to get out. Why are her legs suddenly so weak? She’s telling them to move but they won’t. Get out of here. She need to get to the door to outside. Fresh air. Right now.
Before she knows it, she’s stumbling out the wooden door and slumping onto the cold wooden planks of the veranda, hit with a wave of cool night air, prickling her clammy skin with goosebumps. She squeezes her eyes shut tight and never loosens the hold she has on her thumping chest, all focus placed on calming its assault, and then she feels it.
The gentle nudge of a wet snout against her hand, pulling her out of her mind. Ellie’s eyes meet the culprit sat beside her with his tongue hanging out as he pants excitedly.
She buries her hands in his matted fur. The sensation of it running through her fingers is like an anchor. It was one of the techniques they taught her at rehab, and she wheezed out a tired laugh in pride at her studiousness. Like a tidal wave, the panic ebbed, receding into the expanse of water beyond.
The scruffy shepherd dog nudged his head into her leg this time and Ellie groaned in disgust, still whispering a strained and quiet,
“Thank you, buddy.”
Head up to the sky, she counts each star her eye can capture to bring herself down, each constellation so much clearer back here than in the city, so much brighter now. Even the night air is a little crisper, filling her to the brim in a deep, stuttered sigh. As she sits there, her phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out, halting when she reads the sender’s name.
Ellie stares at the screen for a while, keeping her fingers deep within the tufts of fur beside her but her frayed nerves don't spark. She shoves the phone into the front pocket of her hoodie, not bothering to type out a response. Dina knows she’s seen it.
When she finally retreats to that haunted bedroom, she doesn’t bother trying to sleep. Those motes and flecks of decayed memories still linger in your and Ellie’s old apartment days after her eventual return from the godforsaken motel. Every couple of minutes she lifts a stiff arm out to let them flutter between her calloused fingers, glowing in the honeyed light of her bedside lamp.
Sometimes, the fact that your shift ends at 4,
“This is absolutely unacceptable!”
brings you an unimaginable flurry of joy,
“And I won’t be coming here again!”
because dealing with this for an entire day would probably make you catatonic.
You do your best to keep your facial muscles flexed into an expression that comes across as even mildly concerned, because you couldn’t give a fuck less if you tried, and now you’re just counting down the seconds till this boomer asshole turns around and leaves.
God, why is he still standing here?
Eventually, he walks out with all the cadence of a nine year old, and Nathan is patting your shoulder all reassuringly as he laughs at his own joke which you completely tuned out, and now you have to force yet another fake-laugh, and holy shit, this is the worst.
You spend the rest of your shift sort-of hovering around the espresso machines, pretending to be present. When the digits on your phone hit 16:00, you huff as you undo the finicky knot at the back of your apron and hurl it onto the counter before hurrying out.
You’d deal with the mildly irritating consequences of that dramatic exit tomorrow. For now, you just needed to get home and get into bed ASAP.
The front door slams shut, shaking the walls. You’re bounding up the stairs to your bedroom, flinging the door open when you get to it, before stopping in your frenetic movements at the sight of Alexis perched on the edge of your bed, scrolling on her phone.
You forgot she didn’t work on a Saturday.
You open your mouth to speak and, before the sound escapes your windpipe, she’s enveloping you in comfort, throwing her arms around you in an attempt to rid your face of that glum countenance.
Quickly, you clamber to cling onto her too, eyes wide as they flicker around the room from over her shoulder.
But… this feels stiff – claustrophobic. Too hot, too constrictive.
Like a giant wall enclosing you, moving in closer and closer. All she's doing is making an empty room smaller.
And maybe it’s just a bad reaction because you've had a bad day, but tears are pooling in your eyes rapidly as that dull ache that accompanies your perpetual loneliness suddenly grows louder and louder.
Constantly in the back of your mind, since your family turned their backs on you, with a friend group so small that you can still barely hold onto, with Dina so close but never close enough to trust completely, and the day the love of your life left you alone.
Just can’t ignore the feeling that there’s something so intrinsically different and disagreeable about you that you’ll never beat that isolation.
Endless love to give without an outlet.
You squeeze your eyes shut over tears you refuse to cry anymore.
You never intended for this thing with Alexis to get too far. You know nothing’s going to come of it. That’s just the way it’s been since Ellie.
Ellie’s foot’s got groove, tapping against the spongy grass surrounding the park bench with a ferocity transcendent to that of Ellie’s body.
She hasn’t been to this park in a while. Almost two years, to be exact.
Fuck, she thinks she might vomit.
She can’t stop whipping her head around the place erratically, trying to evaluate the people strolling aimlessly along the path. She thinks she must look suspicious as fuck. She’s probably drawing even more attention to herself, craning her neck like that. That thought stills her.
With her hood up and the drawstrings keeping the thick fabric taut to her freckled skin, she’s desperately trying to avoid recognition. She doesn’t think she can handle conversation with a friend, let alone a jittery fan. Also, she isn’t often vain, but she’d rather not be caught looking like shit.
Especially not after all the things people said about her online during her recuperation at rehab.
“Boo.”
Ellie yelps indignantly, lunging her body away from the source of the mutter behind her. When she turns around, she’s face to face with Dina’s head thrown back into a laugh, something she hasn’t come face to face with in an ashamedly long time.
To be frank, Ellie was not prepared for anything short of quiet resentment and awkward stretches of silence between the two of them, as was Dina.
However, Dina doesn’t think she can handle that. In fact, she doesn’t think either of them can handle that.
She doesn’t think she can handle hearing Ellie’s hushed voice and seeing that coy smile after so long of being worried sick about her, while keeping the well-guarded distance they’ve built over the past months.
Ellie has suffered a lot, Dina knows that too well. And she’s going to suffer more, going to get enough of that dreaded brooding silence from others (you). So, Dina decides to lighten the weight.
Ellie huffs out a sigh, face shifting into a small hesitant smile as she gauges the strange unfolding of this whole situation, before looking away and muttering,
“What the fuck, D? You scared the shit outta me.”
Because she was ready for something different, yes, but if this is what she’s going to get, she’ll take as much of it as she can. God, she craves normalcy more than those drugs she had to go to rehab for.
But then Dina takes a seat beside her, and the wind is knocked out of Ellie, suddenly so close to everything she left behind, amalgamated in the form of the woman who was, at some point in time, one of her best friends. She takes in a sharp breath of air, looks down at her hands, and feels awful.
“I… I’m sorry for… you know, showing up out of nowhere, but I-“
She takes a deep breath and looks up, cleverly utilizing gravity to discreetly send tears back down. While she takes a moment to gather her words, she appreciates the thin, cotton whirls, curving into the azure sky, and blinks.
Ellie didn’t used to cry. She thought, for the longest time, that something was wrong with her. And something was. She's been through a lot. She drifted through life like a ghost, pushing it down and down, and further down. But a few months ago, it was like the dam burst, and now tears are ready to flow no matter when or where.
It’s getting slightly inconvenient.
“I couldn’t bring myself to text you… a- after so long. I jus-“
Dina holds a hand up, and shakes her head,
“You’re good,”
before a heavy silence blankets the park bench again.
Further up, a little kid runs across the field and trips over air and eats shit on the ground. Ellie presses her lips together. Dina presses her lips together. They both look away.
“How… How have you been?”
“…Good. Different, but good. A lot’s changed around here since you…”
Ellie winces, eyebrows knitting into grievance as the words land heavy on her mind. She knew it was coming, Dina has every right to feel what she feels but, holy shit, it still cuts through her like a blade. Ellie can’t bring herself to look at her as she stutters through another apology, her voice cracking through her scramble for the right words,
"Dina, I’m… I’m so sorry. I should never have just… left like that. I didn’t mean for it to-"
"Ellie," her voice is firm,
"you don’t have to explain yourself. What happened… yes, it hurt really fucking bad at the time, but you weren’t well... You’ve been through a lot... too much, and I’m sure you’re gonna have more than enough shit on your plate here too, but I forgave you a long time ago."
Ellie’s words catch in her throat. There is so much to say, and no way to say it, but the look on Dina’s face makes her feel comfortable just leaving it behind. It’s so difficult to muster the energy to speak, and there are no easy answers or simple explanations. They both know that.
"Anyway, enough about me. How’ve you been?"
“I… I’ve been doing a lot better – emotionally. Rehab was good. It… helped me a lot. But… I don’t know. Leaving LA was a given, it’s just… I don’t think I can face a lot of the people here. I want to try, I want to make things right, I wanna be better, but the people… they just… look at me like they hate me…
I don’t know if coming back here was the right thing to do…”
Dina stays quiet for a moment. Her heart is full, and her waterlines are flooding for the first time since she sat down.
“Fuck ‘em all. They don’t know a thing, Els. They don’t even know you.”
Her voice is small and her eyes are wide; she watches the ripple of movement through the trees lining the sidewalk at the other side of the park as wind rushes by them, before turning to Ellie with a small smile tugging at her lips and continuing, louder,
"You know, there’s a small party tonight at Julia’s place. You should come. I think it’d be good for you to get out for once, ya hobbit."
Ellie looks up at Dina from the absolutely captivating spot she’s been scratching and staring at on her jeans for the past few minutes, expression like a deer caught in headlights,
"I don’t know… There’ll be too many people there, and… you know."
Dina nods.
"I do. But it’ll be a small thing - just some friends, hanging out, talking. No pressure. You’re gonna have to face those people eventually. It’s a small town. But, who knows, you might even enjoy yourself."
Ellie tugs her bottom lip into her mouth, mulling over the suggestion.
There are a lot of reasons why she should turn in down, a lot of people she doesn’t want to run into, pushing her to retreat to her casket-like abode. And then there’s the nagging question she finds herself wanting to ask again. Will she be there? But she already knows the answer to that, and she wasn’t lying when she said she wants to make things right.
"Okay," Ellie rubs her neck, "I’ll see if I can make it."
She figures that’s a start.
Dina closes the door gently in her wake, her outward listlessness a screen concealing the frantic liveliness of her mind as she plays through her conversation with Ellie.
She hovers to the living room and tosses her cap onto the table, letting her loud hair breathe. She runs a tired hand through the loose knots intertwining its dark curls and leans against the back of the couch, where she finds you and Lexi embracing each other.
Or, Alexis is embracing you at least. Dina thinks the way you’re positioned on the couch sort of resembles an archaic painting, with her clinging onto your waist and you stretching away from her grasp. Anyway, Alexis is snoring softly, and you're lying awake, arms crossed behind your head, as you stare up at Dina, giving her a tight-lipped smile.
When Dina walked in, her head was bursting with morsels of things she needed to tell you immediately, but they fade to static in her mind with Lexi’s presence, especially after she stirs awake and rubs the sleep from her eyes.
Dina isn’t fond of Alexis, in case it wasn’t already obvious.
After an awkward exchange of reserved ‘hey’s, she movesto the kitchen to heat up some food in pensive silence, watching it rotate in the yellow, whirring glow of the microwave.
Eventually, the outsider takes her leave, and Dina flumps onto the couch beside your now sat-up form, holding two plates of food and handing you the one in her right.
“Here. Because I know for a fact your dumb ass has not eaten.”
You snicker as you scarf down a particularly large spoonful.
“Yeah, I was being held down, dude.”
She watches you in awe and bursts into laughter at the sight of you absolutely wolfing down your pasta.
“Damn, bitch.”
Once your plate is hammered down to a scattering of crumbs, the two of you ease into petty conversation. Dina tells you she’s going on a date soon, and it isn’t so petty anymore, as you sit up and lean in.
“So, you were serious about ending things with Jesse, huh?”
“I’m done with him. For good. I just… What we had was nice but it fucking felt like we were on autopilot at that point, ya know?”
You nod; she sips her beer as the conversation wanes. Then, you notice the stiffness of her expression – the wistful twitch of her lip. You know what that means.
“What?”
“What?”
“What is it? You look like you’re dying to tell me something, so go on. What is it?”
Dina sighs and looks away and your stomach sinks, because you also know what that means. Your suspicions are only confirmed when she tells you she met up with Ellie today.
“How is she?” you ask. Your chest hurts with how hard your heart thumps.
“She’s doing better, I really think she’s going to be okay…”
You nod. There’s nothing else you want from her. Being clear with yourself, your mind never quite left the last conversation, did it?
Fucking Ellie, coming back and taking over your mind so easily.
A sick part of you hopes she thinks of you even more than you think of her.
You don’t know it, but you’re right. Painfully so.
Dina’s conflicted. She hesitates, because she's not sure if you’ll react badly but she can’t help letting it slip past her lips.
“I really think you should give her-”
“What, Dina? Give her what?”
Your eyes are wide and trained on her.
She sighs. Never mind.
“Look, I invited her to Julia’s party tonight.”
And now your eyes are narrowed at her, harsh and interrogative.
“Well, she can’t stay hidden away forever! She’s gotta get out eventually, and you’re gonna have to face her again, whether you like it or not…
I know it’s hard to trust her after what she did to you, and I’m not asking you to… I’m just saying… I know that you know the state she was in when she left… But she’s not there anymore… She was our best friend at one point and, when I spoke to her today, I really felt like she was serious about what she said… I just think, for old times’ sake, maybe… just, as friends, acquaintances even… give it a chance…”
It's getting really hard to keep up the pretense of disinterest – keep pretending this doesn't go as deep as it does.
You still love Ellie. You would never deny that, even in spite of the bullshit idea that you’re over her. And you do want to see her happy, to see her smile, to see that smile again. So, if there is even a slight chance of putting things right and moving forward, you’re willing to be friends with her, with the person who broke your heart. Just friends.
“…Okay.”
Ellie shows up to the party on a wing and a prayer a little while after it gets dark out.
She’s still on the fence about whether or not she regrets it.
Julia’s moved since she last visited. Granted, it’s been a fuck of a long time, but she likes the new place. It’s charming, or whatever. Or maybe it’s just open-plan. Ellie feels like an old fart for thinking about the room being open-plan; Ellie feels like Joel.
Then she remembers that that feeling alone would have sent her into a spiral just a year ago.
Regardless, the place is glowing gold, with soft lights, and a rhythmic, drunken buzz of chatter among the cliques of people. A lot less than she'd expected. It’s also slightly reminiscent of the get-togethers Maria used to set up, drawing Ellie’s mind back to the fact that she needs to go over to Maria and Tommy’s soon.
She feels like an alien again, standing outside of it all, like the twang of a snapped guitar string during a melody.
Also, Dina was right: things are different. Very different.
In fact, with a quick scan of the room alone, Ellie can’t make out any familiar faces, save for a few, which she often sees looking at her distastefully throughout the course of the evening.
It makes her visibly retract into the table, hunching her back slightly, but she is used to the whispers.
She’s gotten a lot of them in her time.
And now she’s sure she regrets coming, because it isn’t even a little fun if you’re the only one who isn’t the least bit drunk.
She notices a buzz in the pocket of her jeans and pats the space for her phone, pulling it out to see that it’s yet another missed call from Max.
It leads her to a lookthrough of masses of texts left on delivered and blocks of unanswered calls from him in her phone history.
With a sigh, she returns it to its place in her pocket. She might as well block him at this point. He’s not gonna be hearing from her for a long time.
“Ellie!”
She flinches upright and doesn’t scour the scene for long before her eyes land on the tall Asian asshole that has seemingly appeared out of thin air beside her. She’s secretly a lot more relieved than she should be at the sight of a friend.
“I swear to God, both of you love to fuckin’ torture me.”
He guffaws while she waits for him to calm down, unimpressed.
“Wait, both of us? Who’s both of us?”
“Who d’ya think?”
“Oh, right. You finally spoke to Dina then, huh?”
Ellie nods, taking a sip of the drink sitting in her Styrofoam cup.
“I swear to God, you two are perfect for each other.”
He raises his eyebrows,
“Actually…”
“What? Again?”
That’s one thing that has remained a constant no matter how much time has passed.
“I give it, like, two weeks. You’ll be back together.”
Jesse takes a deep breath,
“I don’t know, man, I think we’re done for good this time. Already been two weeks… Why? Did she say anything?”
Ellie shakes her head and Jesse leans back against the table defeatedly before peering into her cup.
“Whatcha got there?”
That should probably rub her the wrong way, but it doesn’t.
“Water.”
They’ve drifted apart, and it’s blatant. Of course it would be. Ellie’s had a lot of time to think, a lot of time to prepare, and she’s expected this, but the conversation drifts back into that same easy flow like it used to all those months back, speckled with laughter, even some of Ellie’s own. She can’t help but feel slightly more hopeful, slightly more human.
He asks about Max and songwriting, having caught a glimpse of a text, and she considers it.
She hasn’t considered music in an almost saddening amount of time but her notebook is scrawled with half-finished poetry, so she knows it’s begging to be let out of her, and the thought elicits serenity in her. Making songs without intent to release. No purpose, no pressure. Just for herself and whoever she chooses to make privy.
She thinks she just might start.
An hour or so later, Ellie, having floated around the place, aimlessly entering conversations with Dina and Jesse, leans against a counter top beside a stumpy drink cooler.
She’s been mulling over the option of leaving for a while since Dina somehow disappeared on her trek to the restroom and Jesse took off early. She eyes the factions spotting the empty space across the floor. Somewhere near the dining table, Ellie catches sight of you, and she tenses up almost instantly.
You look good. You look beautiful. You always look beautiful, like the first time she saw you all those years ago, and she couldn’t get her eyes off you from up on the stage. No matter how warped things became towards the end, those memories will always be paradisaical.
The only difference, she considers, with a tight feeling in her chest, is the glaringly large new factor lingering around you, Alexis.
If Ellie and you were still together, if Joel was still here, if she hadn’t lost her mind, if she had gotten better sooner, or if she had never left at all, that would be her.
But it’s not.
It’s like a physical reminder, standing across the room, of the cruel consequence. Of everything she lost, what she left behind. A reminder that the two of you were never a given, that you weren’t just going to find your way back to each other, and that maybe it’s for the best, because Ellie hadn’t seen a smile so genuine on your face for the entire month leading up to her departure as the one you’re wearing now. It stirs something within her, and it makes her take a deep breath - decide to get a refill on her water.
With her head tilted down, brows knitted like a kicked dog, she walks over to the sink, before she crosses paths with a woman. She looks to be a few years younger than Ellie, a few inches smaller too, with frizzy hair like strands of hay, grinning at her.
"Excuse me," her voice quivers with hesitant excitement and Ellie dreads what’s yet to come.
"You're Ellie Williams, right? I’m such a big fan, I saw you perform in Radio City back in New York last year! You were, like, genuinely fucking amazing! Man, I can’t believe I’m actually seeing you in the flesh!"
Ellie tries to make her smile look less like nervous, eyes briefly meeting the woman's before darting away. Her capacity for fan interactions has significantly decreased since she came back from LA, which is not good since it was already pretty fucking awful. Especially now that her mood has flat lined. Her jaw tightens as she mutters curtly,
"Yeah, that's me.”
“Oh my god, okay, um, would you mind if we took a quick photo together?"
With a hardened expression, Ellie takes a sip from her cup before responding.
"Actually, I'm just here to chill. Not really up for photos."
She immediately feels a tinge of regret as she watches the woman’s shoulders slump and her eyes dim,
"Oh, right. Of course. Sorry to bother you."
As you meander through the course of people and furniture, Ellie doesn’t bother watching the woman retreat to her place among the others. She releases a shaky exhale, drumming her fingers against the rim of her cup, her gaze fixed on a distant point before you yank the stack drink cooler open beside her.
"Ever the charmer, I see."
Her lips part to respond, but you’re so near, and she wasn’t expecting you to even come close to approaching her, so she stumbles through her words like a dumbass, mentally punching herself in the face.
“Uh- Hey… Didn’t know you were coming…”
“Well, I’m here. In the flesh.”
Ellie blushes, her voice low,
“You heard all that?”
“Yep.”
“How bad was it?”
You chuckle,
“Yeah, pretty fucking bad, dude.”
She sighs, running a hand over her face,
“I swear I didn’t mean to be an asshole, it's just… I haven’t spoken to any fans in, like, three months, and I have lost all ability to.”
“Pfft, okay, Justin Bieber. You and your hoards of fangirls.”
Ellie chuckles lightly, the dimple in her cheek deepening as she huffs out a quiet,
“Shut up…
Look… I-uh… I’m sorry for showing up like that at your place, I didn’t know you were living there… and… and, I’m sorry for how the conversation went, I just- had a lot to say, and it came out weird, and I understand if you don’t wanna see me anymore. I understand if you want me to keep my distance… If that’s what you want, I’ll do it, but what I said, I meant it… And I know it isn't really not possible to go back to how things were, but if you’re willing to give me a chance, I really would like to make things right.”
“Ellie… I’m gonna be honest with you. When you left, it was… “
You take a deep breath, shaking your head,
“I felt like my life was over. And then I kept hearing about overdoses and rehab and-
I don’t know…
I’m not gonna pretend I stopped caring about you. I never stopped… but… I don’t know… I just… I don’t fucking know if anything can go back to the way it was…
I used to feel like I’d never be able to forgive you.”
When you look back at Ellie, she takes in a sharp breath of air and her expression shifts as she looks away from you with glassy eyes.
“But… I’d like to try.”
She releases the air slowly, nodding her head as the tears pool, swiped away by steadfast hands before they cascade down her freckled cheeks. It reminds you wipe away your own.
“We have to take it slow, just try to be friends again, okay?”
She’s nodding,
“Yeah, okay…”
For the first time in way too fucking long, you feel oddly liberated. It’s like a weight has been lifted off your soul, released in the form of a heavy sigh, deep and visceral.
When you lock eyes with Ellie, you feel overrun with the desire to hug her - beyond just a hug. It’s been too long.
Perhaps it’s the nostalgia laced through the air in the moment, all the memories of late nights at the bar under dim lights, with the world shrunk to just big enough for the two of you and your honest laughter and the song changing to something you remember, and you watch a few couples start swaying in their drunken leisure.
"Hey," you look over and speak softly, your voice almost drowned out by the music.
"Hey,"
"I used to love this song."
Ellie nods, her gaze flickering towards the center of the room, where a few couples had started swaying to the slow beat and an ember of recognition glows in her dilated pupils before she chuckles softly.
"Yeah, I remember."
"Wanna dance?"
You blindside her completely, but she only lets the shock stunt her into hesitation for a brief moment before nodding,
"Yeah… I’d like that."
But, like clockwork, Alexis jogs over, weaving through people with a drunken flush across her cheeks, eyes lighting up when she spots you. You know it shouldn't disappoint you, but it does, because you can already feel Ellie tensing beside you and it takes everything in you not to groan.
"Hey, there you are!"
Her arm finds its way around your waist but the touch feels more suffocating than anything. Again.
"I've been looking for you everywhere, babe," her eyes dart between you and Ellie.
"Oh, hey, Ellie," Alexis adds,
"It's good to see you."
Ellie forces a gulp down her constricted throat with a stiffened posture. Her fingers curl into her palm before she takes hold of her left ring and pinkie in her right hand, squeezing them gently to feel something.
The easy smile she’d been wearing moments ago discreetly faded, deforming into something more guarded, uncertain, and when she speaks, her voice is quieter now. You think it's almost too quiet.
"Yeah. You too."
There's a strained silence, and it makes the air thick, too thick to breathe in comfortably, as the three of you stand awkwardly, the music a distant thrum in the background. You can feel Ellie retreating into herself. An old, familiar insecurity is creeping back into her eyes.
Clueless, Alexis leans into you,
"Wanna dance, babe?"
What if you said no? You would really, really love to say no. You already asked Ellie, after all. You look over at her.
But, before you can respond, her voice cuts in, soft but laced with something you placed a long time ago. Her smile was tight and forced.
"I’m good. You two have fun. I was planning on leaving soon anyway.”
And even through the polite wording, you can feel a pin-prick edge, a subtle distance that hadn’t been there previously. Her eyes land on you for a split second and then back at Alexis, but it was hard to miss the look in them.
"Really? Why? You should stick around for a bit longer."
“No, really, I’d rather not. I don't wanna impose.”
You clench your jaw, placed on the outskirts of the conversation again. Deja vu washes over you as you think back to the abrupt cut-off of the last one.
She turns to you,
"I'll see you soon?"
You nod.
You aren’t blind. You've lived with Ellie, spent every waking moment with her for years and years worth of time; you can tell when she's jealous.
But she knows she doesn't have the right to feel hurt..
What really plagues you is the fact that it shouldn’t make you feel this way.
When she leaves, you say nothing.
Ellie drags her feet up the wooden staircase leading to the veranda, mind clouded with thoughts, good and bad, with nothing but the shrill cry cicadas and of the oak beneath the weight of her shoes to punctuate the night.
When she reaches the top step, a familiar shepherd dog leaps at her torso, barking enthusiastically with his tail wagging and his tongue out. It knocks the wind out of her, and she grabs onto the rail.
“Woah. Hey, Buddy!”
She chuckles down at him.
The name just stuck. And, she supposes that, since she named him, she’s stuck with him for good too. It’s not like anyone will be looking for him anyway; he’s a stray she’s been feeding since she got back, with matted fur speckled in dirt and a slightly more skeletal structure than most. Ellie doesn’t like to acknowledge fact that he sometimes reminds her of herself.
When he barks up at her, she scratches him behind the ear and watches him contort into her touch like it’s crack or something.
And then, he somehow manages to get inside when she opens the door, paws smacking against the laminate floors as he scuttles across them. Ellie appreciates company a lot more these days.
She collapses onto that fucking king-sized bed as soon as she reaches it and runs a hand through her scruffy auburn hair.
Her fingers run through a lot longer than they used to. She needs a haircut.
You used to cut her hair for her. She’d sit in her underwear, shivering on a stool in the bathroom with a towel over shoulders that she’d hold tight like a cap, and you’d laugh at her as you sifted through her locks for ones that looked too long, blowing the cuttings from her bangs off the bridge of her freckled nose,
The last time she was due for a cut, she did it herself. Craned her neck over a bin and swiped the cut hair off her shoulders before looking at the choppy shit-show sitting on her head in the mirror.
Maybe she’ll just go to a hairdresser this time around.
She sighs and looks around the room. This was the only one in the house still full of things, because you’d left all of her possessions neatly arranged around it. Leaned against the foot of the bed is a painting she’d started a little after Joel passed, unfinished. A thin layer of dust sits upon the cotton and acrylic surface of the canvas, blurring the image of your face.
There are a few of that sort scattered around the room. Ellie turns onto her side and lets the tears run quietly. No pounding heart or hyperventilating. Just crying.
It’s bittersweet but, after tonight, she feels a flicker of hope, a dangerous thing for someone with her past.
She’s grateful for the door you opened to her, grateful for anything you give her at all, because she’ll take it gladly, and make things right, piece by piece, slowly, regardless of how long it takes.
It’s the only way she can keep going, because she’s tired of the way things have been. She’s tired of running.
At this point, you’re about ten minutes away from Julia’s place. You left, still not uttering a word. You left, without telling Alexis, and trailed down the sidewalk, paved with streetlights ushering you on, with a hazy mind but a set goal.
When your journey ends, you’re at the pebble beach that you and Ellie used to come to together.
Because you want to remember what it felt like.
Because you want to feel Ellie.
Smooth stones roll off each other as you walk to the shore, causing a series of mini avalanches with each step you take.
You stand before the shoreline, watching the foam blockade rush up to your feet and then back again. Down the center of the water, there’s a ribbon of moonlight, luminescent ripples glinting in the water, a thousand diamonds.
You sigh, and pull out your phone, tapping Alexis’ number.
It’s probably time.
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