bloom. : a fireafy fic

Chapter Twelve

It was late at night when he arrived at the apartment. Firey didn't know what he had to expect upon opening the door.

He didn't expect to find Leafy in the middle of a mental breakdown when he returned home. The green haired girl was curled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Part of him wanted to rush to her side and ask what was wrong, but the other half wanted to walk around her and avoid her at all costs.

He did neither. Was he afraid?

A sickening feeling bloomed within him as he stood there, watching his girlfriend cry. When she looked up at him, his throat turned to steel.

"Did you leave the door open?" Leafy's voice was quivering to the point where he could barely make out her words.

Firey thought about it. "No," he replied. Then his memories slapped him in the face. "Wait- I forgot to lock the door this morning," he continued sheepishly.

Something seemed to break within Leafy. Suddenly, she was up and in his face, seething with rage and fear.

"You should have been more careful!" The firmness in her voice was terrifying. "Smokey got out, and when I tried to contact you, you didn't answer!"

The ginger looked around to confirm his suspicions; the damn cat sure was missing. He looked back down at Leafy, who was hunched over, continuously sobbing. He tried to pull her into a hug but she twisted out of his grasp.

"You don't understand," she sobbed. "Without him, I could die!"

Firey felt his soul shatter.

The person in the world he loved, the person he loved more than himself, his parents, and his friends wanted to die.

His imagination raced through a life without Leafy in it, meaningless and empty. It was as if he were a wandering life form, shapeless and lost, tied down to life's purpose by Leafy and Leafy alone.

"I heard something about you," she continued quietly, wiping her tears with her sleeve. "A rumor."

His heart dropped. She knew about him and Match. How was he going to explain himself? He didn't even remember what happened that night. He had no way of determining if he was innocent. He braced himself for her words.

"You assaulted Needle while you were dating her." Leafy appeared totally crestfallen. "I tried to ignore it because there was no way you could act like that, just no way. But is it true?"

Firey swallowed and trained his eyes on the wall to his left. He felt guilty.

"Is it true?" Leafy repeated, forcefully this time. He heard her sniffle and exhale, the congestion making it difficult for her to breathe properly.

The ginger bit his lip and looked back at his girlfriend. Even in the middle of tears she still looked perfect. He hoped this wasn't the end of their relationship. She was his everything. Even if he wasn't the best boyfriend, he knew he needed her. He didn't know how much he needed her until he didn't have her anymore.

And he didn't want to live through that again.

He didn't want to lie, either.

"Yes," he heard himself saying. It was as if his voice was merely an echo. "It's true. I can't even explain myself, I was blinded by rage."

Leafy stepped back from Firey, a horrified look on her face.

"When are you going to do the same to me?" Her voice was weak, fearful. She looked like a mouse, caught in the talons of a large, hungry falcon, unable to escape.

He was the falcon.

"Never," he breathed.

She looked like she didn't believe him. Firey looked at the floor, guilt flooding every fiber of his being. How did she hear about this rumor? He swore he would never hurt her again. He swore he would never hurt her like he hurt Needle, and he was already on the path to failing.

"First Smokey, now this." He just now realized how tired Leafy looked. How beaten down she looked.

"We'll find him," he told her in an attempt to reassure her.

Tears welled up in her eyes again. She said nothing, but glanced towards the couch.

Firey didn't need to hear her say it. He was sleeping on the couch again. He looked back at Leafy, who was already in the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Even within the confines of their bedroom, he could still hear her crying. He swallowed the knot that formed in his throat, pulled himself together, and retreated into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He flipped the light switch and bathed in the bright moon's reflection of the sun. He unbuttoned his work shirt and shuffled it off his body. He unzipped his trousers, and clad in only his boxers, sat on the couch and stared at the bedroom door.

The apartment somehow seemed so much smaller, somehow more dead. He laid down on his back and looked up at the ceiling.

After a few minutes, he couldn't take it anymore. He was craving human touch. He was even lonelier than before. She needed him, and she didn't seem to know how to ask for help.

He slowly got up and headed towards the bedroom. The door was alluring, yet terrifying. It was as if what he was about to do would seal the fate of their relationship.

He tried the doorknob, and the door slowly creaked open. The moonlight within the living room trickled into the bedroom. Leafy, who had been balled up and facing the wall, turned and looked up at him.

The eye contact was electrifying.

He slowly walked over to the bed, pulled up the covers, and slipped his body under them. He pulled Leafy close and buried his face into her neck. After a few agonizing moments, she wrapped his arms around him.

They could fix this. They could heal.