nineteen | nothing more, nothing less

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για πάντα δεν είναι αρκετό

[ forever isn't enough ]

☆ ☆ ☆

Over the course of the last days, things in Skopelos slowly turned into what they used to be -- Cordelia had continued to scrabble around the hotel with her daughters, Adamos had returned to watching his evening Korean dramas, and Penelope began her life again as if Avery had never been there in the first place.

She had continued her daily routine, she had still visited Kastani beach and rowed the boat to the cave that she took Avery once -- her visits to the small coffee shop in the ends of Skopelos town, though, slowly diminished as her poetry seemed to leave her.

Not a single comprehended word could be written into the pages of her once mysterious floral journal. The dates on the top of the dusted pages slowly faded through the days, Penelope couldn't write. Not when her inspiration left her drowned in mischievous sorrows. Penelope had used her time off and granted volunteering visits to Cordelia's hotel, she began by placing the beds and decorating them all the same with snow-white sheets and vibrant blue pillows. Then she began taking over her evening at the market, buying small sweets and Greek delicacies and placing them on the large pockets of her skirt as she brought them back to the hotel, individually placing them in each of the rooms as a token for visitors.

The amount of tourism in the small populated island seemed to reek in disappearance as the leaving of Avery gossiped between the crooked trees of the island, over the cliffy hills and the constant twinkling water under the sunlight. And it drove Penelope completely crazy.

"Hey Penelope, it's me Avery. Again. How are you? I haven't heard from you in a while -- are you okay, or hurt or anything? Please respond I really need to know how you are--"

The seventieth voicemail Avery had left since Penelope never arrived to wish him goodbye at the airport. She had taken her time and heard them over and over again, on repeat; taking her time to listen to his melodic voice through the speaker, his tone dropping in different levels of desperation.

Penelope was sitting on the edge of her canopy bed, sighing as she ran her fingers over the thin photograph, her lips parting as her fingertip came in contact with his printed face. The photograph was worn and distressed due to its constant coverage from her back pocket, with her constant moving of walking around and running from place to place the image on the polaroid was slightly dazed and almost invisible to the naked eye. But, to Penelope, they were perfectly shaped, elegantly torn and in every way, within and without, simultaneously, beautiful and not because she was in the photograph -- but, because Avery was on it.

"Hello? Penelope, if you don't know this is Avery...listen I'm worried about you. A lot. Call me back or message me or simply tell somebody to tell me. I'm worried for you, Pen, Please Answer."

Another message, it was from the day prior, Penelope's conscience biting on her insides when she had let the phone ring endlessly, never answering his calls. She didn't know what to think -- he seemed so helpless and careful, but he said it himself and she heard it.

Penelope was a fling. Nothing more, nothing less.

But he seemed so...worried, could it be?

A soft tune came from the small record player from the corner of her room, the melody flowing with her swaying shoulders as the voices of ABBA hit her ears -- the sentimental lyrics nipping her mind. She had once wished when she was smaller to get more modern records, yet, Adamos denied. Though, in a emotional way, Penelope felt grateful -- there was nothing like hearing an old love song, it was like seeing an ancient reflection of yourself and seeing such a completely different person. Because somehow Penelope could somewhat relate to the heartbroken words that laced the symphony.

How could she be so heartbroken from a boy she only met for a couple of weeks? She couldn't be in love. It was too soon, or that's how she felt.

In a way, Penelope could see the near future and she didn't like it all -- she felt that all those great romances would pass by, all because the thought of Avery, made him rob all her rightful chances.

She softly threw herself down, her back falling onto the comforter-clad mattress, staring at the ceiling as she wished she were somewhere else; Penelope wasn't sure where, maybe somewhere in a cave in Skopelos, maybe someplace exotic like Brazil or somewhere less foregin like Italy or Spain.

"Penelope, I'm serious. Please answer the phone, if you're even hearing these voicemails, just...please. I care about you. Just please."

It was funny for Penelope, each one of the messages were some sort of reason, a reason they pushed her to chase after him like her life depended on it. But Penelope knew better, she wasn't some sort of stubborn and misconviennet child anymore, she was a naive girl who just wished to be loved by someone either then her father, it was all she asked for, nothing less and nothing more.

But out of all those clues, Penelope only wanted one, which came from Avery in person, face-to-face and heart-to-heart.

author's note

one more chapter... dun dun dun.
(it'll be longer than this one don't worry)

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