oneshots + short stories b.e

unresolved

clio

i walk into my house, sighing and dropping my backpack. i hear voices talking softly, and i roll my eyes, assuming my parents have company. i'm about to head upstairs to avoid the awkward hellos and unavoidably, questions about how it went, when i hear a familiar voice call my name from the living room. "clio?"

       i walk into the living room, and sure enough, there sits billie, in all her blue haired glory. "come sit with me." she says, and i obey, sliding into the loveseat next to her. i feel her eyes drop to the large bruise on my right arm, but she doesn't ask, and for that i internally thank her. "i like the teal." i say, and watch a half smile peek through her stare. "i like the blonde." she says, running a hand through my hair. "you look like you" she says, and now it's my turn to smile. "i decided there were better ways to rebel than brown box dye" i say, and she knows knowingly. "i didn't like dark brown on you" she says, and i laugh quietly. "you never saw it." i say, immediately making the distance between us feel that much bigger. she draws in a sharp breath. "you sent me pictures" she says in a forced manner, almost as if she's desperate to conjour up some memory, some reality between us that never existed.

      "it's okay." i decide to speak. "you're here now." i say, and it comes out almost as a question. "are you-" i begin to ask, but she interrupts me. "i'm here now." and this time, it's a statement. solid and final. i rest my head on her shoulder and i feel her start to trace shapes on my back with her fingertips. a chill goes through my spine, and i shiver slightly. "cold?" she says, almost teasingly and i feel a blush rise to my cheeks. "patrick is in the library with your parents. did you change your room?"

       i laugh, pulling her hand up the stairs as she follows closely behind, suddenly pausing to point at one of the many pictures on the wall of the staircase. "oh my god, we were so small" she says, and i look closer. the picture is of me asleep, head in her lap and her reading a storybook to me. "damn, when do you think this was?" i ask and she thinks for a moment before responding. "i'd guess we were seven." and i nod, grabbing her hand once more to continue to my room.  "someone's excited" she says, something i can't quite detect other than playfulness in her voice.

she walks through my room slowly, taking it in. i sit on my bed and turn on my tv, waiting for her to come sit with me. "who's this girl?" she asks, holding a polaroid out to me. "oh, that's just wren" "you and wren look comfy." she says and i roll my eyes, ready to explain when she speaks again. "henry whitford?" she says, a laugh teasing her voice, as she holds a different picture. "oh my god bil, it was like seventh grade! and he's hot now!" i say loudly, and hear her laugh quietly. "yeah, but i'm way hotter"

     i roll my eyes at her, as she picks up a frame off my dresser. "oh my god, this is fucking adorable." she mumbles. i smile at the memory. "we're tiny."

the night flies by in nostalgia and sexual tension from years back that i thought had gone away. i don't miss her comments, her glances, or smirks. i don't miss when she flirts with me, or bites her lip. internally, i feel like i can't possibly make a right decision. if i say fuck it, and kiss her, she's gonna leave. she'll probably even say she doesn't feel the same, that i misread it, she's just a flirty person, and i'll never be anything more than a walking piece of childhood nostalgia to her.

if i hold back, i'm gonna spend years mulling it over and regretting it the way i did the first time around when we left things unresolved. and i know, somewhere deep inside me, that i'll spend many late nights curled up alone in bed wishing with every bit of me i had just done it, just told her. at least if she didn't like me, it would be resolved.

and then billie turns off the office, and whispers to me, and somehow i end up sitting i her lap, and she's looking at me like i am the only thing that exists, like i'm her favorite song.
she rests her head on my shoulder for a few minutes, before lifting her head up to look at me.

"i wrote a song for you." she mumbles, and i look at her, confused. "you remember that night, um, in central park?" she asks and the memories flood my mind. she sat in my arms for hours, silently crying into the night air. i tried to cheer her up, tried to tell her something i thought she wanted to hear, so i kissed her and i told her i loved her. and she kissed me back, but the next day, she got on a flight and didn't look back at me, or la. she texted me some, but the texts were few and far between and stopped after a few weeks. unresolved, and it broke my heart. badly.

"it wasn't my fault. management, i didn't want to go, but management threatened to blacklist me in the music industry if i didn't go. and i couldn't bring you, because they thought you were a distraction, and i begged so much, but they didn't ease up, and i didn't text you because i wanted you to move on, and hate me, because i didn't know when they'd let me go home, and i didn't want to hurt you. "

i had never heard a word of this, and it made my head spin. she didn't want to leave me, didn't mean to hurt me, wanted to stay with me. "god clio," she says, tears escaping her eyes, "i wanted to stay here, and love you, and be yours. that's all i fucking wanted, but i couldn't. and i knew i couldn't, and that's why i didn't say it back, that's why i was crying i- i've loved you since we were fourteen-"

"can i hear the song?" i ask, and she nods, starting to sing it.

it's not true
tell me i've been lied to
crying ' isn't like you
what the hell did i do?
never been the type to
let someone see right through
maybe won't you take it back?
say you were tryna make me laugh
and nothing has to change today
you didn't mean to say, i love you
i love you and I don't want to

up all night on another red eye
i wish we never learned to fly
maybe we should just try
to tell ourselves a good lie
i didn't mean to make you cry
maybe won't you take it back?
say you were tryna make me laugh
and nothing has to change today
you didn't mean to say, i love you
i love you and I don't want to
the smile that you gave me
even when you felt like dying
we fall apart as it gets dark
in in your arms in Central Park
there's nothin' you could do or say
i can't escape the way i love you
i don't want to, but i love you

by the end of it, we're both in tears, and i realize suddenly how worth it this is. how every ounce of heartbeat i've felt the last year is worth this feeling, and without thinking, i cup her face in my hands and kiss her lips gently, feeling her hands slide down to my waist.  and it's the scariest, most reckless thing i've ever done, but i've never felt safer than i do right then, as she holds me like i'm gold, like i'm fragile and invaluable.

a few minutes later, she pulls away to wipe her eyes. "i won't leave you again." she says, and i can tell she means it.

"i know.