𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 ( 𝑬𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑻𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒐)

𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏

When he wakes hope creeps inside of his mind, has he overslept the time his taxi would arrive?

With a glance on the digital numbers on the tv he sighs, he had only been asleep for a few minutes not even a full hour.

Willow's lips are slightly parted and her warm breath  fans over his chest, leaving a trail of warmth.
Her eyes, behind her closed eyelids, move around indicating that she is dreaming.
Ethan hopes she's having a beautiful one, not a nightmare.

His phones goes off, vibrating on the couch next to him and he is quick to decline Vic's call, not daring to speak in fear of waking Willow.

Instead he types out a message, somehow communicating  in Italian doesn't come as natural anymore after being with Willow for a week.

Vic quickly replies, telling him to not miss the taxi, otherwise she'll personally drag him back since management is going crazy.

He knows she doesn't mean it that way but he feels a little anger rush through him, no one should threaten his peace with Willow.

Shaking his head a little to clear his mind he feels embarrassed, blaming his feelings on Vic's message is silly and childish.

It was his decision to just up and leave and none of his friends had anything to do with it.

Sending back a row of smileys he wants to lock his phone again but pauses. He is tempted to just snap a picture of Willow right there, peacefully sleeping in his arms.

Before his fingers can develop a mind of their own, he quickly places his phone down again.

What was he thinking? He knows the risks of taking this picture!

His body feels filled with lead when he eventually decides that he needs to get up now.
Every movement feels impossibly heavy.

She doesn't wake when he carefully lifts her body off of his own and places her down on the couch.
Getting a blanket from the woven basket he hesitates before draping it over her. He already misses her weight on him, her smell already seems to vanish  and he'd do anything to just curl his body up next to her and sleep for an eternity.

Finally he manages to tear his eyes away from Willow and quietly sneaks to Ada's bedroom, collecting his belongings.

In search of a piece of paper and a pen, he finds the sketch Willow had made of the two of them.

Oh fuck it.
Ethan thinks before carefully placing it on top of his bag.
He can't take a picture and he can't take the canvas but he can take the sketch with him and keep it hidden until he is home.
Of course he trusts his mind to not forget about Willow but it can't hurt to have a small, visual reminder to fresh up his memories.

His mind is blank, not a single word comes up when he finally finds a pen and a notebook.

How do you tell someone you just ran because your heart can't possibly take a goodbye?
Admitting that he'd rather have her hurt than break his own heart by having to look into her eyes when he tells her he can't keep in touch.

He tries to convince himself it's for the best, leaving without a way for her to contact him. Not letting himself scribble down his phone number or home address.

A coward that's what you are!

It's true. There is no way to deny the fact that he in fact is a huge coward.
But he needs to hurry. He wills his mind to make up words and his hand to write.

Willow,
thank you for becoming my hideaway and offering me a shelter when life was rough.
I will never be able to show you how grateful I am for the past week and I apologise for the way it has to end.
Consider this a goodbye, not a see you later.
What we had was too pure to be ruined by the world outside.
I am scared they'll dim your sunshine, I could never forgive myself for it!
Putting you in danger scares me more than anything ever did before, so I hope you understand why I had to run.
You'll forever hold a spot in my heart Willow, I don't think I'll ever be able to forget you and I hope you won't forget about me.

I already miss you!

Love Ethan.
PS: Thank Ada for letting me stay in her room.

If he'd take the time to read the letter again he would have ripped it into pieces. Knowing that,he places it on the kitchen table and takes a minute to run his fingers through Pips fur.

The small cat had jumped up on his lap and eagerly awaits cuddles, rubbing her head on his hand and purring loudly.

"You are trying to make me stay huh?", he smiles sadly and looks for an answer in her bright eyes.

Time is ticking and he has to hurry to catch his taxi so he lifts Pip from his lap and hands her a few treats from the sage green box on top of the shelf.

Putting on his shoes by the door he has to close his eyes and catch his breath. Only when he is already half out the door he lets himself look back.

Willow is still asleep, part of him wants her to wake up and see him, take one last look at him before he is gone from her life.

Hope you saved a mental picture of me, just like I did with you.

It's not fair for him to get to soak up her presence when she can't.

"Goodbye Willow", his whispers travel through the room and like a second blanket they wrap around Willows body.
She moves  in her sleep and he pulls himself through the door, letting it shut with a small click.

That's it now.

He replays the memories of the past week in his mind while he walks to the taxi, ignores the drivers attempt at making smalltalk and let's himself slump in the backseat.

The train ride from Brighton to London is short, without bothering to put on his headphones he blankly stares out the window, watching the landscape fly by and with every passing mile he moves further away from Willow.

London is buzzing with energy and Ethan feels even more drained than he did before, it is only 7 a.m but the commuters have to hurry to get to work.

Evil stares are being thrown at him when he stands still for too long to check his maps app for the hotel the others are staying in.

He dreads to see them again as much as he wishes to hug them and let them tell him, that everything was going to be okay.

Buying fresh croissants and coffee for his friends as part of his apology reminds him of Willow.
The small cat that ran across the busy street, cleverly avoiding the rushing cars, reminds him of Pip.

He keeps his head down, trying not to stare at every young woman with long blonde hair.
If he didn't know better he'd say that he is experiencing symptoms of withdrawal.

Usually his friends aren't awake at that time in the morning but today they are all perched on one bed when he walks in.

Shock and confusion is written on their faces and when Ethan opens his mouth to ask them what the hell is going on, Thomas just hands him his phone.

If Damiano didn't catch the paper tray Ethan used to carry the coffees there would have been a mess on the beige carpet.

Curses in both English and Italian leave his mouth and Ethan quickly hands the phone back, slumping down on the bed opposite to the one his friends were previously sat on.

He had messed up big time.