invisible string

bargaining (part four)

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write it on your heart by the bad bad hats 

▬▬▬▬▬▬ JEREMIAH ▬▬▬▬▬▬

I take the stairs three at a time and almost run straight out onto the street before I remember she needs water, and make a U-Turn for the bar. I sidle past some guys, but luckily they're too drunk to realise I'm queue jumping them. A bartender frees up and before someone else can grab their attention I do. I get two bottles of water and grab some straws from the bar. I'm in such a hurry to get to her I almost forget to scan my card.

Bels is sitting on the street head between her knees and a barely touched rum and coke by her side.

"Hey," I say, setting me and my water supply up beside her.

"Mmph." She groans in response.

I rub her back, before I can think about what I'm doing, and she leans into my touch.

"Is this your drink?" I hold up the glass beside her.

She groans what I assume is a yes, and I inspect it before I pour down the sewer drain beside us. I doubt she's been keeping an eye on it, and either way she doesn't need it right now. If she clears up, I'll just get her a new one. I twist open one of the water bottles and throw in a couple of the straws. I slowly manoeuvre her so she's leaning upright on me, and guide the straws to her mouth so she can drink. After a couple sips, she pushes the straws to the side and goes to take a gulp, and ends up with half the bottle down her front. She frowns.

"The straws were a good idea."

I laugh.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too." I wipe her face with the sleeve of my shirt as she tries to wring out her dress. When it becomes clear there's no point we collapse into each other laughing. When the noise subsides she wraps her arms around me and tucks her head into the crook of my neck and she says,

"I really missed you."

And it's like my chest seizes. I can't breathe. It's everything I want to hear and it's the last thing I want her to tell me. I want to tell her I missed her too. I want to tell her she has no right missing me, not when she's the one who left me. Not when at any time she could've picked up the phone and called and I would've answered. All she had to do was reach out, and I was right there waiting, but she didn't, she pulled away, and I don't understand how she could miss me when I was always just there, just waiting. For her.

She notices my silence, and pulls away, keeping her arms on my shoulder. She fixes me with a serious, sober look, even though she's still swaying a little, and her brows crease.

"What's wrong?"

Her makeup is smudged and her dress is wet and her hair is messy and she's so serious and she's so drunk, and she's so beautiful, all of my defences crumble.

"Why?" I ask.

"Why? Why do I miss you?" She's looking at me like I'm ridiculous and it stings that she doesn't know what I mean but I can't stop myself.

"Yeah. Why? I'm not the one who pulled away, Belly. You're my best friend, you were my best friend, and you left me. After- After the funeral, you didn't come to the reception. You didn't say a word to me. That whole year, you never called me once."

"You didn't call me either." She says, but she's looking at the ground and I know we're both thinking the same thing. So I say it.

"You weren't mine to call. You chose, that's your right, I don't blame you, okay? But you didn't call because you didn't want to. I left that up to. And you chose to ditch me."

"Jere, I'm sorry. Okay? I didn't think-"

"No, I know. You don't think about me. Belly, I get it."

"That's not fair."

"Did you?"

She doesn't speak. Her mouth hangs open and she stares at me. Somehow I'm standing up, and I'm trying to make myself leave, but I so badly want her to say something that I'm rooted to the spot, returning her gaze. She stands up too, though she still has to look up at me, and she takes a step toward me.

"I didn't think it was right." She says quietly. And I feel everything stop. I didn't think it was right. What does that mean? Why wouldn't it be? Unless. That word pounds around my head, clouding my thoughts. I didn't think it was right.

I step closer to her, and swallow hard, trying to think straight. We're just standing, but we're almost touching, and it feels like a gravitational pull I have to resist. I have to focus to keep my hands from drifting up, to meet hers, to tuck her hair behind her ears, to trace the line of her arm.

"That what was right?" I ask. She's looking at me and I'm looking at her and it's just us. It's like everything's gone quiet.

And then the noise floods back in.

"Hey," Conrad's sloping over, pulling out a cigarette as he does.

Belly looks away and I step back and nod to Conrad.

"Look, could we talk?" He's looking at Belly, asking her, and she's looking away, at the street, at the building. I want her to tell him no. I want her to look at me, and tell me what she meant. I want to take her hand and tell Conrad to get lost, tell him we're in the middle of something. But mostly I want Belly to look at me and acknowledge our conversation. To show me that she meant what she said. She looks at me, finally, and I can tell she won't.

"Don't worry about it," I smile, and clap Conrad on the shoulder, and I go.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ BELLY ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

I have no idea what I'm about to confess to Jeremiah. I don't think I've ever really even let myself think about it before. I've always known it, but in a way you only know things you never really acknowledge, and only realise you knew when you get it wrong. Its corners are forming and fading in my mind when I hear Conrad, and it disappears. I want him to turn around and go back inside, I want to stay in that moment, with Jeremiah moving towards me, with me letting him. I want to tell him. I look away because I can't bear looking at him and not knowing what to say. I hear Conrad say something, and I think he's talking to me. I stare at the tree across the road, at the broken plastic cup in the middle of the street, the paper garland hung up in a window. I don't look at Conrad. I don't look at Jeremiah. I realise this and I turn my eyes back to him, and when they meet I know it's over. He looks so disappointed. I realise that before this trip, I've never seen him look disappointed in me, and I realise that that's why he seems so different now. When he looks at me, I feel like I've let him down. And I have. He's right. It seems impossible, Jeremiah, the peacekeeper. I don't know how to fix it, and I don't know how to look at him with Conrad standing there. But he smiles, and leaves. I watch him go. 

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ok i knowww this is just more angst but they've had a real conversation now!!! and i'm onto the next part!! also i might come back and revise this because i kinda wrote it all at once in a blur and it just felt right so i hope it makes sense and you like it <33

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