a perfect contradiction • lrh

chapter thirty-nine

The days went by in a blur. Same mundane routine like clockwork. Luke had upped his shifts at the record shop, opening it regularly and closing the shop every day of the week. Despite the wear and tear of working every second of the week, he thanked the busyness sometimes. It brought him a great distraction as Eleanor's presence was little to nothing as her hours at the studio increased.

There were times, many moments, some fleeting, some wholly powerful where he allowed his mind to linger on the past. Glittery, joyful memories of New Years Eve. His beautiful girl in his arms as they celebrated the start of a new year. Kisses filled and interrupted by promises of a better future.

He missed her closeness. But he had to do what was right by his girlfriend and respect the fact that she was making a name for herself. She was too talented to not get the recognition she deserved.

But it was taking a toll on him. When they were both home, they barely spoke, body to body contact was the only way they could communicate.

It was full and executed with a fraught and desperate tugging to be as close as humanly possible. As if it was the last thread holding them together. They danced in sync each night as moonlight flooded his bedroom. But yet as the sun rose, her side of the bed would be cold, again.

Even though she was the missing piece of his heart, he couldn't fight the feeling that something wasn't right. But contemplating that made him sick to his stomach. Denial was the better option.

As for the texts, they continued. Sporadic and unnerving, they ranged from detailed descriptions of events in motion, which had him scanning his environment for the stalker's eyes, or vague yet cold threats against himself and his love.

During the day, they plagued his mind, his fingers almost giving in to the trembling anxiety in his body. By night, his worry raged and tore him apart bit by bit.

Sweat trickled down his forehead as his lungs gasped for breath at least three times a week. Eleanor soothed him each and every time until sleep washed over her again yet Luke remained awake, his eyes unmoving from the ceiling. Guilt terrorizing him.

He wanted to reach out and tell her the truth. But in the first hours of light, she always looked so peaceful. He'd do anything to keep it that way even if he was clueless on how to promise that.

But as he tried his best to contain his anxiety, the void between himself and the world grew. His face thinned as paranoia invaded every space in his mind.

He watched as Eleanor became consumed with worry, her excitement for life draining bit by bit. She was exhausted from carrying his burden, his moods and vacant darkness. It swallowed him whole and leeched onto her and threatened to take her down with him.

It tore him apart as she clung to the pieces of him, of them, of what used to be.

She held onto him until she couldn't anymore.

It took until February the 1st for everything to break. The day where he received the text that forced him off of the ledge. The text that forced his words,

"I'm leaving you"

*
Thoughts?!
A short chapter for a change 😅
Thanks for reading ⭐