|Sparks Fly| A Hawk/Sam Fanfiction

Chapter 122: Ink & Insights

*Sam's P.O.V*

I sit here, pen in hand, the silence around me is deafening. The paper is my confidant, the only thing I can trust with the storm of emotions brewing inside me.

As I write, the words seem inadequate to capture the chaos of my heart. I keep replaying my talk with Eli, the way his eyes didn't meet mine, the finality in his voice.

It's like a melody I can't unhear, a song of lost love that keeps playing on repeat.

I looked down at the piece of paper where I'm writing down my feelings. I'm letting it all out because I can't keep it all bottled up.

I figured that writing would help.

I know I hurt him, and the guilt is a relentless shadow that follows me. He said he doesn't love me anymore, and each word felt like a dagger. But I can't accept it; my heart refuses to let go.

I love him, I love him despite the mess, the mistakes, and the pain I've caused. It's a truth that I can't hide, even from myself.

I'm sorry. It's such a simple phrase, yet it feels like the hardest thing I've ever had to say. Sorry for the betrayal, for the trust I shattered. I cheated, and that's a burden I'll carry, but it's not the sum of who I am.

I want to make it up to Eli, to show him the depth of my remorse. I'm willing to do anything, change everything if that's what it takes.

I need his forgiveness like I need air to breathe, and I dream of the day he might look at me again with love in his eyes.

I'll fight for that second chance, even if it's the last thing I do. Because sometimes love isn't just about the joy and the highs; it's also about the struggles and the determination to mend what's broken.

I'll wait for him, and in the meantime, I'll become someone worthy of the love I so desperately want to reclaim.

I sighed when I look at my words.

The words even sound heartbroken and it leaves my heart in half. I can feel it breaking and there's nothing I could do to repair it. It could be repaired once I make things right with Eli.

But that seems impossible right now.

Which makes this situation much harder.

I put the pencil down, looking at the paper once more and I can't really write anymore. Each word is leaving a stinging pain in my body and I can't take it without thinking that a bee is possibly by me.

Writing is definitely not making me feel better. It just seems to heightened my sad emotions and I just want to be able to be happy. But I want to be happy with Eli.

I really need to get out of this house for awhile. I need to clear my head, get some fresh air.

So without thinking, I got up from where I was sitting and I headed out of the front door.

The chill of the evening air bites at my skin as I make my way to the car, a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest.

I slide into the driver's seat, the leather cool against my legs. The ignition clicks, and the engine purrs to life, a soft rumble in the quiet of the night.

I pull away from the curb, the streets empty and bathed in the pale wash of streetlights. My hands are steady on the wheel, but my mind is far from calm.

I'm driving aimlessly, trying to outrun the heartbreak that's been my shadow since my talk with Eli.

As the houses and trees slip by in a monochrome blur, memories of him flood in uninvited. His laugh, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the feel of his hand in mine – each thought is a fresh wound.