Raising Isla | ENGLOT AU

Chapter 5: Dumb Misunderstandings

You have these rules for a reason, Em, she told herself. Dippin her hand back into the near desolate bowl of chips she'd been cramming into her tear-stained face for the last ten minutes. The reminder stinging, and only proving the thought that had been throwing a tantrum in her mind for the last few weeks; you should have ended it sooner.

But she hadn't wanted to. For the first time she really, really hadn't wanted to. But the consequences of her own emotional negligence were now painting her eyes red and her cheeks sodden, and causing a certain little calico to glare at her disapprovingly. Because now Emery was stuck.

It was an oppressively loud realisation that her heart wouldn't let her be rid of Calypso. But the days she'd spent arguing in her own head, and the further hours it had taken her to even build up the courage, had lead her to Calypso's front door, only to be greeted with silence.

Her apology left hanging on her tongue and heavy in her chest.

Perhaps it was better this way. Maybe if she moved on, then she could too.

You're such a blubbering mess, Em - words Meena had said, reprimand in her tone after she'd grown frustrated. And she'd been right.

Logic had been evading her, undisciplined emotions taking its place, but she'd pushed herself to try again the next day, to drag her feet back to Calypso's front door, hoping, praying - despite the fact she'd never been one for leaving her dreams to faith, that she'd simply been out.

Working the office late at night, perhaps drinking with her colleagues - any sort of rationale she could think of to dispel the nagging thought in her mind that Calypso, in all the time she'd known her, had never been the sort of person to do that.

She knew the conversation was going to hurt. The memory of a tattoo needle torturing her back for six hours seemed preferable but she hadn't anticipated how sharp the pain would be after the sound of her knuckles tapping against the wood of Calypso's front door was greeted with silence once again, as she stood and waited in the hallway. Alone.

She'd cursed herself then, realising how callous it had been to ignore Calypso that day. When she'd followed her retreat and called her name softly from the outside of her door. She had heard. And she'd ignored her, choosing to curl up with Twig and watching with a distant expression as raindrops fell down in streams against her bedroom window.

She'd been panicking. And even if she had been brave enough to open the door, Calypso would have been faced with a version of herself that could scarcely form a coherent reply, let alone explain her outlandish response to a declaration that should have had a simple, easy answer.

And it did, of course it did, but it was that exact realisation that had sent fear pulsing through her veins. Because she did love her. Completely and overwhelmingly, why else would it be hurting so much?

Emery, mournfully, discovered her bowl of snacks was empty, and whatever movie she'd been letting play on her laptop had finished half an hour ago. So she forced herself out of bed, and into the kitchen.

And then Meena had barged through the door.

Why had she ever given her friend a key? The reasoning was lost miles away to her now.

"Ah, Em." Meena greeted, with a tone that was unfairly cheerful, as Emery felt the food bowl being stolen from her hands and thrown into the sink. "I do admire your dedication to the belief that any sized bag of chips can be a single portion if you try hard enough, but I really think it's about time you had a proper meal."

"I -" Emery stammered, frustrated. "What are you doing here?"

The taller woman folded her arms. "I was just in the middle of speaking to an alarmingly pale woman man upstairs, seeing as you both seem to have the emotional maturity of toddlers, I thought it best I try to do something myself."