Heart Strings|GirlxGirl

Haunted By Ghosts

The band practice space was quieter than usual when we returned from lunch. Mino had headed straight to the couch, already half-asleep, while Rika was strumming her acoustic guitar in the corner, lost in her own world. Lia was adjusting her drums, her movements deliberate but distracted.

I sat on the edge of the stage, running my fingers over the strings of my guitar without really playing. My mind was elsewhere, spiraling back to Freye.

Her words from the call played on a loop: "I just needed to hear your voice." The way she said it, so soft and raw, had lodged itself in my chest. I exhaled sharply, trying to shake the feeling.

"What's up with you?" Lia's voice broke through my thoughts.

I looked up to find her leaning against her drum set, arms crossed, studying me. Her green eyes were sharp but not unkind.

"Nothing," I lied, plucking a lazy note on my guitar.

"Uh-huh," she said, clearly not convinced. "Is it Freye?"

I froze for half a second, then shrugged. "Why would you think that?"

Lia smirked knowingly. "Because I've known you forever, and I saw the way you were during lunch. You're in your head, Axe. That's usually a Freye thing."

I scowled, setting the guitar down. "It's not like that."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Then what is it like?"

I opened my mouth, ready to deny it again, but the words caught in my throat. What was it like? Freye and I weren't... anything, not officially. But the way I felt when I was around her-or even when I wasn't-said otherwise.

"I don't know," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. "It's complicated."

Lia nodded, her expression softening. "It's Freye. Of course, it's complicated."

---

The rest of the afternoon dragged. We worked on a few tracks, but my focus was fractured. Even Mino noticed, throwing a crumpled napkin at my head during one break and muttering, "Get your head in the game, man."

By the time we wrapped up for the day, I felt like I'd run a marathon without moving. As we packed up, my phone buzzed again. I checked the screen, expecting another band-related text, but it wasn't.

It was Freye.

Freye: "You busy?"

My stomach flipped. I hesitated for a moment before typing back.

Me: "Just finished up at the studio. What's up?"

The reply came almost instantly.

Freye: "Come over?"

---

Her house was bathed in the golden hues of late afternoon when I arrived. The gate opened smoothly, and I parked my bike.

I didn't bother knocking. She'd left the door slightly ajar, as if she knew I'd come.

"Freye?" I called out, stepping inside.

"In the living room," her voice floated back.

She was curled up on the couch, a glass of wine in hand. She looked up when I entered, her expression unreadable but intense.

"Hey," I said softly, taking a seat across from her.

She studied me for a moment, then set the glass down. "Thanks for coming."

I shrugged, trying to keep it casual. "You sounded like you needed me."

Her lips curved into a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I did."

The silence that followed was heavy. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but I didn't want to push. Instead, I leaned back, waiting for her to speak.

"I've been thinking about this morning," she said finally, her voice low.

My heart skipped. "Yeah?"

Freye nodded, her gaze dropping to her hands. "And last night. And... everything."

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. "Freye, if this is about me staying over-"

"It's not just that," she interrupted, looking up. Her eyes were dark, full of emotion. "It's you, Axel. It's the way you make me feel, the way I don't know how to act around you half the time because you drive me insane."

Her confession hit me like a freight train. I opened my mouth to respond, but she wasn't finished.

"I don't know what this is," she continued, gesturing between us. "But it's messing with my head. And I hate not being in control."

I let out a shaky breath, leaning forward. "You think I'm in control?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She blinked at me, surprised.

"Freye, you're all I've thought about since I left this morning. Hell, since the first time we met. You think this is easy for me?"

Her lips parted slightly, but she didn't say anything.

I stood, crossing the small distance between us. I crouched down in front of her, taking her hands in mine.

"This thing between us," I said softly, "it scares the hell out of me. But I can't ignore it. And I don't think you can either."

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, I thought she might pull away. But then her fingers tightened around mine, and she leaned forward, resting her forehead against mine.

"I don't want to ignore it," she whispered.

The tension between us was electric, the air thick with unspoken words. I could feel her breath on my lips, and for a moment, everything else disappeared.

But I didn't close the gap. Not yet.

Instead, I whispered, "Tell me what you need, Freye."

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting mine. "I need you to stay."

And for the first time, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I could.

_______________________________________

But running away from my problems has always been a habit.