Heart Strings|GirlxGirl

Shifting Ground

The tension in the room was suffocating, but I couldn't breathe any easier when she said it.

"I need you to stay."

Her voice was a soft plea, but all I could hear was the pressure building behind my ribs. I had heard that kind of need before-from people I couldn't stand, from people who were too much, from people who would only end up disappointing me. I had learned the hard way to keep my distance. To walk away before it could ever matter.

But with Freye, it wasn't that easy.

I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay more than anything. But there was a war inside of me, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I would lose it again, just like I always did.

I had a habit of running.

It wasn't a trait I was proud of, but it was the only way I knew how to handle things-big feelings, things I couldn't control, like the way she was looking at me now. Like I was the one thing in her world that could make her feel better.

The walls around me were coming down, but I couldn't let them. I couldn't let her in, because I knew how this would end. It always did. There would come a time when I couldn't give her what she needed. When I'd fall short and let her down, just like everyone else before her.

"I can't," I whispered, stepping back.

She blinked, confused, the words not processing at first. Her fingers lingered on my hands, but I pulled away.

"Axel..." Her voice was quiet but pleading. But I couldn't bear it. I couldn't hear it. Not now.

"I'm sorry," I said, turning away. "I just... I can't."

The silence that followed was deafening. I couldn't face her anymore, couldn't look at her eyes that made me feel like maybe I was worth staying for. I couldn't stay for the moment where I'd inevitably break her heart.

I walked out the door without another word, the weight of it crashing down on me the second I stepped outside. My chest ached. My legs felt heavy, like I was wading through something thick and suffocating.

I started the engine of my bike before I even realized I was outside, the roar of the motor almost calming me. But it wasn't enough to drown out the voice in my head telling me that I had just let something slip through my fingers.

---

It didn't take long for the emptiness to hit.

I didn't have to go far to feel it-when I pulled up to the house, the quiet of it swallowed me whole. Mino's bike was gone. Lia's drum set wasn't in the living room. Everyone was out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stood in the doorway for a while, staring at the blank space in front of me. My chest felt too tight to breathe, but I didn't know how to make it stop. How to make this feeling fade.

I wasn't good at this. Relationships, connections-whatever you wanted to call it, I wasn't good at it. I didn't know how to be what someone else needed without cracking under the pressure.

I walked past the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water, the coldness a sharp contrast to the heat pooling in my stomach. My phone buzzed on the counter, but I didn't even need to check the screen. I already knew who it was.

Freye.

I picked it up anyway, feeling the weight of it in my hand, but I didn't have the strength to read her message. Not yet.

I wanted to text her back, to apologize, to explain why I had to leave. But what would that even change? How could I fix something I wasn't even sure I knew how to control?

My fingers hovered over the screen, but then the phone slipped from my grasp, clattering to the counter.

I hadn't thought I could feel this lost.

---

Later that night, when the house was still and dark, I found myself sitting in the middle of the living room. The silence was thick, pressing in on me from all sides. I didn't even want to pick up my guitar. I didn't want to do anything but stare at the empty space around me.

It was stupid, really. I had always known that running was easier than facing the hard stuff. But that didn't make it any less painful. I hated myself for it.

And I hated how easy it was to slip back into the role I had carved out for myself-alone, apart from everything that could hurt me. Even if it meant hurting someone else in the process.

---

But then, the text buzzed again.

Freye: "Are you okay?"

The words stung. She was reaching out, and I was pulling away. She was doing everything right, and I was doing everything wrong.

I could have told her the truth. I could have told her that I wasn't okay. That I was scared, and I didn't know how to be anything other than broken.

Instead, I stared at the screen. The message lingered there, mocking me, waiting for a response I couldn't give.

It would be easier if I just shut it all out. If I left. If I ran. But for once, part of me wanted to stay. Wanted to let her in. To trust.

But I wasn't sure I could. And that scared me more than anything else.