Even Heroes Have Scars

[61] Stop the World

No P.O.V.

Once Ansley returned home and was settled into bed, it was already forty minutes after she hung up the call. Part of her was eager to call back, but the other part was terrified. Terrified of getting attached. Terrified of giving in. Terrified of falling back into love, even when the truth was she never fell out of it with this girl. This beautiful girl that was really a woman but could occasionally be childish.

The relationship started out as a friendship that revolved around her recovery. Even when they were dating, part of it still was. But she didn't want that. She wanted a relationship that was about loving each other, not solely about "Did you eat?" or "Let me see your wrists to see how you're doing." Yes, it was great that she cared, but if the relationship was only about that, then what was the point? She could go to a therapist for that. And she was never fond of therapists, anyway.

But maybe Demi was different. After all, it had been a more than a month since she'd seen or heard from her in person or on the phone. Maybe people really could change. Then again, maybe they couldn't. Maybe she couldn't. She'd made an unspoken promise to Demi, though. One she intended to keep. So she did, calling her via FaceTime.

Demi answered on the second ring, quickly wiping away any visible tears with her hand while the call connected. She forced a smile again, which turned into a real one when she  saw Ansley's face. They shared a moment together that was silent and blissful, a chance to just enjoy each other's presence for a minute. Just like that, minute over.

Finally, Ansley asked, "When did you dye your hair blue?" Demi's short hair indeed was dyed blue.

"Couple days ago," Demi recalled, glancing around the hotel room and twisting the tips of her hair around on her finger.

"You've been crying," Ansley pointed out as if It wasn't the most obvious thing in the world, like she was acknowledging an untied shoe lace or a leaf in someone's hair.

Demi quickly shook her head, looking away out of habit. "I haven't. I'm fine." Again, forcing a smile as she refused to make eye contact with Ansley, even if it was through a fucking phone.

"Demi," Ansley sighed, stressfully running her fingers through her hair. "Don't lie to me. I know you better than you think I do." Once again pointing out the obvious.

Gulping, Demi spoke to her like she did earlier with Marissa, loud and angrily. And she didn't care. At least, not at first. "If you know me better than I think, then why did you even ask if I needed something earlier? I've needed one thing since the day I left. You. Ansley, you know just as well as I do that I'm still in love with you." She took a few seconds to calm down, closing her eyes to breathe, as if it was possible. The moon had risen more in the sky, shining through her window again to illuminate her face. She cursed the moon. "If you know me so well, tell me why I called in the first place, because honestly..." she seemed breathless, nervously staring down at her lap , "I have no idea."

Ansley sighed, playing with a loose string on her sleep-shorts. "You know I can't answer that. Look, I know you never meant to hurt me. Marissa explained the entire thing. When I was mad, I said a lot of things I didn't mean. I don't hate you. Yeah, it'll take a while to get my trust back, but I have trust issues with everyone, not just you." She took a deep breath, finally making eye contact with Demi.

"I don't want you telling me that things are okay if they're not, alright? You aren't saying it just to make me feel better, right?" Demi asked, worried that she worded it incorrectly. The last thing she needed was to piss Ansley off. Hadn't she already done enough of that the Sunday before she left for her tour?