love came calling, twice // olly murs

38.

Olly staggered up the stairs an hour later, looking to get some sleep. He passed the closed door to Amelia's room, not wanting to disturb her. She needed to be alone and he needed to think, needed to put this off as long as he could. But when he stepped into his room, he was more than slightly surprised to see Amelia sitting on the edge of his bed. He had expected her to go to her own room, spend time alone. Not go to his.

Her frame was stiff, tense; her shoulders pulled back and her posture rigid. Her knees were pressed together and her hands folded in her lap tightly as her bottom lip trembled. Her face was pale and her eyes glossy, hair tied in a loose, messy bun at the back of her head. She looked tired and she looked broken. It scared him.

Seeing her like this broke his heart and he resisted his first urge which was to bound across the room and pull her into his arms. Instead, he remained where he was and leaned against the back of the door, watching her. She didn't even seem to notice he was there.

Things had been going so extremely well. Of course they couldn't last. Of course something had to come along and ruin everything between them. Why had Shannon come? Why did she need to bring Tom back into their lives?

But remembering the way Amelia had run out of the room at Shannon's revelations...had he ever really left? Had Amelia ever really healed? Looking at her now, he swallowed the lump in his throat. Why had she reacted the way she did?

He could chock it up to three things. Number one, that Tom's death would always be hard, because all deaths were. Number two, that it was simply too much to take and was drudging up old memories and number three, the one that despite everything he was telling himself, Olly felt was the one that was most accurate.

That she wasn't over Tom and that this thing she had with him had simply been a rebound.

He didn't want to think that way, he wanted to believe that she was falling in love with him like she claimed she was. But everything had moved so fast; they had gotten together so quickly. It had been a whirlwind of emotions, confessions and lips, teeth and tongue. A shudder ran through him as he wondered if it every really amounted to anything more than lust.

He cleared his throat and her head snapped up, finally acknowledging his presence. Her eyes were large and watery and his heart cracked a little bit at the sight of them.

"Hi," she said quietly, wiping at her eyes. "I...um..." She began to cry again. "Sorry."

He couldn't take it anymore and came to sit next to her. God he should have stayed where he was. If he had, he wouldn't do what he was about to. He should have gone to her room to check on her. Then he would have realized that she was in his and stayed there, avoiding this.

But he was slightly drunk and more than a little depressed and more than anything, he knew what he had to do. He had to let her go so she could heal.

Even if it broke his heart.

He came and sat next to her on the bed and brought his hand to the back of her neck, caressing the skin softly. "Hey, hey," he said as she trembled, still crying. "It's okay."

"This has been a crazy night," she choked out. "It's so hard...feeling this way."

Olly flinched. Feeling what way? He wanted to ask, but instead he bit his lip. "I think you and I should talk, Amelia."

Her eyes flickered up to his again. "About what? About Shannon? How did she get here anyways? Oh, god..."

"No," he swallowed, bringing her face closer to his. "About us."

He kissed her languidly, softly, wanting to memorize the feel of her lips against his as a part of him knew this would be their last. She responded back as always, but he felt the wetness against his cheeks and knew things could never be the same. They couldn't go back now and they couldn't move forward. Breaking apart from her, he rested his forehead against hers before speaking.