These Demons

Chapter Forty-two

"Andy?"

I stop breathing for a moment when she finally looks at me.
"You really came," she points out the obvious, our eyes locked, and we're both standing in the hallway with only our fear separating us.
We're in public and anyone could show up any second, but nobody does, so it feels like we're somewhere far alone with each other because no one is paying attention.

"It's my party," I hear myself say, my voice distant.
"It is, but many thought you wouldn't be here," Zoe admits.
She looks so stunning in her plain short black dress, only tights covering her long legs, and she didn't tie her hair and loosely like this, it's just like dark liquid silk, so soft I wish I could touch it.

"Did you think that too?" I find myself asking her and she breaks our eye contact, leaving me behind aching inside.
"I wasn't sure," she says with her gaze dropped to the dirty floor.
"Why are you here then?" I ask further without letting any of my emotions come through because I'd break down if I let them.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come," she suddenly says after silence between us.
"But you did," I quietly respond and try to catch the look on her face I can't  read.
"I honestly don't know why," Zoe mumbles, shaking her head.
"You're sure about that?" I want to know again. I must know why she's here. What she's doing here.
If she really is here because of me.

"I'd wish you a happy birthday, but you don't seem to be in a very celebrating mood," she refuses to respond to my request and kicks a shard of glass away with one of her high heels.
"Yeah, I know," I agree and find myself running my hand through my hair again like I often do when I'm nervous, and right now I'm panicking because I'm so afraid of saying the wrong thing.
Now that she's here, don't want her to leave.

"So why did you show up?" Zoe takes a turn to ask and I slowly shrug.
"I don't really know either," is all I can reply and she actually chuckles.
I catch her gaze again when she looks up.
"So we're both clueless?"
"Apparently, yes."
My lips find themselves curling up in a smile for the first time in days.
"Why are we talking then?" she asks me and I take a moment, savoring the chance to look at her.
"It's good to hear your voice, Zoe," I honestly state and she smiles too.
"Yours too."

"How have you been doing?"
I wish I could ask her if she's done it with someone else, but I don't dare.
"Oh, you know. As usual. This and that job to pull through," she casually tells me, but nothing about this is casual.
"Right. You're good at that," I pretend to be small talking too.
"I'm a survivor. Always have been."
Her smile has faded, but she doesn't look away.
"Yeah, I know," I admit with a lump in my throat and wish I could close the gap between us.
"You don't look too alive, sunshine," she mentions and I actually smile again.
"Screw you," I answer, both of us aware I don't actually mean it.
"I'm serious, Andy. You don't look like you've been trying to get any help," she worryingly returns to the old topic and I wish I could be angry, but I can't. This only shows that she truly cares, doesn't it?

"Well, I haven't," I concede and swallow hard, awaiting her reply, and she raises both of her eyebrows in surprise.
"You're admitting it?"
"I don't really see the point in lying to you right now," I keep making confessions because I want to quit the lies when it comes to her.
She matters too much even though I don't know why. Not yet, at least.

"That's nice to hear, I guess. But why me?" She tilts her head wondering and I press my lips together for another painful moment of silence, and someone stumbles out of a bathroom behind us without the ability to walk a straight line, but neither of us minds.

My heart begins to race in my chest and I dig my nails into my palms again as my level of anxiety rises up even higher.
"It's always been you, Zoe," I finally force myself to speak it out loud, my jaw clenched because I'm so afraid, and she is obviously dazzled by my confession too and wrinkles her forehead.
"Why are you saying this?"
That's a good question I probably can't really answer.
All I know is this, but I'm shaking as I say it.
"I... I don't know if you want to hear it, but I need to know I said it, you know?"
She still seems taken aback, but not even slightly angry or upset, and I believe that's a good sign. I haven't scared her away with my statement.
"And why is that?" she asks instead of getting mad at me again.
"Clarity?" I try weakly because I'm out of explanations at this point.
"For what?"
She has so many questions and I understand why, but I know just as much as she does.
"I don't really know anything anymore," I honestly tell her.
"Yeah, we had that," she sighs and shakes her head.

Silence fills the air once again.
"I didn't think this would be so awkward," I finally concede and she gives me another small smile, but it shows sadness I don't want to see on her.
"Have you been thinking about me?"
That actually manages to throw me off the rails because it's what I least expected.
Why does she want to know this?
Why does she care?
"I..." Be honest with her. "Yes."
Another quiet moment that's painful to witness.
"Me too," she finally almost whispers.
I lift my head and perk my eyebrows, completely puzzled by this once again. "Really?"
"Of course. Do you think I would have put up with all of this shit if I didn't care?" I know exactly what she means.
"Now that's nice," I try to joke and Zoe rolls her eyes.
"You know what I mean."
"I do?" I provoke her because I want her to say more.
"I mean that I care," she finally says and I almost grin. "I figured."
"I wish you cared about you too," she wipes the smile off my face again.
"That makes two," I admit and we both keep our mouths shut- again.

"I'm sorry, Zoe," I have to tell her, but she doesn't get it.
"For what?"
"Everything," I can only say, but she shakes her head.
"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to get better."
I sigh at her worries because I don't want them. I'm not worth it, and nothing will change.
"You care too much," I tell her and she actually snickers.
"That thought has occurred to me as well. Believe me."
"But you just won't give up, will you?"

"I... I should go," she suddenly tries to end our conversation and my heartbeat quickens again.
"Why?"
"I shouldn't even be here, Andy." Her eyes are pleading, but I can't tell for what.
"Yes, you should," I insist, but she disagree.
"Why? This isn't my place."
"But... I..." I hastily try to pull together a believable reason to make her stay, but can't because I know I was never good for her.
I only make her feel sorry for me.
"Have a nice birthday, Andy. Really."
I believe her, but when she turns around and continues to walk down the hallway toward the second exit, I have to stop her.

"Zoe, wait," I beg her and she stops, but doesn't turn around.
"What do you want?"
My brain is flat-lining, my mind not working properly, but I know I'm not lying. Not this time.
"I think... I think I love you."

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Evanescence - Even In Death