Like a Tattoo (Raura)

Chapter 7

Laura's POV

Aww tell me something I don't know ;D

I lightly bite down on my bottom lip with a grin, sending the text in reply to what Ross texted me when I woke up this morning.

I set down my flip phone, returning to the monotonous packing of suitcase after suitcase. Packing for this trip might otherwise be known as an intervention for my closet—it's so bare that at this point, it seems as if I'm moving out permanently.

I slingshot a hair tie off my thumb towards the opened suitcase across the room. With my lack of aim, it lands on the bed comforter behind the suitcase, right beside my airline ticket to London for Friday. I saunter over to the bed and daintily pick up the ticket like it's a dandelion with seeds I'm afraid will blow away.

Remind me again why I agreed yesterday to go to London? Not only is it five thousand miles from here, but it's a foreign country I'm not familiar with. I had no idea I was bargaining for so much when I admitted to myself I would end up stalling my apology to Ross.

Ever since Friday I haven't been able to get my head straight. The break up, the emotion, the texts, my compliance to go to London, how have I not had a mental breakdown yet?

I had finally decided I would be strong enough to keep my emotions in check to apologize to Ross, but again I found a reason not to. Without a doubt I have to apologize before I leave on Friday... which means I can apologize right before I leave. There's also that other burden of having to tell him I'm going to London for three months. I can put that off for Friday as well, I assume.

This whole process is like a test of my procrastination, I swear. Usually I never procrastinate, but then again I guess I've learned a lot about myself from all the time I've spent with Ross.

From the corner of my eye I spot some sort of jewelry glistening silver. I pick it up from my nightstand and clasp the untouched necklace around my neck, then rush to the bathroom to see how it looks in the mirror. It's a chain with two identical silver hearts interlinked. Ross got it for me a couple months ago. I remember how guilty I had felt as he draped it around my neck. I didn't deserve it then for toying with his emotions and I certainly don't deserve it now. On the night he gave it to me, when I got home I had put it on my nightstand. I swore I would never wear it because the guilt would absolutely choke me.

Yet here I am with the necklace. I can almost see Ross behind me smiling as he finishes wrapping the chain around my skin, overly content with the sweet gesture as he pulls back to look at us in the mirror in his bathroom, but not before ever so lightly leaving a kiss on my skin.

This time I don't feel the guilt. It's actually such a beautifully simple design, exactly like my style. And Ross knew that when he bought this.

I shouldn't be reminiscing over these moments that keep popping up in my head. They all happened when Ross and I were dating, and that's over now.

Somehow my mind continues drifting off to him as I load piles of clothes into the suitcase. I can't seem to shake his memory—I need a distraction.

Grabbing a nearby bag, I pack it with my things before heading to the gym.

And I'm still wearing the necklace. With those interlinked hearts.

Ross's POV

Laura and my text-only relationship is comforting in the best way, since I know she's at least willing to make the effort to communicate. Every text I send her though, I barely manage to avoid crossing the line between romantic and friendly. No matter how much I want to, I can't test her by bringing it further. Although I wish she would reach out to me more about our status, I can't force her to talk to me. Lesson learned from our past: never again am I going to force Laura into anything.