His Good Girl (h.s.)

twenty one

It's 4:28 in the morning and I'm so exhausted. My eyes burn with sleepiness, but my heart is pounding and my brain is running through every conversation I've ever had with him. Carefully analyzing the tone of his voice and the punctuation in text messages, I scour memories for any hope that he was emotionally present in anything.

Parker's text is still on my screen from the night before, just hours ago. I fell asleep before he could call me so he wished me a good night and looked forward to seeing me tomorrow. He's perfect. Everything I want, everything I need. But my thoughts always run to him instead. I question my innocence in the situation. I replay everything and find nonexistent reasons I'm the one at fault. I take the blame for his actions. It feels like a sickness. I know, rationally, I did nothing to provoke this and he is responsible for his words and actions, but I convince myself I hurt him. I drove him away. I need him back.

It's 5:12 now. My fingers furiously type everything I've pondered the past few weeks. "Sorry" is repeated over and over again. "I'm sorry I feel this way."

I'm too focused to wipe the tears falling down my cheeks. It's all done and finished, but it doesn't feel ready. It doesn't feel like it's enough. He needs to feel what I feel.

✧ ✧ ✧

My hands are shaky. I hold a white envelope with his name written across the front in small black letters. It's the closest thing I can do to make him understand.

Taking a deep breath, I knock on the wooden door and anxiously wait for an answer. I look down at my boots and silently pray he's not home. The door opens and I gather my thoughts instantly.

"Violet," he looks at me with such surprise. "I've missed you." His eyes are sincere and I fight my instinct to throw myself into his arms.

"Hi, I just wanted to give you something." I extend my arm and hand him the letter.

He takes it out of my hand with hesitance and confusion. I can't help but notice how perfectly his hair is tousled and his bare, tattooed arms look so welcoming. God, Violet, keep it together.

"What is this?" his brow is furrowed in confusion.

"Just some things I've wanted to tell you," I nervously tuck my hair behind my ear and try to wrap up the conversation. "just read it."

I step back and try to leave without another word, but his arm grabs me before I can escape this cloud of anxiety.

"Vi," he looks me in the eyes. "I've missed you."

I might burst into tears right now, but it's not the time.

"Just read it." I remove myself from his grip and walk down the hallway to the elevator.

✧ ✧ ✧

I'm sitting next to Parker on the couch. We're watching White Chicks because it was my turn to decide on the movie. He's falling asleep with his head in my lap so I gently brush his hair back and run my fingers through his hair to relax him. After last night, he has been in an awful mood. The baseball team lost a very important game, something to do with playoffs. I didn't really understand, but I didn't want to ask questions.

I keep my laughter quiet and I just feel warm inside. This is everything I've ever wanted. Things are so easy with him even when it feels like everything is falling apart around us. He's the kind of stability I've only ever dreamt of.

My phone buzzes next to me and I flip it over. It's him.

I read your letter and I need to see your beautiful face.

My stomach drops. I don't know what I was expecting. A part of me thought he would laugh at my emotions, but I knew he would never belittle me like that. He needed to know so I could move on, but was that really my goal? Moving on? A girl with a boy like Parker doesn't pour her heart out to another guy unless she has other intentions.

God, I'm a horrible person.

A/N: OMFG HI! LONG TIME NO SEE! I'm soooo sorry guys. Honestly life happened and I've been working on poetry instead of long works like this. Also I'm in college and dealing with everything that comes with that. I hope you guys are doing amazing because y'all beautiful beings.