Basically Infinity ∞ [DISCONTINUED]

(אָιι) яє∂/вℓυє/ρυяρℓє

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вℓιѕѕ·fυℓ ::

ρяσνι∂ιиg ρєяfєςт нαρριиєѕѕ σя gяєαт נσу.

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         "Hi," a voice coated with false sweetness came. "It's good to see you again."

         I feel my whole body tense and I bite my tongue in my mouth - one of my nervous ticks. Shit. I was not prepared for this at all. I open my mouth to try and talk, but can't. Of course. Weirdly, Aubrey isn't saying anything. She's not up close and personal, defending me. She doesn't make a sound. Surprisingly, I'm the one that has to talk. I'm never the one that has to talk. It's always Aubrey retaliating and arguing and debating and making great points, shouting at people. She's always protected me, but not now.

         "What?" I watch as an eyebrow is raised over the cold, empty, icy blue eyes I've feared for a while now. "Cat got your tongue?"

         He smirks and I feel chills shoot down my spine. His head is turned slightly downwards which casts a dramatic shadow over his eyes from his brow bone. His eyes are slightly narrowed and he takes a slight step towards me. I silently hope that Aubrey does something, that she says something. Until I feel a pit drop in my stomach. She can't feel what I'm thinking anymore. She doesn't know what I'm feeling. And I realize that I'm the only one that can do anything. And I realize that Aubrey sure as fuck isn't helping me.

         "W-What do you want?" I say, trying to put up a false wall of confidence. "What the fuck could you possibly want?"

         "Ellie," he says softly in his smooth, low voice. A voice that I fell in love with once upon a time. A voice that I cherished, turned to when I was sad, and absolutely adored. But not anymore. It's become a voice that I hate to my core. A voice that haunts me in my nightmares, a voice that I can't bear to listen to.

         "It's been a while," he smiles delicately. "I just wanted to talk to you. You know, ask you how you've been doing, ask you if you're alright, that sort of thing. Ask you if you've fallen in love again."

         "Why would you care? You've always pretended to care but you never have," I swallow hard. "So why are you caring now? Is this just a big charade? What's your ulterior motive?"

         "Shh," he shakes his head gently. "Calm down. You don't need to ask so many questions, Ellie. You know, I've missed you a lot. I think about you all the time."

         "I think about you all the time, too," I say sweetly. If he's going to pretend that he's nice and cares about me, I can, too. I can see in his eyes that he's ready to break my heart again after what I just said. But he doesn't know. He doesn't know.

         "I think about you all the time," I repeat myself. "About how you loved me, about how you cared for me, about how safe I felt with you... I think about the fucked up way you treated me. About how I didn't want to ever look at you because of the fear you created."

         "Would you believe me if I said I changed?" he asked, looking down, pretending to be sad and apologetic. 

         "Of course not. You changing is about as impossible as me forgiving you for what you did."