Eighty Days of Heartache

the forty-third day;

THE FORTY—THIRD DAY;

THE LAST TIME I was in a car with Theo, comes just short of a year ago. It feels strange. Sitting beside him, as if nothing happened. However it feels somewhat natural.

I should feel nervy. I should feel my bruised heart leap out of my chest, and a cold sweat pour over my body. But I think it's the fact he sits beside me in my car, and not his, that settles my stomach.

"I have a plan," he mutters, looking through my glove compartment and pulling out various albums. "I told you there was a reason as to why I needed to meet up with you, and it's because I have a master plan."

Theo always has loved a plan. As I look a him; chiselled jaw, boyishly dirty blond hair, and a wide grin that doesn't falter, I realise that he hasn't changed as he proclaims, and if he has, I have yet to see it.

"You remember this groupchat that Kathleen mentioned?" I nod, watching as he picks out an old album, and flicks it over to gaze at the songs. "Huh, our song is on here."

"Theo," I snap, grinding my teeth together and trying not to reminisce about our song. I skip it every time it comes on the CD. I turn off the radio if ever it comes on. "Why did want to meet me?"

His eyes flicker to mine, and he licks his mouth before closing the glove compartment. "I think she was lying about it, she clammed up when we asked her if there was anything else in this groupchat."

Wrinkling my nose, I nod my head and lean against my door, my hair hanging out the window and blowing in the wind. "So what are you going to do?"

Smirking, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against his own car door. The hand break and gearstick separating us with a good amount of space that I can cope with.

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out."

I scowl and cross my arms petulantly over my chest, frustration lacing my blood as I give him a wry look. "If you put it to me like that, I have very little faith you won't do something stupid or reckless."

"It's probably both of those things," he shrugs, brushing at the bottom of his shirt and avoiding eye contact with me. "But if it's going to help me find it why Nero's being dickish— I mean, out of character, it'll be worth it."

Gritting my teeth, I shake my head and try not to look into those baby blue eyes of his. The ones so clear that I can see my past, present and future in them. The ones that cause my heart to ache.

Whispering I say, "don't... act like you're doing this for me."

His eyes soften, before he leans over the gearstick and placed his hand on the edge of my seat; and even though he isn't touching me, I can still feel him. His warm, soft touch never left me.

My bottom lip wobbles.

"But I am doing this for you," he whispers back, with a knitted brow and a crestfallen face. "Fawn, everything I do, is for you. Coming back. Leaving in the first place. Every. Damn. Thing, is for you."

"I never asked for that," muttering the words back, I watch as Theo's face hardens at the words that leave my mouth.

"I know you didn't," he solemnly nods, his lips thinned out and his hand removed from the seat. He's everywhere in this car. His scent in the air. His hands on my seat. His loose hair sticking to the headrest.

Theo is, and always has been, inescapable.

"You didn't ask for this, but you're still getting this," he leans back with his head out of the window, the window making it loose and shaggy almost. With closed eyes he finishes. "But when you love someone, you look after them Fawn."

I don't say anything, because I know he's right. When you love someone, that's what you do... you care and watch out for them, and that's all Theo has ever done for me.

I can't say the same for Nero.

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[ a.n ]

• so theo has i plan and i have anxiety, what's good — although i joke about my anxiety, it's progressively getting better!! im now attending counselling at school & have been recommended cognitive behaviour therapy , CBT by my counsellor. it truly has worked, but CBT is hard !!

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— NARITA 🧡