Never Alone

7 : 4 9 | A M

Isabella leaned against the door frame as Elliot let himself out the next morning.  He didn't look quite as much of a shambles as he had last night, which was a good thing, she supposed. She still remembered how pale his face had looked beneath the shade of his dark hoodie. He had looked as if he was a man on a whim, barely a ghost as his pale cheeks faded into something of a startling white. And his eyes had been elsewhere, clouded over with thought as he just stared at the ground for a while. A long time. And how he hadn't responded when she called his name. How he hadn't responded the second time, either. Or the third. Only jolted back into the present when she had given him a light tap on the shoulder. It had been scary, to see him like that. And it made her wonder how the people around her felt when she did the same thing. Completely out of it. Struggling to stay afloat in a sea of thoughts that were desperate to pull her under. And it had made her realise what it felt to care again. To care for someone truly, and to feel the pain that they felt just simply because they were hurting. 

And it had hit in the face like a flying truck. That she did care for this boy, no matter how scary that was. Because Elliot had been there, he was part of the reason that she was healing in the way that she was. And it wasn't as if he could take full credit for putting her onto the road to recovery. No, it just so happened that he had been there to give her a little nudge in the right direction, she had done all the driving herself. And she hadn't realised just how much that little nudge had meant to her. But now, for some reason, she saw it. She saw the crumbling pain on his face and felt a little tug in her chest. Just a little pull. But it was enough. It was enough to tell her that she was caring again. That she hadn't lost that part of herself when she lost Clark. That she still had the ability to feel.

And that was a little scary. Specifically as it hadn't ended so great last time. But, hey, she couldn't just write off her own story without seeing how it all played out. It was only the ending if she decided that it was. And maybe Elliot wouldn't be such a bad way to carry on the story.

She accepted her new found feelings and let him in, setting him down on the couch next to her as she set her laptop down on the coffee table. And it didn't take long for Elliot to break down. He had been breaking down a lot lately, emotions pulled away by the tides controlled by the moon. Sometimes he was so far away that she could barely see the edge of the water, so far in the distance that she could only hope to see the slight shimmer of water reflected in the moonlight. And then the tide would come back in again, so fast that it almost knocked her off her feet. And she would be caught up in the emotion again, struggling not to cry with him as she cradled his head as he cried. But she let herself go, trusting herself to swim and hoping that he would do the same. Assuring him that it would be okay, that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't have the ability to wrap his water around everyone. That the ocean was so large that some people were bound to slip under at some point. 

But they would come back up.

She would come back up.

Maddie would come back up.

And it wasn't his fault that he couldn't control his own waves. He either came into a shore or he didn't. And, deep down, a little selfish part of her was overwhelmingly blessed to have such a refreshing blessing wash upon her beach.

And then he had stopped crying.

And she just sat there, his head on her lap as she softly ran her fingers through his hair. And their breathing was even. And then, for no reason at all, they both started to laugh. And the tide was coming in again but, this time, it just about lapped around their ankles. A nice, soothing feeling that just about took away the heat of the scorching sun. A nice, inviting feeling. It was the ocean telling them that it was waiting for them. That they were welcome to swim any time they wanted but they were fine just where they were. Just for that moment.

And then conversation had struck up. Not about anything in particular, of course. Although Elliot did at one point bring up her blog, and how he had stumbled across it from one of his friends. And that he didn't believe it was her at first. But then he realised. And he was so proud. Proud to know her. Proud of how strong she was. Understood why she probably hadn't been ready to speak it all out loud yet. Told her how popular it was and that he really thought that it could make a difference.

And then she had smiled.

And laughed some more.

And then, at some point. They had both fallen asleep.

And now he was leaving again.

With a smile this time.

But Isabella was okay with that.

Because she knew that, no matter how many times a tide left, it was always bound to come back to shore.