Crashing. (A JSE×reader fanfic)

Sympathy Pain

  August 16th, 9:19 a.m.

  You dont remember falling asleep, but as your eyes flutter open, you instantly scan the bed for him. Your heart sinks into your stomach when you find no trace of him. You throw your jelly-like legs over the side of the bed, shaking as you make your way out of the room and into the hall. You swallow to yourself, unable to see him in the kitchen thus far. You step into the livingroom, your eyes scanning the couch for his familiar figure...

  But theres nothing. No one... Your eyes further scan the apartment, but stop in their tracks on a note taped to the door. You arent sure whether you should jump for joy or weep. You tentatively take the few steps over to the door, seeming to take years to reach it. Your hand quivers as you peel it away from the door and draw it up to your face.

'I'll send for my things.'

  Thats it...? Thats all he wrote? How could...- why...- Is he...- None of those are fair questions. You know the answer to all of them. He could because he wanted to. He left because you gave him a free chance, and yeah, hes serious. And it doesnt seem like hes coming back either.

  Fine! After all thats exactly what he wanted. You crumple the note, tossing it to the floor as tears of frustration stream down your cheeks. Anger and heartbreak brew inside you, bucking around like a rodeo in your aching chest as you stomp back to your room.

   You toss on the first sports bra and shorts you can find, not giving half a fuck if they match or if they're even clean. You need to leave. You cant stay here where your mind clouds over with memories of him.

  You haul yourself out of your bedroom window and onto the roof, flinging yourself from it to the building behind your apartment. You land clumsily, stumbling a bit but you quickly correct yourself, still struggling to see past the haze of tears. You jump off the edge of the roof, catching yourself on a drain pipe of the next building, shimmying yourself down untill you're low enough to fall to the ground without injury.

  You hit the ground running, desperate to reach your location, but hating yourself for wanting to be there. After all, Jack told you time after time that he'd fallen in love with the place. He'd take you there for dates and to try to out perform your parkour. He'd always lose, though, seeming to forget who his teacher is.

  You reach the graffiti scrawled, delapitated concrete skeleton of a building, vaulting through the gapping hole in the west side. You clammor your way up to the second floor, stumbling here and there over the junk littering the uneven floor, but refuse to slow down untill your reach your favorite room.

  You spin around in circles in it, feeling lost, angry, confused, and broken. Why are you here? To go through the motions of a run to clear your head? To exhaust yourself so that you no longer feel anything? Its stupid of you to come to the exact place he's praised and adored since the first time you brought him here. You find yourself angry at the building for giving him the happiness you couldnt.

  You spin around, throwing a well aimed punch into the cold pillar. Your hand explodes with pain as you draw it away, your eyes glued to the blood now smeared on the pillar like a target. You felt it drip down your fingers onto the floor, staining it as well. You wish it didnt slow you down, you wanted to hit the pillar again and again. You wanted to make the building collapse, but instead, you did, onto the floor in a heaping pile of sobs.

  Your hiccups echo off the walls as you press the heal of your hands into your eyes, willing the tears to stop. How can you cry over him when you asked him to leave in the first place? If you're going to be mad at anyone, it should be yourself. After all, you initiated the fight as usual, you couldnt trust him for even a moment, and you pushed him away, practically out the door.
 
  You sob harder willing him to drop in from the hole in the roof of the next room and comfort you. Or haul himself through the delapitated doorframe and lift you to your feet. What would it take to gt him to wrap his arms around you again? A million apologies? Youd gladly recite every one of them one after another. How could you ask him to fogive you? After all, he gave you what he thought you wanted...