magnets | ethma

22

* SMUT FURTHER DOWN, 18+*

Ethan was an hour away and the wheel felt wet from the sweat of his palms. When he looked ahead at the road, his eyes saw a guide to his home. Someone that he loved so deeply for so many years.

Ethan's plan was to find Emma and to help her but to also let her know he loved her. A lot. He was so incredibly nervous.

Something he has struggled to even hint at for so long.

He didn't know what he was gonna find or even if she was okay but as he read over the address and put it into google maps, he was determined to find out.

He was glad about Serena being okay with the way he spoke about Emma. It was unintentional and Serena realised that.

Although Ethan had sexual encounters with Serena and also called her names like 'baby', they both knew it was nothing serious and there was no feelings behind it, he knew he couldn't do that with anyone else other than Her.

He was surprised he didn't go to any of the girls he used to fuck around with instead but in all honesty he used to fuck around with multiple girls because of the pain, this time he used Serena to replace the thought of Emma.

He needed a distraction.

And it didn't even work.

Nothing could, they were meant to be. Pulled together always, like magnets.

'I'll always come after you.' He thought.

Emma

"We are going out to dinner, you have to come Emma. It's final, get your shit." Mom moaned.

As always. Nothing fucking new.

"Nah no way, I feel ill anyway. Im gonna just lay in bed and watch a movi-... oh wait forgot I don't even have a fucking TV? This is wrong Mom."

"Oh my goodness! You're so ungrateful." Mom practically shoved down her foot like a fucking child. "Stay here Emma but if I know you've been out or doing something you shouldn't, watch what will happen."

The slam of the door after she disappeared was like a drug I couldn't get enough of.

I was so tired of this 'life' that's been set up for me. Pa is the only one that's helping me through. He understands that I'm a teenage girl who just wants to go home to my friends.

He'd bring me chocolate after I'd cry and would hug me so tight, telling me I'll go home soon.

But when is soon?

When I'm 18? When I runaway? When I die of fucking old age? I don't understand the 'soon' in this at all.

The fog against my window reminded me of how sad this whole thing was. You know, pathetic fallacy and all.

Home was always sunny, there was also a boy at home that would be the sun in this situation. He'd make this all better.

I can imagine him playing with my hair whilst we watch the raindrops on the window. He'd tell me everything was okay like he always has.

Where is he and what is he doing?

I would really do anything to have him with me.

It's then in my bed that I remember all the times we were close to doing what used to be his hobby. His hands on me and the way he would look at me always told me- he was desperate for it.

And although I had no experience in that area whatsoever- I was desperate for him to teach me.

In fact if he walked through this door right now, I'd drop to my knees and do something my Mom would crucify me for.