Firsts and Lasts- Kliensen

First Break Up

Yeah, the chapter name says it all! If you're wondering why I didn't publish last week, it's because I published a Carry On one-shot instead... 

For those of you reading who actually wondered...

Self promo over, let's go.

-20 years old-

---Evan---

We've been together for exactly six months and I see him nearly every day but I only get Jared to come out maybe once a week, because he seems determined to be this painfully plain guy, not really the funny, snarky one I remember.

Ding dong!

God, who am I kidding, I don't want to do this at all- I've been trying to convince myself I do as I get on formal clothes and run my fingers through my hair and face-time my mom so I can not-freak-out to her, but I don't want this.

I don't want to dress nice, I don't want a fancy dinner, I don't want to talk to the waiter and have three different forks but this is what normal couples do and I'm normal.

So I step out and I smile, and it's okay, it's just I'm not feeling all that much- no I am, I'm feeling jittery and my palms are sweating- shit- and I notice that Jared looks absolutely beautiful but over this nervous buzz I can barely feel my heart dance and my stomach flip.

It should be easier to feel, but he's acting like a cardboard cut out again.

I sit with my back to the room, I clench my teeth and order for myself, I clench my hands and I don't fidget with anything, I bit each of my responses down to a sentence- not a word or two, not a ramble, but the perfect in-between because God it's our anniversary so I have to be perfect.

This is good. I'm getting better and now maybe Jared will stop treating me like I'm going to break or explode if he steps wrong, but it's a conscious itch in my mind, do it right, do it right, do it right.

Jared talks about his job, computers- not that I'm not interested, just that he talks in this tone that's so uninteresting that- okay fine- I'm not interested.

"I miss you," I blurt. "I mean, I know, fine, you're right here, it's just- I feel like, maybe, I feel like you're not."

And this is how it begins.

---Jared---

I have no fucking idea what he's talking about. I want to say really? So am I a ghost or...? But I think he might freak- what if he feels like I'm attacking?

If anything, he's the one who's been detached today, like there's water between us instead of air. I've been living right here in the moment, catching each of my comments lightning fast.

Literally lightning, because light is one of the few things faster than sound. I have to catch it before it leaves my mouth. So.

"I'm right here," I say instead, and I don't know that I did but I think he's freaking out more than I've seen him since Alana- I think he's working himself up to say something and it's scaring the hell out of him.

I won't lie; it's scaring the hell out of me.

"It's just..." Evan's fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt, which I haven't seen for a while, and he looks behind him like something might be there. There isn't.

"No, wait. Why do you feel like I'm not here-" I'm really trying to not sound hurt or anything. Blank. I'm blank. I sound blank. My middle name is blank. "If anything, you're not here. It's like you're always preoccupied. You don't care anymore or something." So much for blank.

At least I wasn't sarcastic.

Evan pulls back into himself, and my heart plummets before he even opens his mouth.

But all he says is, "Can we sw- Can I sit on your side of the table?" and then, "No, no nevermind, I don't- I don't need- nevermind."

"We can switch if you want," I offer, keeping my voice even. Is this it? That's our problem here?

Evan's shoulders pull up around him. It's like he's slipping away through my fingers right before my eyes and when I try to tighten my hands they do nothing but loosen. "It's fine, I'm done."

I've been done for a while- I eat like there's a timer.

I look at him as we pay. He's still looking behind him. There's nothing there-

Oh. He's probably one of those people who sits with his back to the wall. I want to hold him and hug him.

I want him to trust me with that kind of information.

"You could've told me you wanted to sit where I was," I mention cautiously as we walk out, cold air hitting us in a wave.

"Tell you- why?" I can't get a read on his voice.

I shrug. "Because you wanted to. Right? That makes you uncomfortable?"

Evan's shoulders pull up higher. "Don't- you shouldn't assume things, Jared."

"I wouldn't have to if you just told me," I shoot back, eyes stinging. God, I know he lashes out like a scared animal, but the knowledge doesn't help the pain.

"You already treat me like I can't handle anything-"

"Because you can't! You can't even sit with your back to the restaurant!"

"That! That is why I didn't tell you, okay? Because you act like I'm about to crack at any moment!" Shit, he's right.

I shouldn't have said that. Evan turns.

"I wouldn't have- I didn't mean to-"

"No jokes. None at all, Jared, and I'm- it's nice of you to make an effort to not hurt me, but I can take a little teasing, okay? I'm not a- a-"

"No, you're right, you're absolutely normal. With your panic attacks- or anxiety- I don't know, I've only seen about five of them."

"You're- You- Why are you such an asshole?"

I grit my teeth. Shouldn't have said that either, but damn- " What the hell do you want from me, Hansen?"

Evan's eyes are wide, white in the darkness of the light, as if he is a scared animal. "I don't- not that, Jared, I'm not a cuddle toy or a target, I'm your boyfriend, and you're- I don't know, you're supposed to be yourself around them." Evan looks like he's angrily trying not to cry.

I curse. I want to tell him how hard I've tried to not say anything that would hurt him. He's gotta appreciate the effort at least, right? "I shouldn't have said that last part, you're not target practice. Or a cuddle bunny."

"I don't know, sometimes it's hard to tell, isn't it?"

He has slipped out. And as I watch him leave, I wonder if part of me let him go.

I could've teased him. Tough love. Fun and games. Normal stuff. He just wants to be treated like a normal guy. I didn't because I didn't think he could handle it.

I guess I do treat him like he's more of a delicate item than a person who can struggle and feel and- ultimately- grow.

I guess that's what he couldn't handle.

XXX

That was the last time in a long time either heart got broken.

Sorry, I suck at making people fight and stuff. I make them too nice and I make them get mad over little things because I can't bear to make anyone fuck up really badly. Apologies for the most uncalled for, badly written argument in existence.