perfectly wrong | ethma

twenty

a/n sorry for the slow updates !! this story is still active and not even close to being over. thanks for all the kind words & comments so far.

i insisted that ethan stay home while i go do some funeral errands, but he wanted to tag along with me. we were currently trying to pick flowers? the florist was showing a bunch of different lovely options.

"this doesn't even fucking matter," ethan mumbles. "none of it matters." he says louder this time.

"well if you don't like these options, we have some of these-" the florist tries to reason.

"it doesn't fucking matter!" he yells. other people around us begin to stare. i grab into his arm and tug at it. i wanted to take him somewhere to calm down. "my dad is dead, so i'm pretty sure he doesn't think it fucking matters either."

"ethan," i say softly as i manage to pull him a little. "we'll be right back." i tell the florist as we exit the tiny shop.

his chest rises up and down violently. his hair is messy, dark circles formed around his eyes, his shirt has stains from the day before. he's a mess.

"hey?" i try to get him to look at me. "ethan, please look at me." i reach my hand up to his face and gently put it on his cheek.

his eyes look at me, they're glossed over with tears. my touch is all it took for him to let out a sob. i try to hold it together, be strong.

"e, come here." i wrap my arms around him and he cries into my shoulder. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have let you come with me. we can ditch everything else and go wherever you want."

he pulls away and walks inside without another word. i follow behind him quickly, but he's already talking to the florist again.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes. "i didn't mean to yell like that and cause a scene."

"no need to apologize," the sweet elderly lady said. "and truth be told, the flowers probably don't matter too much to your father. they're really for the living, brings them some sort of comfort."

"my mom likes sunflowers, do you have like a bundle or something that has them in it?" he looks around.

"this over here," she walks to another part of the store. "daisys with some sunflowers and carnations."

"looks perfect," he says. "i'd like some of those for the funeral."

they continue to discuss price and dates for the arrival. he's good at putting a mask on, but i see right through him. i see the real him.

—

in the car on the way home after our long day, ethan was silent. he didn't say a word or even move an inch.

i pull into his driveway and sigh as i turn off the car. i wasn't sure if he wanted me to stay another night, so i waited for him to say something.

"thank you," he says out of nowhere. "you've done so much for me and my family and i don't know if anyone has said how much we appreciate you." he looks me in the eyes. "your mom too. she's made sure we've eaten at least one good meal per day." ethans smile was small, but very quickly faded.

"you're welcome," i say. "i'd do anything for you and your family, you know that."

he nods. "yeah, i know. and i'd do anything for you." he says getting out of the car. he shuts the door and peeks his head in the window. "i'll call you later maybe."

i was honestly shocked. i had been staying there for a few days now, but it's time to go home.

he gives me the best smile he can and says, "okay?"

"yeah, okay." i say nodding. i try to force a smile on my face. "hey, e?"

he turns his head back to face me. "yeah?"

"do you need some space? i know today was a a lot and i understand if you need-" i ramble.

"yeah," he says. "i need a little space."

i nod my head. "okay i l-" i stop myself mid sentence and widen my eyes. "i love how strong you were today." i saved myself.

he nods and walks away. i cover my face up and laugh lightly into my own hands.

close one.

—

ethans pov

"hey, wheres emma?" my mom asks as soon as i walk into the door. "i bought some face masks that her and i could do tonight."

"i told her to go home," i say. i'm completely out of energy from today. "it was time."

"oh," i could hear the disappointment from a mile away. "why did you tell her to go home?"

"who says i told her?" i got louder.

my mom raises her hands up in defense. "okay," he says. "well, did you?"

i open and then close my mouth. i make my way to the stairs and stop midway. "i'll do a face mask with you tonight, mom."

she smiles, a genuine smile. "okay, e."

she places the face masks on the counter and walks to the fridge.

"should we have sophias pasta for dinner tonight?" she yells up to me.

"yeah," i yell back. "sounds good to me!"

i walk into my room and it smells like her. the indent she made on my bed is still there along with her sweats and a couple of scrunchies. i pick up my phone to call her. it rings a couple of times before i hang up.

i need space. i told her that.

i flop down on my bed and stare at the ceiling remembering how everything was before three days ago.