LJ Idol Season 9, Week 03, In Another Castle
Some part of her wants to compare it to Deployments One through Three: the sudden sinking feeling in her stomach at the news, and how her stomach remains in her shoes as it gets closer to Day One. Except with deployments, she knew there would be an expiration date, a date where her ex would (hopefully) come home. This -- this is different. This won’t have an end.
Her roommate is moving out. Not today, not tomorrow -- but soon. Too soon for her liking, with hardly any warning and probably no time for her to truly wrap her head around it. Moving. To the other side of the country.
She frowns, eyes burning with a hint of tears as she turns this information over in her mind. When he first talked about leaving, just a few days before, he couched it in what-ifs and maybes -- but she also heard the lack of hesitance behind his words. Saw the way his eyes seemed so clear when he spoke of taking off with only a handful of objects and the money from his voluntary resignation.
She had seen that look exactly once before -- had heard that tone. I want to join the Marine Corps, she remembers, and her heart aches at the memory. Her ex had suggested she follow, that they get married, that they stick together through his military career. The memory burns as both a painful reminder of how things used to be, how much the two of them had loved one another, and how she’d have followed him anywhere -- and as a warning to not fall into the same trap a second time.
Except her roommate isn’t suggesting she come with him. Days after his initial admission, he comes to terms that this isn’t a what-if, a maybe. He’s leaving, and he’ll be leaving her behind. Leaving her alone, in this huge house, trapped with her ex as she struggles to find a way out.
And then, as he speaks, the television paused in the background, their fingers interlocked, there’s that hesitance she didn’t see before. He wants to leave, he wants to find a happiness he doesn’t feel he can find here. And she understands, she truly does, but she doesn’t want him to leave.
And he doesn’t want to leave her.
He leans in, then -- perhaps sensing her dismay, perhaps out of a desire to finish something she had put to an abrupt end only months before -- but she’s the one who closes the distance. She’s the one who pulls him closer, and he mumbles something about blaming her for this against her lips, to which she rolls her eyes.
She knows she shouldn’t be doing this. She knows how much of a Bad Idea this is. Except she doesn’t break away from him as fast as she should, her lips lingering and the tears abating, at least for now. Conversation shifts, their focus ends up back on the television, and she almost refuses to let go of him, her fingers still intertwined with his.
It won’t be home without him, she wants to say. She’ll miss him, she wants to say more. But these are all things he knows, so she doesn’t feel the need to say them. Instead, she wrestles with a confession: whether to tell him she doesn’t want him to go. Because as much as she wants him to stay, she also knows that this is something he Needs to Do, and she doesn’t want to accidentally influence his decision.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he says at some point, leaning his head on her shoulder.
She turns her face towards his, and she wants to say that she won’t get hurt: but that would be a lie. So she pauses, catching her bottom lip underneath her teeth, feeling her jaw quiver as she takes in a steadying breath. “That’s why we shouldn’t pursue anything further, Joe,” she says, squeezing his fingers.
But when his eyes meet hers, her breath catches in her throat. She drops her eyes to the floor, her thumb running along his absently. Chances were that, if he moved away, he’d find a new job, a new home, a new girl who’ll take his breath away, who he’ll tease the way he teases her, who he’ll fall in love with, and he’d be happier. And even if he didn’t find those things, he’d at least have no regrets with taking the chance to pick up life somewhere else.
She’d already watched him date other girls, after all -- and, strangely, she never once felt threatened, never once felt jealous. He was her best friend -- and that never changed, not even when he was with someone else. But...
Just a note, I'd like to thank both n3m3sis43 and witchwife for their input. Their suggestions were quite useful and came quite in handy. :) So thanks so much, guys. <3
Her roommate is moving out. Not today, not tomorrow -- but soon. Too soon for her liking, with hardly any warning and probably no time for her to truly wrap her head around it. Moving. To the other side of the country.
She frowns, eyes burning with a hint of tears as she turns this information over in her mind. When he first talked about leaving, just a few days before, he couched it in what-ifs and maybes -- but she also heard the lack of hesitance behind his words. Saw the way his eyes seemed so clear when he spoke of taking off with only a handful of objects and the money from his voluntary resignation.
She had seen that look exactly once before -- had heard that tone. I want to join the Marine Corps, she remembers, and her heart aches at the memory. Her ex had suggested she follow, that they get married, that they stick together through his military career. The memory burns as both a painful reminder of how things used to be, how much the two of them had loved one another, and how she’d have followed him anywhere -- and as a warning to not fall into the same trap a second time.
Except her roommate isn’t suggesting she come with him. Days after his initial admission, he comes to terms that this isn’t a what-if, a maybe. He’s leaving, and he’ll be leaving her behind. Leaving her alone, in this huge house, trapped with her ex as she struggles to find a way out.
And then, as he speaks, the television paused in the background, their fingers interlocked, there’s that hesitance she didn’t see before. He wants to leave, he wants to find a happiness he doesn’t feel he can find here. And she understands, she truly does, but she doesn’t want him to leave.
And he doesn’t want to leave her.
He leans in, then -- perhaps sensing her dismay, perhaps out of a desire to finish something she had put to an abrupt end only months before -- but she’s the one who closes the distance. She’s the one who pulls him closer, and he mumbles something about blaming her for this against her lips, to which she rolls her eyes.
She knows she shouldn’t be doing this. She knows how much of a Bad Idea this is. Except she doesn’t break away from him as fast as she should, her lips lingering and the tears abating, at least for now. Conversation shifts, their focus ends up back on the television, and she almost refuses to let go of him, her fingers still intertwined with his.
It won’t be home without him, she wants to say. She’ll miss him, she wants to say more. But these are all things he knows, so she doesn’t feel the need to say them. Instead, she wrestles with a confession: whether to tell him she doesn’t want him to go. Because as much as she wants him to stay, she also knows that this is something he Needs to Do, and she doesn’t want to accidentally influence his decision.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he says at some point, leaning his head on her shoulder.
She turns her face towards his, and she wants to say that she won’t get hurt: but that would be a lie. So she pauses, catching her bottom lip underneath her teeth, feeling her jaw quiver as she takes in a steadying breath. “That’s why we shouldn’t pursue anything further, Joe,” she says, squeezing his fingers.
But when his eyes meet hers, her breath catches in her throat. She drops her eyes to the floor, her thumb running along his absently. Chances were that, if he moved away, he’d find a new job, a new home, a new girl who’ll take his breath away, who he’ll tease the way he teases her, who he’ll fall in love with, and he’d be happier. And even if he didn’t find those things, he’d at least have no regrets with taking the chance to pick up life somewhere else.
She’d already watched him date other girls, after all -- and, strangely, she never once felt threatened, never once felt jealous. He was her best friend -- and that never changed, not even when he was with someone else. But...
Just a note, I'd like to thank both n3m3sis43 and witchwife for their input. Their suggestions were quite useful and came quite in handy. :) So thanks so much, guys. <3