Enchanted Series

August

Summary:

Part 8: August
-In which Taylor gives James her answer.

Notes:

Part 8 of the Enchanted Series loosely based on some aspects of Taylor's August song.

(See the end of the work for .)

Work Text:

Enchanted Series

Part 8: August

Months of James rehabilitation, and here he was, tossing the girl semi-drunken words into the stone-cold expression of her face. Three months? Four months? Five? Who honestly knows? It was August, that much she knew. But apparently, it was months for him to prepare a return to her small house in West Reading, located right in the not-so interesting state known as Pennsylvania, and not fall for the same traps that made her fall for him all those years ago. So many months of never once uttering his name and him not repeating vicious, backhanded insults towards her in his mind to fuel some forms of rage were supposed to stop him from doing just this. From saving James, even when she would much rather be saved by almost anyone else or whomever else could boost her practically shattered morale.

James tore himself out of the reality he ever truly knew, out of his comfort zone, relinquished his dreams all so he can escape her. All those days of numbing his emotions, his affections towards her, all to be thrown away by one very nostalgic, very bittersweet female almost hurling an entirely empty, stone-cold glare shot right at his face.

All of it went to waste the second his eyes fell on her as he passed her house. The way she descended down the stairs, a shining goddess in ivory, her silky blonde hair with her signature curls and falling gracefully down her back, is enough to make him realize that he could have been gone for centuries, and the sight alone would have brought him right back to where he started; picking up the pieces of Taylor Alison Swift and putting her back together.

The only difference, James notes, as he slides into the driver's seat of his father's car, is that this time, he's the reason she's even in pieces to begin with. Or so he likes to think. Maybe then, he can kid himself into believing she ever felt something that resembled true love or affection towards him. Just maybe. Maybe he was the bad guy in this story.

"James, I-" slurs the blonde lazily from the porch of her house, her perky, pale face conveying so much emotion and at the same time, nothing.

"Bets... I'm sor-," he answers before being cut off completely..

"James!" she repeats. Glancing up at from the floor, he sees that signature, blue eyed stare she would pull on any argument they had in the past. He turns away rapidly, pressing rather harshly on the cobblestone path below, eyes transfixed on the road before him. He ignores her. Or rather, keep his focus off of her, but to no avail.

"Why are you ignoring me?" inquires Taylor, voice tiny and crestfallen, as if the idea of James not wanting anything to do with her was so difficult to comprehend and accept.

"I'm not ignoring you," James answers curtly.

"Then talk to me," the blonde demands, her tangled locks flipping ever so slightly, crossing her arms defiantly.

Purposely ignoring Taylor's request, he turns the heel of his sneakers slightly to the right, making his way onto the highway. He misses the vast, empty surroundings of West Reading, Pennsylvania. As tedious as it may be, there's something about the lack of commotion that makes him feel alive, makes him feel iridescent, as if his secret love for dance and for life can outshine a city such as this. Of course, that's before he exchanged his loving relationship for leather loafers, a tie and a desperate one-night stand. Before he sold his soul to family expectations. Before he lost his heart not just to Taylor or Augustine, but to the reality that neither of them nor the rest of the world would love him, if he doesn't abide to his wishes.