dedicated to @sandpit-_-turtle bc she's the best and i love her<33


I've been staring at my phone for the last two hours, and I'm not even ashamed to admit that I've been anticipating a text from Eleanor the whole time.

I roll around in my bed again as I watch the light from my phone slowly dim out. Then I unlock it again, and wait for a few more minutes before finally rolling my eyes and telling myself that she wouldn't text me.

I could be such a girl sometimes, god damn it.

I put the phone on my nightstand and stare up at my ceiling in defeat. It's not long until my eyelids finally start to droop, and with the thought that Eleanor will never text me, I let sleep consume me entirely.

The blizzard was starting to get worse. Veronica was on her phone texting her boyfriend, and mom was talking to dad, and dad was nodding and smiling. Everything was going fine, until the tension in the car grew as dad tried to desperately focus on the road.

Visibility was nearing to a zero, and amidst the flurries of snow, I saw a light, and heard screams, and then it all became black.

I wake up, startled. I'm sweating and breathing hard and nervous. I rake my hand through my hair and focus on levelling my breath. It was the same nightmare I've been having ever since the accident. My doctor said it was post traumatic stress, and that I'd eventually grow out of it. But I'm seventeen already, and my nightmares are still reoccurring and I just can't make them stop.

God damn it, Luke. Get your shit together, I think. I immediately feel the urge to check my phone-well, mostly to check if Eleanor had texted me.

And holy shit.

She did.

I save her number and read her text, a smile growing on my face.

<From Eleanor> Heyyyyyy c: I'm sorry i took so long to text you. I just didnt know what to say and i still have no idea what to say now. Youre probably sleeping anyway so hiiiiiiii

She is such a dork sometimes. My fingers rapidly type in a reply.

<To Eleanor> um hi. I just woke up, and i don't know what to say either, but we're both awake and i guess we could talk about anything or everything rn if u want

It's funny how a simple text could bring so much joy to me in the middle of the night. I rarely find happiness anymore, and Eleanor provides me enough to make me content with what I have right now. She's so different from everybody else-she reaches for the stars. And I know how badly I want to be one.

My phone vibrates in my hand. I take a deep breath and open her message.

<From Eleanor> let's talk about your paintings. why do you paint, luke?

I breathe out slowly.

<To Eleanor> to explain things im unable to verbally. To seek happiness. To find myself. To express my emotions

<From Eleanor> and when you paint, you achieve all of those all at once?

I think about my paintings of her. I think about how much I smile whenever I trace my fingers over the rough canvas. I think about how much I feel the longing in the brush strokes and the shadings. I think about how much I love Eleanor.

<To Eleanor> yeah, i do. I really do.


✿✿✿


"I'm going to make the assumption that you're sleep deprived," Mr. Dixon says, his head dipping to take a good look at my sleeplessness-riddled face.

I lazily run my pencil on my notebook. No kidding.

Mr. Dixon sits beside me and tucks his hands into the pockets of his khakis. "Did your nightmares keep you up again, Luke?"

I shake my head vigorously. I spent all night talking to Eleanor.

I watch as Mr. Dixon's eyes widen in surprise. "That's great, Luke! What did you guys talk about?"

Things you don't necessarily talk about at 3am. A small smile makes its way onto my face as I think about our late-night conversation. We talked about absolutely everything that came to mind-the universe, how little we are, and the possibility of the universe fitting in the compasses of our hands.

Mr. Dixon places a hand on my back. "This is great, Luke. I'm really happy for you. I want what's best for you, and if you think Eleanor is, then chase that butterfly of a dream. Capture it. If all your happiness is equivalent to a girl who speaks like the stars, go for it."

Thanks Mr. Dixon. You're the closest I've ever had to a father figure, and I really appreciate you spending time with me, I hastily write before exiting the classroom.


a/n:

rlly short and lame sigh im having a severe case of writer's block and idk when the next update will be hahA

and im rlly sad and disappointed with life atm so yeah i just want to cry and watch the big bang theory all day bye

luv u all so much -angelika

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