If I Stay✔️

79

—

Charlie squeezes my shoulder, pulling back from our comforting hug as a knock echos around the room.

"If this is too much and you need her to leave, just say the word and I'll be here. Okay?" His voice is laced with nerves, as if he's just as anxious about this as I am.

"I'll be okay," I reassure him, my words lacking a little conviction. "It's now or never, Char. I told you, I have to do this."

"I know you do." He looks at my face, looking for what? I'm not so sure. "I believe in you." He takes a step back, footsteps slow as he walks towards the door. "You've got this."

As Charlie's hand curves around the door handle, I take a breath and whisper those words back to myself. "You've got this."

"Leo?" Her soft, melodic voice filters through the air and only now do I realise how much I've missed it — missed her.

My eyes travel from my hands to her face, taking in the dark circles beneath her eyes and nervous smile on her cracked lips — taking in all the tiredness and anxiety I've no doubt caused.

You've got this.

My words get locked in my throat as the guilt slams back into me like a tidal wave in full force, crushing me in the swell, allowing it's harsh current to drag me back under and drown me once more.

You've got this.

Breathe, just breathe.

I take a breath, and another, and another, taking as many as I need until I can regain my senses and push past my negative feelings.

You've got this.

I fight — I fucking fight — as hard as I can and take control of my own mind, focusing my attention on her, on now, on the freedom I'll feel when I finally let these feelings fill the distance between us. I've got this.

"Lily," I breathe out, my lips lifting of their own accord. "You came."

She smiles at me. It's not sad, it's not pained, it's not forced. It's real. "Of course I did," her smile only grows. "I'm so happy you asked for me." She takes a step closer and I don't recoil as her arms reach out to me.

Our hug is short and sweet, yet filled with so much hope that my legs almost give way from under me.

"I missed you." I tell her, honestly.

"I miss you."

My lips twist at her words. I miss you, not missed. I try to pick apart the meaning, to think of what she could still miss about the boy she thought I still was. I try — with everything I have — to think of something to say in response, but my brain turns to mush and every thought feels like a cliché; how can you miss something that's never been?

"Why don't we take a walk?" Lily suggests, lips thinned as she twists her fingers together, almost as if she's afraid I'll retreat at her words.

"Yeah," I nod, voice a whisper. "A walk."

—

The air is warm against my cheeks, May twisting into June as less clouds fill the sky, showing that summer is fast approaching. I exhale softly and tilt my head back, allowing the sun beams to dance across my skin as I do everything I can to avoid eye contact with my sister.