Stop. And Go

XVIII •(Savior Complex)•

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        Sneaking out of Julian's apartment had been easier than Madeline expected it to be. Julian had carried on the night drinking until he passed out.

Since the night Julian confessed that he'd broken 'the rule,' another weekend had come to pass with no contact.

She avoided going home at all costs, and pretended to be asleep whenever the phone would ring. She would sneak out of the apartment after Gloria and Tina left each morning. She'd taken on more hours at work—and found a doctor that had no records of her prior history.

It was easy, and the way Madeline felt when medicated, (sedated) made her question why she hadn't done it sooner.

        At least, that was until the desolation on her pathetic youth unexpectedly trudged into her work on a Wednesday afternoon.

         Under the influence of downers made everything in Madeline's life seem insignificant. All of her worries rested on a weightless cloud made up of absolute bliss.

It gave her a feeling she secretly yearned—a feeling that only Julian had ever been able to give her.

But watching him amble over self-consciously, Madeline knew there wasn't a drug in the world that could make her feel the way Julian could.

          She questioned how long she'd been staring up at him as he stood before her—watching his brows furrow over his worried eyes as his teeth sank into his lip.

Finding her voice, Madeline greeted him softly, "Hey."

"Hey," Julian replied in equal volume. Staring back a little longer, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What're you on right now?"

        Since school had become most of her life in the last year, Madeline answered as if in class, "The fourth Crusade... capture of Constantinople."

It took a moment for Julian to process what Madeline said; but then a sudden chuckle shook his chest before a flicker of amusement crossed his face, "No, I mean what drugs are you on... benzos?"

"You want some?"

"No," his softly saddened eyes shifted to his feet, slowly raising back to her again. "I want you to talk to me."

        If Julian had wanted to sneak off to the bathroom for a quickie, Madeline would've obliged; if he'd wanted her to ditch work to get high in the alley, she would've went without question; if he'd wanted to throw rocks off the overpass into the East Hudson River, she would've gone looking for stones.

But instead, Julian wanted to talk.

The problem with talking, however, was that Madeline was high. It wasn't just the fear of saying something she shouldn't say, it was the terror of the unknown—the inability to hide how she felt.

        "Napoleon basically invented the ideology of French Nationalism after the Revolution... but he was mostly Italian. The guy was a poser."

"The fuck'd that come from?"

"Political science class. You want me to talk to you, so I'm talking."

           "C'mere," Julian said as he grabbed Madeline's arm, dragging her by the elbow toward the back of the store.

She thought about crying out as if he'd hurt her, but the thought of teasing him right now seemed a little too cruel.

She nearly laughed at his attempt to manhandle her. He was too gentle—even when he was pissed at her.

         Julian huffed, "I'm just gonna come out with it—"

"I already know- you're too good in bed to be straight. I've also seen the way you kiss other guys."

There was no laugh—not even the faintness of a smile, "Are you in love with me?" 

        Gazing into his eyes, Madeline suddenly felt weak. Her heart grew cold as it started to beat faster, pumping frigid blood throughout her veins.

Despite being high, she wasn't high enough—not to answer that question.

        Julian leaned to Madeline's ear, "I've been tryin to get a hold of you for over a week now. You said we'd talk about it... you promised- you made me promise."

Letting go a shaky breath, she spoke feebly, "You said that it was just sex- that it wouldn't change things... that we've known each other too long."

        "For fuck's sake, Mads- it didn't change anything," Julian looked around them as he reeled back the harshness of his tone. "I was in love with you before we even did anything. It was wrong- I shoulda talked to you about it after the first time but I didn't wanna scare y'off."

Perhaps she should've feared saying something she shouldn't have said more than exposing the way that she felt about it.

...about him.

Things had changed—whether Julian dared to admit it or not.

Madeline had changed—she was no longer the girl he once knew, but instead a woman pathetically in love with a man too stupid to realize she was too fragile to take on another tragedy.

        "Why do you want me to say it back? Is it to fill your savior complex—make me your mission accomplished?" Madeline asked with a nonchalant tone as she picked at a sticker stuck to the metal shelf of the storage rack.

"What?"

She shrugged, "You wanna coddle me a little longer before you slip away, right? You wanna pity me a while... but be afraid that one wrong step'll set me off... that I'll go insane? You wanna ease my trauma, but then turn around and remind me that it wasn't even your fault?"

"Wha- no!"

"You don't love me, Jules," Madeline stepped forward, finally raising her eyes to his, "you can't... no one can."

        Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stepped around him, heading back to the front of the store.

Julian followed her to the counter, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he shook his head with a shrug, "So you don't love me."

        The vision of him began to blur as her eyes started to fill with tears. Not even a cocktail of opiates and benzodiazepines could mask how painfully obvious the answer should've been.

With a quivering chin, her voice quaked, "Will you go away if I give you the answer?"

With despondent eyes, Julian flashed a mournful smile, "You just did."

         She had wanted to know before surrendering the admission. She was too stubborn to give him the truth without at least the false promise that he wouldn't leave her once he came to the same realization—that no one could really love her.

Madeline hadn't considered Julian to misconstrue that she'd meant after they crossed the bridge—not while standing on the other side of it.

But because space and time felt irrelevant in her drug induced state, she was unable to elaborate.

By the time Madeline had started to, Julian was already gone.

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• (A/N) •
There's only one more completed chapter after this one.
I didn't feel like writing for a couple weeks and hit a snag.
I'm gonna try to catch up, but wanna let everyone know the schedule may be a little... different; probably no more Thursday and Sunday
I'll try to update each time I finish a chapter from here on out (after Thursday) according to the outline there's only about 3-4 chapters left.
Thank you guys so much for reading, I really appreciate it
❤️❤️❤️