The Internship

Chapter Forty-One

A/N We're reaching the end of this story....I'm getting very sad

I didn't mean to fall asleep. I sat in the bed of the room we had been sharing for hours, my hands shaking, my head pounding, but my eyes dry. Not once did I cry. 

The last time I looked at the clock it read 2am, and the next time I checked it read 9am. I stumbled out of bed, throwing on sweatpants and tripping over shoes that were beside the bed. As I stood yet again, I noticed something was different. About the room, the atmosphere, the feeling all together. 

I looked around for several moments before I realized. All of his things were gone. A quick check of the closet and drawers was all the confirmation I needed. I cursed myself as I slammed the closet door, for what reason specifically was unknown. I was just angry. At myself for burning the letter, for not waking when he obviously came back in the middle of the night, and for never once considering his feelings as I used the only solution I deemed worthy.

I ran down the stairs and into the dining room where my parents were going through old mail.

"Do you know anything?!" I asked frantically. The second my mother's eyes fell onto me, I felt disgusted by myself. She was disappointed.

"No, we don't," my father answered.

My mom took a deep breath before she spoke up. "Yes...I do. He left, as he should've. If you want to know anything, you won't find out through him. Call some girl named Kirstin."

"Thank you!" I called as I ran back upstairs where my phone was waiting on the bed.

There were only a few rings before Kirstie's voice flooded through the phone and into my ears. "He's alright and with me. Can I hang up now?"

"Can I talk to him?"

"No."

"KK, come on."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm not. I just want to talk to him."

"It's not happening and I don't need to explain why."

"I'm coming home, probably today, will you let me in if I come to see him?"

"No."

"My God Kirst, stop being such a bitch!"

She scoffed. "I don't even need to confront you on your words and actions. This is me protecting my friend from a monster who he really loved."

"Loved?"

"I don't think there's much love left. Almost like it was burned."

The reference hurt, and she knew it. "Just---is he okay, really?"

"I'm sure you can guess how well he's doing. Merry Christmas, asshole."

And for the first time since the event, I cried, beating myself up mentally, and hoping that something would work in my favor.

-----

I rushed into my apartment to take a quick shower before I planned to try my luck at Kirstie's. I most definitely didn't expect her to be sitting at my kitchen table folding clothes, and felt the shock being represented on my face. 

"What are you? What is---"

"I'm packing his stuff. This is the last box, we've been at it all day."

I blinked a few times before speaking. "Wha---why?"

"Because he's moving out, idiot." I would've gotten here sooner if my flight hadn't been delayed for storms. I could've saved us.

"Why?"

"Do you have a brain?"

"Is he here?"

"Your room."

I dropped my bags and ran into my room, wishing that I'd given myself some time to think once I saw  him. He sat on the edge of our bed, staring at the wall, tears streaming slowly down his cheeks.

He didn't even look away from the wall, but somehow knew it was me. "Don't turn on the light," he said, and I barely recognized his voice.

"It's dark."

"Glad you have eyes. I just wish you had a heart, too."

"Mitch..."

I moved across the room and sat next to him. I tried to hold his hand, but he jerked away from my touch. I sat feeling embarrassed and rejected. 

I didn't dare speak so I let my eyes drift to the wall as well, finding it surprisingly more interesting than I expected. I don't even know how much time passed before I found his voice filling the silence.

"Do you still love me?"

"What? Mitch, of course." He didn't respond. "Do you love me?"

"I don't think so."

It hurt.

"Let me try to fix it then. Please, I---"

"I'm moving out, Scott. I'm getting worse. My therapist said I needed a sign of commitment, of forever. And then you do this."

"No, no I can do forever. I was going to propose in Paris. I had plans, I---I knew what I was going to do. I can do forever, I can."

"But I can't."

"I don't want you to walk away. I don't know how to lose you."

I could feel his eyes on me so I turned around to face him.

"I'm going to go now," he whispered, "Please let me."

There was something about the rawness, the pain, and the somewhat desperation in his voice that had me nodding.

"Okay."

He smiled, and even if it didn't reach his eyes, I respected his strength in trying.

He stood and exited the room, and I caught a glimpse of Kirstie waiting for him, and hugging him before they both left.

I sat in my bed, unsure of what to do, before I found myself running. It was as if my legs were not connected to my mind as I sprinted down the stairs and into my apartment complex's parking lot.

I saw Kirstie's car driving away and pulled everything within me as I followed onto the street. I wiped at my eyes as the rain blinded me. I was too afraid to admit that it could've been my tears, too.

"Wait, please wait!" I cried. "Please!"

The car, to my surprise, stopped, and a very confused Mitch emerged. 

He walked to me, his clothes becoming as wet as mine due to the downpour.

"What? He asked.

I didn't respond as I filled the rest of the space between us and pressed my lips to his. I picked him up and wrapped his legs around my waist, my arms securely around his.

He didn't fight off the kiss, and I most definitely didn't either. It was full of everything we felt. Fear, pain, sadness. I gave him everything I had left, being smart enough to know that this was most likely our last kiss.

I put him down eventually and wiped his cheeks, even if it was pointless because of the rain.

"I'll let you go now. I'll let you go."

He nodded and wrapped his arms around me, and we hugged, in the middle of the rain and street, not caring about anything else.

"I love you," I said.

"I know."

He kissed me once more, softly, before walking away. I watched until Kirstie's car was a small dot in the distance.

I didn't know if I would ever recover.