the spaces between

call

she hated that she almost cried again just hearing her name like that.

"it's fine," she lied, trying for a smile and failing. "i just—needed to breathe."

his eyes softened in that way that always made her feel both safe and seen. "wish i was there."

isa swallowed hard. "me too."

silence stretched, heavy but not empty. she wanted to fill it with something, anything. her gaze dropped to the small wooden piano in the corner of the chapel—a forgotten thing, tucked against the wall like no one remembered it was there.

"hang on," she said, moving the phone so matt could see as she crossed the room.

"what are you doing?" he asked, voice laced with curiosity.

she ran her fingers over the keys, the cool ivory sending a shiver through her. "this," she whispered, pressing one softly. the note rang out, pure and lonely.

isa sank onto the bench, balancing the phone so matt could watch. "it's out of tune," she muttered, "but..."

she played a simple progression—soft, broken chords that didn't need to be perfect. the sound filled the chapel, fragile but real.

matt leaned closer to the camera, his expression unreadable. "isa..."

"don't say anything," she whispered, because if he did, she might shatter.

her fingers moved on instinct, finding something slow and aching. not a full song—just pieces. verses she'd written in her notebook, fragments that had no home yet.

i know better than cold goodbyes... but i still make believe them sometimes...

her voice was barely there, just enough for him to hear.

when she stopped, the silence roared louder than the music.

"that was..." matt exhaled hard, like he'd been holding his breath. "isa, that—"

"don't." her throat burned. "i can't... i can't talk about it right now."

he didn't push. didn't even look away. just nodded slowly, like he understood in a way that made her chest ache even worse.

after a moment, she whispered, "matt?"

"yeah?"

"are you gonna leave?" the question slipped out before she could catch it. raw. terrified.

he blinked, stunned. "what?"

"you said you'd stay. on the phone earlier. you said—" her voice cracked, and she hated herself for it. "i just... i need to know if you meant it."

his face softened in a way that almost broke her completely. "isa." he leaned so close to the screen, like he wanted to reach through it. "i'm not going anywhere. okay? no matter what. you hear me?"

isa nodded, but the tears came anyway, hot and fast. she wiped them with the sleeve of matt's hoodie—the one she'd packed in her carry-on because she couldn't not bring it.

they didn't talk much after that. just sat there, the chapel filled with quiet breathing and the low hum of fluorescent lights.

somewhere in the silence, isa's body gave out again. head resting against the wooden wall, her phone propped on her lap, matt's voice still echoing in her ears even though the call had gone still.

matt stared at the dead screen like it had betrayed him. the call had dropped five minutes ago, isa's side going dark when her phone died or maybe she fell asleep, and now he was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands, feeling like the walls were closing in.

practice, homework, life—all of it felt like static. pointless noise. all he wanted was to get on a plane and be where she was, because the picture of her in that empty chapel was carved into his brain and it wouldn't leave.

and the way she'd asked—are you gonna leave?—that ripped him open. because how could she not know by now? how could she not feel how deep she'd gotten under his skin?

he thought about the sound of her voice when she sang, soft and breaking, like a secret only he was allowed to hear. it made him want to protect her and hold her and maybe never let go.

but he couldn't protect her from this.

and that killed him more than anything.

he lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, fists clenched. his mind spun with worst-case scenarios, each one darker than the last, and for the first time in a long time, matt felt small. powerless.

his phone buzzed with nick's text—you good?—and he ignored it. because no, he wasn't. he didn't know when he would be again.

he opened their last photo together, the one he'd taken at the open mic when she wasn't looking, her head tilted, eyes down, that soft half-smile tugging at her lips.

and he whispered to the empty room, "please come back to me."

sunlight slanted through the blinds when isa woke, her neck aching from the hard bench. her phone was dead, but the last thing she remembered was matt's voice, low and steady, wrapping around her like a shield.

emilia was stable—still fragile, still too pale, but alive. that was all isa could hold onto.

her mom brought coffee, josé cracked a joke to make her smile, and for a second, isa let herself believe maybe it would be okay.

then she plugged in her phone.

ten missed calls. twelve texts. all from matt.

she stared at the screen, a lump rising in her throat, before tapping the camera icon.

he answered in two seconds flat.

"isa?" his voice was rough, like he hadn't slept.

"hey," she whispered. "sorry. phone died."

he exhaled, and she swore she could feel it across the ocean.

"don't do that to me again," he said, half-teasing, but his eyes gave him away.

isa smiled—tiny, but real. "i won't."

and for the first time since this whole thing started, she almost believed him when he said, you're not alone.

- chlo speaks! 

i learned french for you </3 

pleaaase dont be a dry reader!