Recluse

Chapter 41

"Hi." Why is that the only thing that comes out of my mouth?

I try to hold onto my rage from mere minutes ago, but it's practically impossible when he turns around and looks at me. It hasn't been too terribly long since I last saw him, but it feels like so long ago.

The bruise above is eye is still unpleasant looking, but has noticeably begun to fade. His eyes are still his eyes: intoxicating as always. His brown hair is ruffled in a messily yet extremely sexy way. I keep my eyes on his face instead of on his mutilated hands or prosthetic leg.

"Madi... What are you doing here?" He asks quietly. I can't read his emotion, or even his tone. He is completely guarded off, similar to the first days we met.

Angry, Madi, be angry.

"No. You don't get to ask me questions until I ask you the obvious one: where the fuck were you yesterday?" I'm surprised at the confidence that resonates from me. It's the exact opposite of how I feel.

He shakes his head, closing his eyes. He looks exhausted, "Please just go."

"No. You told me to meet you here yesterday. You told me you were still in love with me. You told me we were going to start meeting up every once in a while and writing letters, until I'm in college when we can be together. And then you stood me up. I don't get any of it."

"I know I did." He says simply, a hint of sadness in his voice. He doesn't look at me, he just looks at the ground.

"Niall. I'm done with your secrets. You explain it all right now, or you'll never see me again. This will be it." I snap dryly. As the words leave my mouth, a wave of anxiety hits me. I'm not really ready to deal with the heartbreak that will come from the thought of never seeing him again.

"Did you even read the letter? It's absolutely ridiculous. The second I sent it I regretted it."

My heart drops, "Y-you regretted it?" Fuck. Way to make a girl feel great about herself.

His eyes having a pleading look in them, "Madison... I meant everything I said in that letter. You know that. I just regretted sending it to you."

I take a few cautious steps forward and sit beside him in the grass. He tenses up at being so close to me, but doesn't move away

"Why did you regret sending it to me?" I ask quietly, looking straight ahead instead of at him. I'm afraid that tears will grip me if I look at him, and the last thing I want is to cry right now.

"Because we can't date like that... Constantly writing letters that take weeks to send. Meeting up in a cemetery every once in a while. Dying to be together but not quite being able to. Do you realize how hard it would be to only see each other every once in a while? I don't know how I'd be able to walk away from you every time. And how is this ever going to work out with your mom hating me and bribing me to leave town? Even if we dated when you're in college, you'd never be able to tell her. She'd never let it happen." I feel his eyes on me, but I still can't look at him. I just can't.

"So... what now then?" I ask, voice beginning to quiver.

"I don't know."

We sit in a sad silence, side by side but not touching, not even looking at each other. My heart feels like a crumpled up piece of paper. The sad thing is, I can't find a way to argue with him. Because he's pretty much right.

I don't think before saying this: "A couple minutes ago, I almost had sex with Zayn in his car just in the hope that you'd talk to me."

"I really wish you didn't tell me that." He groans, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "I don't like picturing you with him."