Romeo & Juliet - 5SOS // Ashton Irwin (Book 2)

But

I was finishing closing up the diner, my employees having left at least half an hour prior. The bell above the door rang and I called out as I untied my apron, not bothering to look to see who it was, "We're closed, I'm sor-"

I cut myself off, seeing Elliot standing before the door, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. His brown hair was matted down by the rain that had been falling outside the safety of the diner. He looked tired, exhausted really. His typically proper posture was ruined by the slouch that dragged down his shoulders. Elliot spoke quietly as if I was a scared animal that would run off at any sudden moves, "Hey."

I said nothing, dropping my apron on the counter. I kept my eyes trained on him, waiting for him to say more.

He seemed to get the message as he took a shaky breath in, muttering, "Okay," before moving to stand across from me, the counter between us. He continued after a momentary pause, "I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. I was in the wrong and I had no right to talk to you the way I did last night. I respect you so much, but I didn't act like it yesterday and I have no idea how to make it up to you."

"Well, the apology wasn't a bad start," I reasoned, still angry but not enough to act unreasonably.

He sighed, dropping down onto a barstool, letting his face fall into his hands. I hesitated before moving from behind the counter to sit in the barstool beside him. He lifted his head, looking over at me, solemn expression.

"You know that I love you, right?" He asked, finally fully meeting my eyes. I broke eye contact first, staring at my hands that rested on the countertop.

"Sometimes I do," I whispered, "but sometimes isn't enough. I shouldn't have to settle for that. Not when..."

"When there's someone who you always know loves you?" Elliot asked, making me lift my head to look at him. He didn't say it bitterly or with anger but rather like he had given up.

I opened my mouth to argue against the statement, but as I heard it I realized there was some truth to it. With Ashton, I had always been sure about us, about how much we cared for one another. With Elliot it was like a rubix cube that someone rearranged every time you finally solved the puzzle.

"Do you still love him?" Elliot asked, tears swimming in his eyes. I wanted to hug him and let him cry on my shoulder because I cared deeply for him but knew that I shouldn't.

I hesitated, not because I had to think about the answer, but because I had to think about how to tell him. I knew that I still loved Ashton. There was no doubt in my mind, there never had been. Even when he was gone on tour and Elliot and I's relationship was going well, I still loved him. I had hoped that when he returned he would be less amazing than I remembered him to be, that maybe I had idealized him in his absence. I wanted him to be average, for him not to give me butterflies in my stomach when he laughed or smiled at me. I desperately wished that he would suddenly be selfish and annoying and arrogant when he returned but he wasn't. He was every bit as loving and patient and loyal as he had been before if not more. I loved him and he loved me. Sometimes that was the only thing I was sure of.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Do you love me?"

I answered quicker that time, having expected that question, "Yes."

"But?" He asked, making me tilt my head to the side, silently showing my lack of understanding, "This is the part where the girl says 'but' and tells the guy why she is leaving him for the other guy."

"I-" I began trying to protest, but the words were caught in my throat. Instead I took another approach, "Close your eyes and imagine something for me."

Elliot gave me a strange look but after a few convincing words, he shut his eyes and sighed heavily, allowing me to continue, "It's twenty years in the future. You're in your forties, happily married with kids. You sit down on the couch in your living room in front of the TV to watch your favorite movie for what seems like the millionth time. Your wife is sat beside you, the pair of you as happy together as the day you got married. Who's the woman beside you?" His eyes opened at my question, meeting my eyes. Elliot didn't answer my question, just staring at me for a few moments, "Is it me?"

Elliot shook his head, giving no indication that he intended on telling me who it truly was. I figured that was fair, considering. When at last he did speak, he said, "For you, is it Ashton?"

I grinned, laughing quietly, "Yeah, in twenty years I imagine Ashton being my wife."

He grinned, playfully nudging me, "You know what I mean."

I let the smile on my face fall from my lips, answering, "When I'm 40 and old and raising a couple of hell-raisers... Ashton's the only person I can imagine doing all that with."

There was silence, both of us knowing what had just happened. I stared at him, letting the moments tick by. I almost believed that if neither of us said anything, we wouldn't have to admit what had just occurred.

He spoke first, quietly saying, "We just broke up, didn't we?"

Instead of responding verbally at first I instead wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a hug. I whispered quietly, "I love you," to which he returned, "Yeah, I love you too."

I pulled away a bit so I could see his face. Elliot looked sad, as expected, but also almost relieved, at peace. I said softly, "We were never going to work, Elliot."

He nodded his head, "I think I knew that."

I smiled lightly before laughing just a bit. He smiled, furrowing his eyebrows. Elliot asked, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I giggled, "Just look at us handling this like mature adults."

Elliot began to laugh a bit too. Then we began to laugh harder and harder together, clutching our stomachs and gasping for air. Nothing was particularly funny, but I've found that when some people are sad or upset, just about anything will make them laugh.

As our laughter died down, I leaned my head on my hand and he did the same, both of our elbows propped up on the counter. He looked over at me, smiling supportively, "Go after him," I tilted my head to the side, confused, "And don't let him go this time, Juliet."

I smiled back at him, "You're kind of great."

He sighed heavily, "I know," he groaned jokingly as if his generosity was such a heavy burden. Then, seriously, he repeated himself, "Go."

And I did. Elliot and I walked out the diner doors before going our separate ways, him toward his apartment and myself toward Ashton's.