Story 3 | I hope It's Nice
Regret, rage, refusal.
They were the notes of a sad song, being played for days on end.
Her house of dreams stood in solemn silence, holding her captive in the center of its cold embrace. She couldn't remember how many hours or days she'd spent sitting on the floor, unmoving. But the stillness wasn't haunting. The restless strum of her bruised fingers against the cold strings coaxed forth melancholic melodies that hung heavy in the air. Her guitar was nestled comfortably in her lap. At least she knew she was still alive.
Regret, rage, resentment. It was on repeat again, with some minor changes in hopes of making a difference.
He wasn't here to witness it, so she assumed it wouldn't be any different. It was still the same sad song it used to be moments ago.
Y/N closed her eyes and sighed, her hand coming to a stop. Now that the room was fully silent, she could almost hear faint echoes of laughters, arguments, and never-ending conversations bouncing off the walls. And that was what she had tried to avoid by playing nonstop. That was what she didn't want to hear anymore. But his voice was everywhere, and his memories didn't want to leave.
They had to learn from him. It wasn't that hard for him to leave.
Her fingers almost caressed against the cold strings, but then her eyes settled on the glaring flames of the fireplace and she knew that she was too tired to continue. Sooner or later she had to face the reality. When she wasn't drawing sad songs out of her guitar, she had to recall all the questions that desperately sought to find an answer in her head.
And she finally let that happen, knowing that there was no convincing answer.
As if on cue, a throbbing pain spread over her back, shooting through the tense muscles of her shoulder. It felt like she hadn't moved for years. Her head hung low, eyes staring at the wooden surface of her guitar which was illuminated by the crackling fire. The questions didn't hesitate to rush to her mind from different corners, only adding to the pain.
Why did he go?
How could it all have ended like this?
Why did he have to end it at all?
She shook her head. All she knew was that she didn't know how to be something he would miss. All she knew was that she had turned into a prisoner, trapped in a place she used to call home. Now it was a prison, suffocating its only resident by thoughts and regrets and loneliness and confusion. She also knew that he wouldn't visit that prison ever again.
And that was it. No more, no less.
She used to think that they were in the middle of a new, sacred chapter in life. A chapter that was full of fond memories, careless laughters, late night talkings, unbreakable promises. A chapter that would never come to an unexpected end. Then how could he have filled years of unwritten stories with one last kiss?
He'd told her he loved her. So what made him go like this?
For days, she was paralyzed and in a state of disbelief, sitting alone and looking back at all the steps she'd taken in life, trying to find one slip-up that made everything go wrong. For days, pages were white and blank and uncertain, pining for the possibility of him returning and saying it was a silly game. A stupid joke just to test her.
But no. His leaving was the final closure.
Days turned into months.
And the lack of reasons made it all worse.
Because everything used to be promising, full of love, and flawed in a perfect way.
Everything was right, until it wasn't.
That day was clear as day before her eyes. She could almost hear the muffled voices and ghostly figures of faceless figures wandering about on the creaky floorboard behind her, sending cold shivers rippling through her.
"... we should paint the walls for next year," She walked inside the room and placed the boxes on the table, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes scanned the whitewashed walls, fingertips tapping on her chin as she envisioned possible colours of her choice. "blue, I guess blue works just fine for the rooms. What do you think-?"
She turned with a grin as his footsteps echoed in the hallway. He was standing by the doorway, arms crossed and avoiding her gaze.
"...I, I think that we're over."
Y/N's joyful expression fell in an instant, disbelief washing over her. She didn't want to believe that she's heard it right.
Her feet froze in spot, staring into his indecipherable eyes as her head became clouded with the words she'd told him all those months ago. "I don't want you to promise me forever. Just promise to tell me the moment there's no love left for me in your heart." She had to brace herself for the day she was almost sure would never come. It still stung. It still tasted bitterly.
The air became thick with pent-up emotions. Rage, regret, refusal. All were flooding into her like turbulent rivers.
She broke down. He didn't even flinch.
If his words were the dagger, the pure iciness in his expression was what pushed it into her soul and twisted, leaving a gaping hole for all of her sorrows to pour out.
Her vision was blurred by incredulous, burning tears. She shook her head in disbelief, sliding down the nearest wall when her knees gave in to sobs of shock that were bubbling in her throat. It was weakening. There had to be a reason. "Why, just why?"
She asked silently, matching the impending silence of his nonexistent answer.
He said nothing. It was paining him too.
Of course it had be to painful, only because that usually confident man with his witty remarks now had no explanation that could ever convince her. He could come up with one too many reasons, but he already knew none of them could make sense.
It was just the way it was, insensitive, unexplainable.
She knew him like the back of her hand. She knew how that distant look had taken the place of his usually cheerful mood. It had been there for some time, and she should've seen it coming, but she kept on pretending everything would be right again. She kept on trying her best to love him. It hadn't worked. They were sick and done for a long time, he just didn't have the willpower to admit it out loud. Until now.
But it didn't hurt any less. She couldn't bring herself believe in anything anymore. She couldn't understand that stranger in front of her anymore.
"Are you not going to argue? Blame me or- or even shout? I, I deserve far worse than your silence."
So he knew how hurtful the lack of words could be.
She lifted her head up, glaring at him with a buried fire that threatened to burn right through him. He had already made his decision. How could she fight it? How could she keep someone who was long gone? No amount of arguing and shouting could help.
"I would do whatever it takes if you had left and ounce of hope for us, for this... But would any of that stop you from going?"
His head hung low as a weak "No" slipped past his lips. It was barely audible, but she heard it and her chest tightened up a little more.
The ship had already sunken.
She stared blankly at somewhere in the space, too taken aback by the change of events to notice his actions as he knelt down in front of her and whispered words of "I'm sorry" along with a few more, about a hundred times, wrapping her paralyzed body into a hug. He knew she was still full of love for him. He knew she wouldn't protest and deny his embrace even though his quietness was infuriating her more and more with each passing second. Her mind was yelling at her to knock some sense into her actions. So when he pulled her into a kiss, it finally dawned on her.
He didn't love her anymore.
Whatever the reason was, it didn't matter anymore.
In that moment, she wished she could disappear beneath the ground or vanish into thin air, just to never come back to the same world where he lived in. There was so much love in her bleeding heart that she couldn't stand his stabbing presence anymore.
She pressed her trembling palms against his chest, pushing him back with the little force that was left in her muscles.
The sound of her ring clattering to the floor wafted through the air sooner than her shaky voice.
"There's just- you don't belong here anymore. Just go..." She said and pointed at her aching chest before turning her back on him, resting her head against the wall.
It had to be blue. The whole house needed that colour.
He stood there for a short while, gaze fixated on the ring that lay abandoned on the floor. He then walked out as quietly as possible, leaving a trail of guilt and shame and void in his wake. Tears freely scrolled down her cheeks when the door clicked shut.
And that was pretty much the end of it.
He was like a leaf to the wind. Like a sandcastle to the waves. Like a passenger to the cabs. Ready to be taken away.
He did nothing more, said nothing more, and lost nothing at all.
A part of her always regretted ever asking for explanations, because it didn't matter what, or who, had decided to take him away. Somewhere in space and time he had a tiny chance to fight it. He had a chance to talk it out or try harder for their love, but all he'd done was to trample on it before walking away. And she knew she wasn't a fighter for fights that were already lost.
In that moment, those words had caught her off guard. And it wasn't fair to turn the house of their dreams into a battleground. The war itself wasn't fair either. It had ended before giving her a moment to prepare.
So she sat there and slowly mingled with the hard, solid texture of the walls that surrounded her, watching him pack his bag and go out of the prison he'd built for her.
Now part of him was gone. The other part still haunted her. His shirt hung loosely around her body. His woodsy scent engulfed her senses. His name imprinted itself on her lips. His laughters echoed in her ears.
And she didn't want any of it any more.
She didn't want to think about how his touch had healed her soul and how his wound had tore her apart. It was enough. She didn't want to relive the memories anymore, and something inside her reassured her that this was the last time.
A long sigh escaped her as she lay down and tucked her hands beneath her head. She watched as the dim morning light filtered through the half-closed curtains, casting long shadows over the wooden floor. Dust particles floated lazily in the air, each of them mirroring the nostalgia and the romance that once existed around her.
Her thoughts involuntarily wandered back to how he'd attempted to kiss her even when she was too mad at him. Of course a kiss couldn't fix the ruins, but it pained her that it couldn't. It pained her that he did it out of habit. Because she used to like his rude interruptions. On any other day, if she was complaining, he would just casually lean over and silence her with the lingering touch of his lips, grinning from ear to ear when she blushed a deep shade of red and frowned playfully at him.
"What was I saying? It was important... you just interrupted me, rude boy!"
"You enjoyed it. That's all that matters."
Now she resented and regreted it. Because it didn't matter anymore.
It had taken days for her to realize that sometimes no amount of love was enough to keep a relationship from falling apart. It had taken her days to accept that there was no going back. But it was finally time.
The house became oddly tranquil when her fingers rested for a moment on her other wrist, and found no pulse in it. Her heart had just accepted that it didn't beat for him anymore. Maybe it wasn't too bad to relive the memories, with all the beauty and pain they held.
She swallowed heavily. No crying anymore.
The relief almost made Y/N forget that polaroids of him and his new life were still scattered on the floor around her. She'd kept up with their old friends just to ask them how he was. She'd gone from watching him sleep peacefully by her side to watching his new life in pictures. She'd gone from watching his slow breathing to feeling that each breath now made him forget a little more about her.
And it was fine now. He was happy. He smiled in pictures. She wasn't upset anymore. She didn't need to see him anymore.
So it didn't open an old wound when she sat upright, gathered the polaroids, and tossed them in the fireplace, watching as remnants of him burned and turned into ashes.
No more regret, no more rage, and no more refusal.
Drops of water were continuously dripping from the rooftop and drumming on the frozen ground, a tell-tale sign that piles of snow would soon melt and fade into nothing. She sat back and listened to their rhythmic downfall in peace. It seemed that the early sun was determined to wipe away any trace of that wild, freezing season. It was a harsh winter, in more ways than one. Some days, the lack of furniture in the house almost made it unbearably cold for her, but she was too numb to be bothered by anything.
She wondered how he had predicted the weather this time.
Back then, he used to impress everyone with his flawless and accurate forecasting talents. Hands in his pockets, confident swing of steps, triumphant smiles, quick answers. All of it could earn a playful roll of eyes from her, but a round of applause from others. Just one knowing look at the sky and he was ready to show off again.
"... Now tell me son, it's clear and sunny in the sky. How do you take this forecast challenge?" Her father asked him, taking a sip of his drink.
They were sitting in the patio, enjoying the cool afternoon breeze with a friendly conversation.
He sneaked a glance at her and raised a thoughtful brow, squinting his eyes and staring upward at they sky. When his eyes met hers again for a brief moment, his confident charming smile told her that he was more than ready to impress her father.
"Sun is a con these days. I'd say... we'll have to walk our way through piles of snow by next week."
She rolled her eyes, surpassing a delighted smile. Hopefully her warm cheeks hadn't blushed that much. How could he be so sure about his answers? It was almost irritating, and lovely.
Her father let out a deep chuckle and leaned over to pat his shoulder, nodding at him with a mixture of disbelief and amazement on his face. "No way! That's one confident guess. I'll take you at your word."
And to irritate her even more, he was right. They had to clear the path and shovel the thick blankets of snow off the road a week later.
She was not that good at predicting the weather, his weather, to be precise. She didn't know how the clouds could form a dark canopy in his mind and rain all the way down to his heart, destroying every inch of land that once belonged to her love, their love. She didn't know how the heavy droplets could beat on him louder than his heart used to beat for her.
Whenever he talked about love and whispered sweet nothings in her ears, she couldn't help but rest her head on his chest to listen to that impatient pounding of his heart. It was enough to convince her that flowers were blooming in that heart for her. But nothing ever convinced her that they all got destroyed and all was left in the end was a dry land. Now it was all acid rain, leading him to forget about the old emotions that once lived there.
No more flowers, no more racing heartbeats, no more love.
He could still plan for changes in weather, but she'd never planned on him changing his mind.
She sighed and stood on her feet, trudging her way towards the counter to call a taxi. She had to get ready. Weeks of grief and numbness had surely sealed her fate within those solid walls, but it was time to go. There was a world out there, waiting for her. She was leaving. She refused to stay prisoner in that haunting cell forever. She had a life out there. Even before him. Even after him.
She knelt down and picked her guitar, reminding herself of yet another memory with the two of them trapped in a reverie on an endless dream.
"This will be the last one." She promised herself.
The night was draped in a velvety darkness, the moon casting a soft glow over the sandy shores. They had been sitting there for a long time, watching as the waves crashed against the beach and mingled with the crackling campfire, flickering before their unmoving eyes.
The air carried with it the saulty scent of ocean. Its gentle breeze wafting through her hair as her fingers glided against the strings of the guitar to play another song. She had alreasy lost count, but the night was young and who was she to deny it when his warm eyes were burning through her.
Her friends slowly slipped from the logs around the fire and gave her gentle hugs before walking back inside the house, but all she could think of was how he stood up and nestled close to her, threatening her flushed cheeks to blush a darker shade of red. She could see the flames reflecting in his eyes as he fondly listened to the melodies she was playing.
Suddenly she had an idea.
Her gaze never wavered from him as her hands paused for a moment and then began to strum again. He's talked about that song before. It was his favorite - one that carried unspoken emotions and slowly became her favorite too. He averted his gaze from the strings and looked up at her, a mixture of admiration and surprise visible in his expression. He was so beautiful. So calm. So gentle.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. In that moment, every chord she strummed felt like it was an ode to him. That was what she lived for.
When the song came to an end, the fire was still burning, the waves were still crashing, the night sky was cloudless, and his unwavering gaze had left her breathless.
Before she knew it, his calloused fingers were on her cheek, softly caressing her warm skin. His scent mixed with the smoky aroma of the burnt out wood, engulfing her senses.
"How did you leave me this enchanted and stuck? I'm sure that song would bring me back to life when I'm no longer alive." He whispered against her lips, his gaze flitting between her eyes in search of the answer she couldn't form with words.
He was so close. Her heart skipped a beat at the mere thought.
"Please keep this one and play it only for us, would you?"
Her guitar was long forgotten in her lap when her hand reached up to tangle into his moonlight-kissed locks. She gave him a silent nod, pretty sure it would answer more than one of his requests. Because a charming smile bloomed on his face as he closed the remaining gap and kissed her under the starry sky.
Their first kiss. Her heart nearly melted from how soft it was.
She blinked once, and reality began to seep into the atmosphere. She still remembered how that night she'd promised herself to keep that one song only for him.
Not much had changed since then. She had the fire. She had herself. She had her guitar. And she had a kiss, not their first though. The last kiss.
"I've played it a hundred times. Why won't you come alive?"
She asked quietly, wrapping her old woolen scarf around her neck. She smiled despire herself. At least she knew the answer to that question. When he said those words he had no idea perhaps, that there would come a day that he was dead to her, not to the rest of the world. So when her aching fingers played it for countless days, it was only a sad serenade for the funeral of their long-lost love.
By the time the taxi arrived, she had packed her bag and relieved the most heart wrenching memories she could think of.
When her hand turned the doorknob and her tired body met the cool, fresh air, she realized that sun was no longer a con. It was warm and bright, up in the sky. It was still there, but he wasn't. She turned for a moment, watching the deserted house through tear-filled eyes. She mumbled a silent "Goodbye" and locked the door behind her, feeling more relieved and free than ever as she felt the delicate crunch of snow under her steps.
No more regret, no more rage, no more refusal.
She had accepted it.
When the taxi pulled away from the crub, she caught sight of herself through the rear-view mirror. A big part of her knew that she had made the right decision by selling the house. She watched as that haunted building became smaller and smaller in the background until it faded away from her vision.
But she was there. She hadn't faded from the view. She had herself. A chapter of her life was over and no matter how broken she was, no matter how terrible things had been, a new page still awaited her.
A small part of her knew that old wounds would sometimes show up to hurt her, haunt her. But life hadn't lost all its meaning.
She was on the way to find her true self again and somehow that was enough to mend all the wounds of her soul.
She blinked, the story wasn't over yet.
"I hope it's nice where you are."