*Willow's POV*
I stare at the bouquet sitting on my dresser, noticing the petals beginning to wilt. Even sitting in the water, they still are slowly dying—and every time I notice how quickly they're dying, it reminds me of how many days it's been since I've seen him.
I should've called him that day, but now it's been almost a week and I feel like my chance is gone. I'm still hurt by him calling me foolish, and I know he probably didn't mean it. But I just can't help but feel hurt.
I don't even know if he'd want to talk to me. I've seen him outside, me usually watching from the windows. He doesn't ever look upset, so maybe he's getting used to me not being around—maybe he's realizing he's better off without me.
But what if he's waiting for me to call? What if he's in the same position as me—wanting to call but being too scared?
I start school again in 3 days, and I don't know how I'll be able to do it without him. He is—was—my support system. I just need to tell him that I'm sorry for asking for them back—I'll do anything just for him to talk to me again.
Speaking of which, I need to apologize to Rye again. I don't think he accepted my first apology for the painting. It was a complete accident, I was just trying to get my anger out and I didn't realize I was painting on Rye's final draft. It was a gorgeous picture of my mother, and I feel horrible knowing I ruined something he worked so hard on.
I'm shaken from my thoughts by the sight of the first petal falling off the bouquet. A piece of my heart breaks after seeing the petal fall, almost as if it's symbolic, and I quickly look away before standing up.
I walk through my door and I begin to descend the stairs, careful to make little noise due to my knowledge of my mothers current breakdown. I can hear her cries from the downstairs, even with her being locked in her bedroom with my father.
I grab the phone off the wall before dialing the numbers that feel like home, and I wait for him to pick up. It gets to the 4th ring with no answer, and my heart sinks. Finally, on the 5th ring, I hear someone pick up, and I smile at the thought of him wanting to talk to me.
"Hey." I start quietly, but I'm soon met with disappointment as the person who answers isn't Flynn.
"Hello, Willow." I hear Annie's voice ring, and I let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Flynn isn't home right now."
"He's not home yet?" I ask, looking outside and seeing that it's dark.
Where is he?
"He's at Eloise's house, but I can let him know you called once he gets home." She says, but even the lightness of her voice doesn't soften the blow. YHer name hurts me in a way I didn't know was possible.
Of course he's at her house.
"Okay," I start breathlessly, even more hurt than I was when he called me foolish. "Thank you, Annie." I don't even wait for her to answer before hanging up the phone and walking away.
How am I so incredibly naive? I can't just expect him to not move on after I completely ghosted him for a week. I can't believe I'm this stupid—I'm such an idiot.
I'm so stupid.
_
*Flynn's POV*
"Eloise, I don't know what to do." I state, pacing back and forth between her bed and her door.
She sits on the bed staring at me, her knees pulled to her chest just as Willow does.
"Flynn, you've been in distress about her all week." She says softly, and I look at her. "You've been with me everyday and you've only talked about her. I think you know what you need to do."
"She won't forgive me." I say, finally stopping my pacing and leaning against the door. "I dropped flowers off at her doorstep for her and her mother, and the only person I got a call from was Peeta, thanking me for Katniss's flowers."
"Then call her." She says simply. "Maybe she's too scared to call you first."
I stare at the floor for a moment, thinking this through. Could she be too scared to call? I don't know why she'd be scared to call me—she did nothing wrong.
I'm the one that screwed up, and if anything, I should be the one to be scared.
"I miss her." I say, and I feel tears flood my eyes. "I miss her so much." My voice breaks, and try to refrain from crying.
I haven't cried in a long time, I didn't even cry when I got my surgeries. But the thought of losing Willow is so overwhelming, overwhelming to the point of tears.
"Oh, Flynn." Eloise says, and that breaks me. Willow has said those exact words to me, and even the reminder of her makes me cry.
Usually I wouldn't ever do this, but I feel so helpless right now. I move from the door towards Eloise and I sit down on the bed next to her, falling into her shoulder.
The tears fall down my face, and even with how embarrassing it is, I know she won't judge me. She wraps her arms around me, not like Willow's do, more motherly in a sense, and I try to find comfort in them.
"You can't go on like this." She says quietly, but I continue letting the tears fall. "You're not okay, Flynn."
"Of course I'm not okay," I start, and I try not to take my frustration out on her. "I miss her so much."
"I know." She remarks, and I can hear the comfort in her voice.
Eventually, my tears stop falling and I'm able to pry myself away from Eloise. She laughs at me in a joking manner before telling me to leave and go see Willow. I hesitate, but she shoves me towards the door with a bright smile.
"Go." She smiles. "I can't handle the tears anymore."
Her joke makes me laugh because of the tone she uses, and I smile at her before mouthing a 'thank you' towards her and leaving her house.
Even with my eyes completely bloodshot and my hair messed up, I rush over to her house as quickly as I can, just needing to see her. I luckily pass the reporters without them realizing my existence, and I notice how good it feels to be able to walk through town without the fear of something you said being turned to national news.
I finally reach the house, and I notice my hand trembling as I take the steps on the porch. I raise my hand to the door, but I falter as I'm about to knock. A thousand worries run through my brain, but I try to hold myself together as I muster the courage to knock.
I wait for a few moments until the door opens, and I look down to see her standing there. Pieces of my heart are immediately mended just by the sight of her, but I know I'm going to have to do a lot more than that to feel better.
"Willow," I start, and my brain leaves the script I ran over a million times before I reached her doorstep. "I'm so sorry. I'm a complete idiot—I never meant any of those words. I was overwhelmed with Katniss and my mother, and I took it out on you, and you didn't deserve it at all."
"I know." She says, but doesn't say anything else. I continue on, but her face remains expressionless.
"I'm the one that's foolish, Lo." I remark, looking away before moving my eyes back at her. "I'm a wreck without you, I need you. I didn't mean the things that I said—I was so worried about losing you and I didn't want to show my feelings, so I deflected them onto you, and I'm sorry."
"I know." She says again, but her face remains in the same expression as it was in the first time.
"Please forgive me, Willow." I say, hopelessly. "I'm a mess right now, I can't even think or talk or even dream about anything besides you—I need you."
"I know." She says finally, but this time her face shows a smile. "I need you, too."
I don't know what to do when I hear her say this—my mind is running a thousand miles an hour—I can't think. And by not thinking, I decide it's a good idea to pull her towards me and press my lips into hers.
I kiss her like she's the thing I've been craving for years—it being partially true—and I don't move until she finally pulls away.
"Thank you for the flowers." She says, and I can see her cheeks redden slightly.
"I'll buy you flowers everyday if it means I won't lose you like I did." I remark, watching as she gestures for me to come inside.
I step inside, shutting the door behind myself, and I follow her as she steps into the kitchen. Her smiles falls off her face, and I give her a look.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" I ask, looking down at her.
"Mom's off the medicine." She says, and my face drops.
What?
She was doing so good.
"She hasn't slept the past three days due to the withdrawal, and Dad is too afraid to leave her side." She remarks, her face showing her emotions.
"I'm sorry, Lo." I admit, feeling guilty for not being here for the last week. I should've just called her the first day it happened.
"Do you have to go?" She asks, changing the subject. I usually would object on her deflection, but tonight I feel like it's justifiable.
"No," I shake my head, and I notice her freckles on her face starting to become more and more apparent. "I can stay, my mom will be asleep anyways."
She smiles at my response, and we go on talking as if no time has passed; as if we haven't wasted a week over my stupid mistake. Talking with her makes all of my problems seem to vanish, and even being around her makes some of my pain vanish, such as my surgery sights and the pain that radiates from those areas.
Eventually after talking for what only seemed to be a short while, we eventually creep up the stairs to her room.
I enclose her in my arms once we reach her bed, afraid that if I let go, she'll slip from my reaches once again. I play with her hair and move my hand up and down her shoulder, almost to remind myself that she's truly back in my grasp.
"Flynn?" I hear her mumble, and I can tell she's close to being asleep.
"Yes?" I ask, waiting for her response.
"Thank you." She remarks, but she falls asleep before I can ask her to explain. Her breath's get deeper, and she stops moving around as much.
Even with her in my arms, the only thing I can think about is how much I've missed her, and this other feeling in my heart. I don't jump to conclusions on what the feeling could be, but I know deep down that what I'm feeling is the same thing I've heard about in old movies and books—the feeling that lasts.