Swan song

I was just a girl made of broken shards, until you.
I couldn't fall in love, until you.
I was just inches from giving up, until you.
I was broken, until you.
I never thought you'd break me too.


3. The party

I never thought I’d interact with him again. Never thought he’d speak to me ever again. Because who runs out on somebody that just tried to help them? Me, the idiot, apparently.
I was kinda glad that I wouldn’t see him again. I was so embarrassed by my behavior that day, that I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Like most days.

The horrible thing happened a month later. Where I had successfully, avoided him, only having him my chemistry lectures and labs. School took up most of my time, so it was easy enough to avoid him everywhere else. I didn’t even know his name and I was already avoiding the crap out of him. This was so typically me. I would do some embarrassing and awkward and avoid all situations that reminded me of it. Which I had gotten pretty good at; you know the whole avoiding thing.

We were laying on the sofa, Della and I, watching some stupid reality program about stupid, drunk people on some shore in Jersey. Even though it was entertaining it was still stupid. So, we were laying there, being lazy and bumming it. Della had been on her phone the entire time texting who ever hot guy she had met the previous night at a party.

“Can’t you just bang him and put him out of his misery?” I asked laughing, when she gasped at a text she’d just gotten. No doubt it was a sext. She laughed and threw popcorn at me, which just made me laugh harder.

“his dorm is having a party tonight, do you wanna go?” she asked me some time later, looking at me with her huge brown, puppy eyes. I sighed deeply, feeling my soul dying a little bit. Parties weren’t my thing. Drinking was. But the whole go out and socialize was really not my thing. I never did learn to enjoy it.
However, I had quickly learned that when Della gave me that look, I didn’t have a choice. Which meant I might as well not try to put up a fight, because my ass was still going to be pushed into tight jeans and my boobs were going to get squeezed into a tight little top that was meant for a 12 year old in size but definitely not in design.

Which is exactly what happened. The jeans were black and high-waisted since that was the only way I rolled, and the top was grey and off the shoulder with long sleeves. It wasn’t a bad look, I would’ve just preferred my pajamas, my bed and a book. Any book really, even a bad one.

Instead I stood there in that outfit with a shot of green alcohol in my hand, ready to knock it back just so I could get momentary relief. The music pounded through the air, making everything vibrate. There were a lot of people there, cramped into the common room of the Poseidon dorm. If you hadn’t caught on to it, the dorms were named after Greek mythology.

So, I stood there, shot in hand, music pumping, wanting to be anywhere else in the world than the crowded common room. But I knew Della would be pissed if I bailed on her now, so I raised my shot glass in her direction, she mimicked it and together we downed, what was apparently, a watermelon vodka shot. It wasn’t bad, but I was going to need a hell of a lot more liquor if I was going to get through this night. I waved Della over to me, and for the life of me I couldn’t tell you what she was doing when I did that. But she got her ass over to me and then we did shots.

A lot of shots.
An hour later and let’s just say things were a little blurry. I just wanted to dance and say fuck it all. Fuck it to awkwardness. Fuck it to cute guys that does stupid stuff and then acts all sweet. Fuck it.

I twirled around, my arms and hips moving to the music. I moved together with Della, and I was goddamn enjoying myself. Even though the world was blurry. But maybe that was just the way it was supposed to be. The world needed to be blurry so I could be happy and carefree, and to not see all the horrors of it all.

Hands wrapped around Della’s waist and spun her around so she was face to face with the handsome Major Williams. He was the one she had been texting, slash sexting, with earlier. He was quite handsome with his muscular body, brown hair and green eyes. Also, he was tall, and over these past months of living with her and being extremely good friends with her, I had learned that that was her type.

But there I was dancing alone again. But that was fine, I didn’t want to dance anymore. The sudden awkwardness setting in, and the urge to crawl into a hole reappeared. Everything within me turned cold and I wanted to run away. I quickly walked off the dancefloor, grabbed a cup of something and headed towards the hallway. I had to be alone.

When the cold set in, I had to be alone. I could feel the pieces of tape that held me together starting to slip and I had to be alone when it happened. I couldn’t let them all see it. It wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t who I wanted them to see. This was my secret and my privacy.
A weight seemed to press down on my chest and it became harder and harder to breath. The ragged sound of it reached my ears and I fumbled down the hallway. Drunk people all around me, the music still pumping, and all I could hear was my own hoarse, ragged breathing. My vision was still blurred and I tried to find the exit or just somewhere I could be alone.

Alone to let the pieces fall apart.

A hand wrapped around mine, and steadied my flailing limbs. At that point I didn’t realize who it was or what that simple action from his side would mean for the both of us. I just let him help me get into the bathroom, let me sink down onto the cold tiles and let it all go.

The coldness from the tiles felt nice against my overheated skin. I tried to look at him discretely, at that time to see who my helping hand was, but my head wasn’t doing the subtle thing. It rolled to the side, and I stared at him with wide eyes. There he sat, with his beautiful brown eyes and tousled hair, with a comforting smile on his lips.
My misery was entertaining to him.

As of today, I’m still not sure why he helped me, if it was to be nice or if it was to see me do stupid drunk stuff. Maybe both.

I mumbled an apology while I sat there, staring at him with wide eyes. I must’ve looked crazy. But he stayed there, just sitting next to me. Not offering up any conversation, but neither was I. Some part of me always taught he needed that as much as me; the silence. I finally stopped starring at him and the world started to become less and less blurry. But so did my mind.

I tried wiping away the wetness on my cheeks. I had cried. Without fully realizing it I had let the tears go with another person next to me. But this person didn’t seem to mind, nor did he seem to want to laugh at me or even make a comment about it.

I was wrong, but luckily in was a sweet way he proved me wrong. He looked at my trying to wipe away the tears and the mascara that had striped my cheeks. I must have looked like such a mess. He got up and got out of sight for a while. I remember thinking that he was too good to be true, and that he must have been drunk too to sit with me while I was a drunk mess.

But he came back with paper towels so I could dry my tears, and fix my face. He still hadn’t uttered one single word. I cleaned my face up the best I could without a mirror, when I was satisfied I curled the paper towels into individual balls.

A sudden urge hit me, and before I knew it one of the paper balls were flying towards his face. It hit him in the face, not very hard, but it had still hit him in the face. I hadn’t meant to hit him in the face, I mean I was the worst shot ever, so the chance of me actually hitting him at all was practically non-existing. Yet it happened.

I was about to apologize profusely when the ball came flying back at me, hitting me right between the eyes. Shocked, and extremely amused I looked at him. He stood there laughing, and he had never looked more handsome.

Looking back at it, I think that’s when I started to fall. Knowing that I would never quite get up from that again, I might have gotten up from the floor and walked away never looking back. But there was no way I could’ve been that smart and seen that coming.
At this time, I didn’t know what love was, so when the paperball fight broke out between the acid boy and me, I had no idea that it could lead to me feeling things I never thought were for me.

Sometime later, I fell back on the floor with him next to me, panting like a dog that had run outside in the heat. He was unaffected like the perfect specimen he was. I started laughing at the absurdity of it all. I still didn’t even know his name. We hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to each other, and here we were laughing together on a bathroom floor. At some point during my mental ramble, he had joined in laughing. I loved his laugh. That should’ve cued me in on the whole “you’re about to fall face first in love”, but I was oblivious.

I looked at him, still laughing, and asked him what his name was. He looked at me, a kind look in those brown eyes, and said

“My name is Theo Grey, pleasure to finally introduce myself to you, miss” and stuck his hand out for me to shake. I laughed at the politeness that came out of it. He was charming in his own weird way. I took his hand though, shook it and introduced myself.

“Kind sir, my name is Nova Warren. Pleasure to meet you”

He got up on his feet, pulling me with him. I looked up at him, and he bowed a formal bow. Like you see real gentlemen do in the old movies, or you do to the queen. That’s what he did and I loved it. 

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