c'mon, guys, we're in our twenties

spaghetti, was it spaghetti or was it bow-tie noodles? honestly, the brunette couldn’t even bring herself to remember what the recipe called for, but she reached for the nearest box of pasta she could find. she’d surprise herself today — hell, she had been surprising herself lately every time she turned on the stove, but at some point,  even she had to learn how to master the art of cooking. going out was becoming way too expensive. the brunette searched up and down the shelves for other items she may need that she hadn’t exactly realized the proximity to the other cart right until she heard the sound of the clashing metal. “oh, crap! no, I think that was my bad,” she started, pulling the cart away right until she noticed who exactly she had crashed into. “taylor! hi!” lex hadn’t seen the brunette since her wedding, and she wasn’t sure if she, being the other, even wanted to see her. there was so much going on in her life recently, from what she heard, that perhaps being away from anyone that was part of their ever so special show was the best for now – at least, that’s what she’d want anyway. was small talk even what they were supposed to do? she was closer to josie than she was taylor, but even she didn’t know how she’d react had she been in the same position. “uhm..” she cleared her throat, “how are you?” well, she’s obviously not fine alexa, what’s the matter with you? she mentally scolded herself, her eyes landing on the box of pasta in front of her. “oh hey, do you think spaghetti or bowties will be better for a beef stew?” 

“oh, you know,” taylor answered vaguely, tone self-deprecatingly light. because she knew alexa knew. taylor knew that everyone within her sphere knew, as well as everyone that was interested in keeping up with them, though to a lesser extent. the public had been quick to notice her and sebas’ lack of involvement—lack of public sightings, lack of posts. at first, taylor noticed during one brief and regrettable online sleuth, they thought she was pregnant. that the couple was keeping a low profile so that they could have some quality time together while building a family. wrong. by now, however, they’d moved on to breakup theories, as well as some other speculations that nearly emptied her stomach. she used to think the existence of ‘fans’ flattering—now it all just felt humiliating. humiliating on a mass scale.

“uh,” taylor stalled, eyes too falling to the box of pasta. honestly, she had no clue how to answer. had she ever even had beef stew? “bowtie?” her eyes rose to find the other’s again, a crease forming between them. then, after a brief pause, a short laugh escaped her. “i’m probably not the right person to ask. i almost walked in here, grabbed three bottles of wine, and walked right out.”

her eyes had been downcast on her phone, fingertips just moments from typing something vaguely along the lines of ‘dinner recipes’ when a sudden jolt rocked her cart. “oh, sorry—” she started immediately, dropping the phone in her bag and looking up.

there was a clear shift in mood. quite frankly, he had expected for there to be one earlier, as soon as he realized who it was in his childhood home. if the hesitance wasn’t evidence enough that something was going on in her heard then it was the tears that welled in her big blue eyes, blue eyes that he thought  about every so often and would calm him right to sleep when he found the shouts, yells, and hollers weren’t going to put him to sleep anytime soon. caleb couldn’t help but release a sigh at her apology, straightening up just slightly aware that the conversation he had been avoiding was about to happen. it had to, especially because of what was going on right now, her discomfort, her evidently being hurt, and he was the sole cause,  talking to her as if nothing had happened. caleb nodded as she spoke, listening to her talk about her auditions, a smile formed on his lips as he thought about her on the stage. if it hadn’t happened yet, it was going to happen soon, he believed that.  “you’ve got this, s…if there’s anyone who deserves this it’s you.”

the man watched her with the chocolate spoon, her facial features telling him what he needed to know. talk, talk now, or even the slightest bit of friendship with her is gone. pushing the hot chocolate aside, caleb took a deep breath, swallowing hard as he leaned forward on the island, elbows on top. his hands were in front of him, almost as if in prayer before covering his face with them. not out of frustration, but nervousness, anxious ticks that he just couldn’t let go of. the man breathed into them, an anxious breath that he needed to release before looking back up at her. 

breathe, caleb, breathe, his therapists voice rang in his head.  “i’m trying to figure out the words…” he spoke, his hands moving as he did. “i don’t want to say something and mess it up, s. i - i’ve fucked up once with you. i fucked up really bad, and i don’t want to do that.” he shook his head,  word vomit, he could feel it coming.  “i know, i know you’re angry at me and you have every right to be, and i know you probably hate me, or did, or still do, and me being here, talking to you, it’s not..it’s not me pretending nothing has happened, i just… i don’t want to hurt you any more than i’ve already done.” he swallowed,  “but i know you deserve all the answers you want and i have all day. so, if you’d let me..i’d like to answer whatever is going through your head right now.”   

deserve. as much as she appreciated the strikingly genuine compliment—an earnestness and encouraging nature she’d often received from him in the before times—it never came down to ‘deserve.’ few things rarely did, sierra had long learned and, even more than that, accepted. as far as she was aware, you did your absolute best and simply dealt with the rest of what your circumstances, other people, or the universe decided to throw at you. what she knew, at this point, was that it rarely all lined up. though once optimistic, she wasn’t sure that she believed in concepts such as fate or even hard work being enough anymore. what the world so often required of mere humans was luck—and sierra, at least, had only so far encountered that sparingly. it hadn’t been enough to take her out of the game completely, but it’d made an irreparable change in her perspective. one that, if caleb payed enough attention, was entirely evident in her lack of a reaction.

the sound of drinkware sliding across the counter brought her gaze back to him. she hadn’t meant to ruin his visit home, she truly hadn’t, but the guilt immediately sparked some anxiety. she opened her mouth some as though wanting to say something, perhaps apologize again, but the room remained quiet. it was all she could do to watch him cover his face with both hands and not reach out and pull them away. instead, her forearms laid flat on the countertop, thumbs subtly fidgeting with one-another. they froze, however—as did everything else—when caleb spoke again. there was no going back, at this point. no avoiding what was now the inevitable confrontation. they had no choice but to barrel forward into a tangle of explanations and emotions that had only grown in their neglect over the years.

sierra looked back at him, silent, for seconds that felt as though they spanned far longer than they were worth. then her elbows met the countertop, hands clasping onto one another and resting over her mouth. her eyes shifted off to the side, landing on an unremarkable square of tile as she contemplated what to say. although, there really was no contemplation to be had. she knew exactly what to ask, because it was the same question she’d asked his parents, her closest friends, her ex-therapist, and herself repeatedly since he’d gone away. the same question she’d typed out in text messages and phones notes, written in journals and on the backs of random receipts from their old favorite restaurants and fast-food places like messages in a bottle that could somehow, some way reach him. looking back, sierra took a deep, but quiet breath, chest collapsing with the exhale. “why'd you leave me?” her chin quivered almost imperceptibly and before she could think better of it, she added, “why didn’t you want to—” it was clear then that she wasn’t talking about him being arrested. she was referring to how he’d refused to see her after the fact. left her alone and confused and heartbroken, with only her own self to grasp at answers to questions she thought she’d never get real answers to. even so, she cursed herself for being so emotional. even now, she wanted to shield caleb from her pain, because she knew it’d bring him pain as well. so she looked away, a swift tilt of her head so that she was once again looking down at her cup. “i came so many times. i—i wanted to know that you were okay, but it was like you’d... died, and i could just never see you again.” a heavy comparison, but the grief that accompanied her throughout that time and after was undeniably comparable. 

lukapearson: RT: willowsworld women :)

    he wasn’t expecting her arms to wrap around him when they did, but he welcomed them. i can’t tell you how happy i am to see you okay. a smile creeping up on his face as he allowed himself to hold her tighter just for a second longer until she finally pulled away. the feelings, although not expressed, were the same. despite not having ran to her the minute he was let out,  he was happy to see her, happy that she was there. as they separated, he couldn’t help but feel the wave of anxiety and nervousness that was forming between them, most likely from his own anxiety and nervousness of being around her, finally. he tried to push the feeling away, walking into his kitchen and going directly towards the kitchen cabinet that held the powder, marshmallows, saucepan, he went down the list in his head until she broke the silence. he smiled, grateful, despite the question that had begun to form. “i,” he chuckled, “yeah…” he said as he begun creating his chocolatey concoction.  “i had one more year to go but good behavior and parole,” he shrugged, whisking in the cocoa powder. “the attorney spoke to the judge, granted me a hearing and the next thing you know, i’m grabbing my toothbrush, books, and i’m…” he paused, allowing for a sigh to fall from his lips. “free,” the word feeling different, strange, as he spoke it. there was something different about saying it within your confined prison cell and saying when you were out of that place. “margo picked me up.” 

caleb knew that sierra and him shared a best friend – margo, but he wasn’t sure how much she knew. did they speak to each other about him at all? had he become an unspoken subject between them just as she had become one theres? the limited how is she? here and there, and that’s all he allowed himself to know of her, telling himself that he didn’t deserve a look inside of her life, not after the way he had pushed her out his all together. “i’ve been well. going to school, trying to keep my shit together, dealing with…” he glanced around the room as if to say this, before grabbing two cups out of the cabinets and rinsing them off. “spoon?” he asked, holding the chocolatey spoon out to her as he filled up their cups with hot chocolate.   there was something about this, the two of them talking, that made him feel completely at ease despite the earlier anxiety attack he was having. there was comfort. regardless of how things ended, they were two people who had known each other, loved each other, lives intertwined together so deeply that she was still coming over to decorate and he would still offer to make her hot chocolate. quietly, he topped off the drink with whipped cream and marshmallows before sliding the cup over to her.  

“this is my first hot chocolate in a long time…” he told her, eyebrows raised in bewilderment, surprise, at how his life turned out, at the fact that he was out. “i’m glad i’m getting to share this moment with you.” an incredulous chuckle fell from his lips, followed by a quick shake of his head. it was the first time he’s made anything anyway, living off of ramen and coffee, and whatever margo brings over from the diner. how many times could willow send over her oatmeal? and who keeps making her do them? he wished they’d stop. he let out a breath before looking up at her, the corner of his lips turning into a small smile as he lifted his cup up.  “cheers,” he said, bringing the cup up to his lips, a happy sigh falling from his lips at the chocolatey goodness. “it really feels like christmas now.” the hot chocolate, being home, her. if he really thought about it, if she hadn’t been here, he would have never walked in.  “what about you, s? hollywood or broadway yet? big feature film lined up somewhere? should i expect one of those – whattaya call’em little freaky popzoid things to appear with your face on them?” he asked, genuinely excited and intrigued to hear more about her and determined to get off the subject of him. 

joy, sierra knew, should’ve been filling her eyes at each of his comments. at the mention of him going back to school, at the admission that this was his first hot chocolate in a long time, at the explanation of him being free. the happiness and relief should’ve been so evident and alive in her eyes that anyone would swear they contained a fucking cartoon-esque twinkle. however, as much as she tried—and she did, the slightly trembling grin that she carried a testament to that—it wouldn’t happen. joy couldn’t replace the sadness. relief couldn’t cover up the levels of unfairness. i’m glad i’m getting to share this moment with you. she blinked, nodding along in agreement despite the fact that he was looking elsewhere, down at the drinks he was making. a good thing, after all, given how quickly she felt a couple of tears that managed to fall from the brims of her eyelids and down her cheeks. a hand rose to quickly wipe them away, hoping against all hope that caleb hadn’t noticed out of the corner of his eyes.

he finally looked back at her, all cheers and christmas and popzoid, whatever it was he’d meant by that, and while she managed to smile and laugh at the latter, she simply couldn’t mask every bit of long-felt heartbreak. she couldn’t even bring herself to answer his question, pausing a few moments after he’d finished speaking to just look at him. at caleb townsend. at the young man she’d felt so much anger and deception and care and love towards. quietly clearing her throat, sierra looked down, hair partially shielding her face for a few seconds as she took a moment to breathe. great, just perfect, she thought, looking back up just as her eyes began to glisten again. “sorry,” she apologized, offering a small smile that said, wow, i must look really lame and embarrassing right now. “um—” her head then shook, in part to begin answering his question and in part in an attempt to shake away the emotions that continued to creep up on her. “no, nothing big yet. i actually work at the jazz club. i’ll drive into the city for auditions, but nothing’s... stuck yet. but that’s just sort of how it goes, until it doesn’t.” looking down again, she began to twirl the chocolate spoon between her digits, clearly elsewhere despite her efforts to appear casual and fine.

   the silence between them was deafening, and the more they stayed quiet, the more that sebastian couldn’t help but wonder what was going inside her head.  “hmm?” he raised his head, eyes softening and red from the previous tears, wondering what she meant by what now? the last thing, the last thing he wanted was to lose her, but that was her decision, and her decision alone. “i…” he stopped, “i don’t know…” he didn’t know if anything he said was going to be good enough, or if it even deserved to be said. “i don’t know if anything i say, if what i want matters..” sebastian looked down at his hands, his fingers playing with the wedding ring on his finger – a fidget. communication was important to them, it was important to him, but right now it felt as if everything they were saying, everything he was saying, was another stab at her heart. “i want this..” he started, “i want us to work. i want our marriage to work. i want you, taylor. i love you. i love you.” but he knew that if he had hurt her enough for her to want to leave, he would have no other choice but to let her, accepting that he had ruined their relationship, destroyed her and himself in the process of it. 

perhaps it would have been best to not tell her, to just let it go and never think about josephine again, to let himself live in blissful happiness with taylor, but the more he kept things from her, the more it ate him, at his very soul. he was broken, regretful, saddened, angry – so many emotions he couldn’t even process. regretful that he had dared to even fucking go, that he even had the fucking audacity to try and do the most idiotic thing he was ever going to do, sorry that he had hurt her, broken her heart,  angry that he allowed himself to feel this way for josephine, and failed taylor. sad, that his very marriage was breaking right in front of him, his own doing. 

he sniffed, tears staining his cheeks. “i love you deeply, taylor.” he could say that a million and one times and he would never grow tired of it.  “if this is the last time i get to say anything at all to you, i want it to be that. that i love you. that you’re the very best part of me.” he exhaled, doe eyes searching for the blue of hers. sorry i failed you, sorry i couldn’t be more of a man, sorry i couldn’t be completely honest with you. sorry that i allowed myself to continue feeling this way while being married to you. sorry that you feel my heart wasn’t completely yours. 

since the moment he met her on that stupid show, every thing she said, the game they played, the times they won various games, how they would do anything to just get a moment to themselves, away from a house filled with people looking for the same thing. he went to the house looking for love, and he found it. he found it and let it go once, only to find himself at her door again a year later. each and every moment they shared was a letter of her name carved into his very heart. now, no matter what you did, how you tried to erase it, you couldn’t get her out.  “i’m a fucking idiot,” he muttered, mostly to himself, but loud enough for his wife to hear. “i’m sorry, baby. i’m sorry you married a fucking idiot. guess the matching gods were right…” the reality tv show of their life would right now read no match, big red letters on the viewers screen, despite the fact that right until today, it felt like everyone was wrong, they were and would always be a perfect match.  

i love you. i love you deeply. you’re the very best part of me. it wasn’t fair. none of it, but especially the fact that, despite it all, taylor wanted nothing more than to reach forward with both arms and pull herself to him. to burry herself in his chest, his arms around her like a protective barrier, and be safe from everything that’d happened. but as much as she wished it weren’t true, you couldn’t be protected by the very thing that you needed protection from. as much as she, too, loved him—a deep sense of care that refused to be so quickly set aside—she’d been hurt horribly by him. she was hurting horribly and, if she were being realistic, she’d realize that it’d only hurt worse hours, days from now when the reality of the situation had fully sunken in.

space. ryan knew what that word meant – she’d been told countless times before that space was needed. some distance necessary to clear the air, so to speak. time. of course, that distance, and space, and time was always from her. images of her favourite people running in the opposite direction of where she stood haunted her dreams. the little voice inside her head had begun to scream, as it danced, and jumped around inside her skull, that this was just another example of how she was too much. 

“huh.” her eyes trailed from her mug to his, questioning clouded her expression as ryan fought to keep her voice steady and even. she wanted to ask–beg, if it came to that–for some sort of answer, some inkling of why he’d felt the need to put space between them. and even as the words left his mouth, she knew. she knew that there was no way it couldn’t not be about her. and the fact that bellamy so desperately wanted her to think otherwise did nothing to calm the nerves stirring inside her belly. “so.. i guess.. you being here means you no longer need space?”

a sigh, louder than he’d hoped, managed to escape past his lips. bellamy hated seeing her like this; the gloom that cast over her features like clouds rolling over a bright sky, despite his best efforts to toe around the issue. it struck him in a way that made him feel foolish for even trying to approach it so lamely. for thinking he could say what he just had while also being here, present, which would ultimately prompt the next question ryan asked him. it wasn’t like him to lie, especially not to her, so drawing a breath he prepared for the conversation that’d played out endlessly in his head for months, if not years. the one he’d convinced himself not to have a while back, once everything had seemed to settle. “ryan,” he began again, her name followed by a considerate pause and a clearing of his throat. bellamy then looked back at her, palms going flat against the table’s surface. “i’m not going to coddle you or act like you can’t... handle things that are a little tough. i know you can. so i’m going to be honest with you, okay?”

another pause ensued. one that he took full advantage of, knowing full well that it could very well be the last time he’d be able to like this. then, with kind eyes and a steady gaze, he admitted, “i have feelings for you. feelings that aren’t strictly friendly.” his hand rose again, in a similar fashion to how it had a minute ago—as if asking her to wait and hear him out. “—and before you say anything, i know. whatever it is,” i can’t reciprocate, i don’t reciprocate, i care about you as a friend, i don’t want to lose your friendship, “i know. i respect that and it’s okay. i mean that. i just need... time.” his head cocked to one side momentarily, eyes downcast on his coffee. “a little more than i’d like, but i’ll get there. and when i do, you’ll... hear so much from me, you’ll wish i stayed away.” at that his chin rose, eyes finding hers once more. a small grin, perpetually boyish in nature, captured his mouth, though it couldn’t wholly cover for the hint of sadness around his eyes.

as she cried, sebastian wanted to reach out for her, to hold her and apologize repeatedly for how he failed her, how he was continuously failing her. his own eyes were blood shot from the tears that he was holding in, the knot in his throat impeding him from even swallowing. sob after sob that fell from her lips was another twist of the knife he himself had put in their hearts, in her heart. he didn’t deserve her tears, not now, not ever. it caught him by surprise when she started talking, his eyes steadily focused on his hands, the ring on his finger,  eyebrows furrowing as he braced himself for her words. 

“there is….no possible way you understand the damage you’ve done to me. how deeply you’ve hurt me…every – every step of the way you knew this would devastate me…and you did all of it anyway. you chose to.” 

“i didn’t do anything, i didn’t do anything!…babe, i swear, i swear.. i..” nothing ever happened between them, nothing was going to happen.  “i just wanted to be honest, fucking honest. i – i..” despite the words that fell from his lips, as he continued to talking, he knew he she was right.  he didn’t need to sleep with josie, loving her was enough. he deserved her anger, her hate. because while he hadn’t done anything with josie, while he had fallen asleep, even feeling this way for her, allowing himself to feel this way for josie. sebas lifted the weight of the world from his shoulders but at what cost? at the cost of taylors heart, at the cost of hurting one of the most precious things in his life.

 “i didn’t…” what was he suppose to say?  what – if anything – could make this even remotely fucking better? telling her he loved her would mean nothing now. his words were empty now, just like the promises he had once made to her, the vows he had spoken to her. “i…” he paused, trying to find the words, trying to make sense of what was going on in his head.  “i didn’t want any of this to happen…” marrying taylor, loving her,  was one of the best things he had ever done, and just like that, in a matter of seconds, he ruined it all. 

“yell at me, tell me i’m the fucking worse, i deserve it. fuck it.. tell me whatever you want…” he swallowed back hard, trying to swallow back the tears, the pain. trying to dull it all down because he didn’t deserve to cry, not when he had hurt her the way he had.  “but i never, not once, fucking lied to you. so you can’t, you can’t fucking tell me i lied to you, you can’t fucking tell me i chose to do this on purpose.” the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her. 

“i love you with everything that is in me. with everything that i am. i have never fucking lied to you about loving you and i know, i fucking know, that doesn’t make this any fucking better. it fucking makes this shit stupendously ridiculous, and i deserve whatever the fuck you want to tell me, whatever you want to throw at me, but you don’t get to tell me that i chose to hurt you because that is the last thing, the fucking last thing i would have ever wanted to do. i didn’t fucking CHOOSE to do this, taylor. i didn’t fucking CHOOSE to have feelings for josie. i didn’t fucking choose any of that..any of this. i just..i didn’t…” he shook his head, throwing himself back on the couch again, his hands covering his face. frustration, anger, a sob finally releasing from the deepest parts of him. “i’m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry..i’m so sorry. i know.. it doesn’t.. it doesn’t – it doesn’t fucking matter.. but i..” he exhaled into his hands. “i’m sorry.”    

pressure met both sets of teeth as they clenched again. her upset only built and built, like teetering toy blocks or perhaps a house of cards, while sebas was intent on convincing her he hadn’t done anything. in the moment she figured she knew what he meant when he’d said that—that he hadn’t acted on his emotions. but in many ways he had, hadn’t he? he’d secretly met up with her. he’d kept her letter. he’d gone to find her. it felt more unfair, however, to hear him say that he’d wanted to be honest. that he didn’t lie. you withheld the truth. that he didn’t choose for any of this to happen. you met up in secret. you kept her letter. you drove yourself to her thinking i was out of town. you allowed it to come to this. it all came across as lie after incessant lie—and perhaps he believed them all to be true, though taylor would be quick to call that denial. defensiveness when she was breaking right in front of him. yet, throughout it all she only sat there, hunched over with her eyes steadily on the door. it wasn’t that she was focused on it intently, vision blurred, only that she didn’t want to look back at the man she called her husband. her love. she’d given all of it to him—her heart, her life, her future, her promises—just for it to come to this. it was hard to grasp at the fact that while this was happening to her now, in this moment, it’d actually been happening for a while now. for exactly how long, she didn’t know. she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. part of her begged her to ask for every detail, wanting to piece them together with how she recalled the past. weaving parts into a patchwork quilt that would accurately paint the reality of these last several years.

another part, however, wanted nothing to do with it. wanted to run so far from it she couldn’t recognize any of it anymore. but it was so intimate—so impossibly close to the whole of her heart—that it felt like, if she did choose to run, it wouldn’t matter how far she went. it’d be right behind her. it was in her, all consuming. hearing sebas’ sob, taylor looked over her shoulder. i’m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry. i’m sorry. it was impossible to tell if his genuine upset stemmed from having to finally explain himself, her reaction, or true regret for what he’d done. as excruciating as it was, the answer wouldn’t be discovered for a long while, if ever. in any case, his pain—his tears, his apologies—latched onto her own. amplified it. it was as though she were unable to process everything quickly enough to not hate seeing him like this. she did hate it. her love for him was so entangled in everything, so grounded in herself, that as much as she wanted to turn it off with the flip of a switch, she just couldn’t. it, however, didn’t retract from the immense heartache. the feeling that her world had ended with the two of them crying on the couch.

another bout of tears sprung from her eyes, taylor squeezing them shut so that they streamed down her cheeks and away from her eyes as quickly as possible. then, in a voice laced with pain, she opened them and asked, “what now?” she knew he didn’t deserve to be asked, but she wanted to know. she didn’t know. he wanted her to have it out with him, yell and shout, while she couldn’t even talk about it all in the moment. let alone know where to go from here. she needed to think, though the idea of sitting alone with all of this was more daunting than she ever could’ve predicted.