xoxo ◣ i should °TELL YOU ⋮⋮ feelsHASkilig && JINFINITE

[JINFINITE]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ERIC JAMES OLIVER ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122718-----------❖ LOCATION — common room-----------❖ COMPANY — the scrabble game
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---TRULY MADLY DEEPLY I AM -------- FOOLISHLY COMPLETELY FALLING -------- AND SOMEHOW YOU KICKED ALL MY WALLS IN

He had known this day was coming. Eric had known this day was coming all month long. But no amount of preparation or anticipation was enough to offset the pain that gripped him on December Twenty Seventh…at three in the morning when he woke up to a pitch black room with the only noise being Lizzie’s soft and peaceful breaths as she slept beside him.

His eyes hurt—it felt as though he had not slept at all, which was actually very possible as he had had such a tough time falling asleep which then made staying asleep just as challenging. Eric had been wracked with dread all of yesterday and had only briefly escaped the pain by falling asleep in Lizzie's loving embrace. If only he could have stayed asleep…

Today was the day of his mother’s anniversary—the anniversary of her death. The pain in his chest was so sharp, so heavy—so fresh and raw. Even though it had been five years already, to Eric it still hurt as though he had just lost her yesterday.

It quickly became clear that there wasn’t any point in trying to go back to sleep. Eric’s over-active mind had far too much going on, and the heavy emptiness that filled him kept him grounded in his misery and unable to drift free of the endless pain. He was at a point that not even Lizzie was able to help.

Although to be fair it wasn’t like he tried. Usually her presence alone could silence the noise in his head and brighten the dark in his heart. But this time he felt nothing from her. This time he was too broken to be mended by proximity alone. Maybe if he had woken her up then she might have made a difference. Maybe if he had woken her she could have helped before things got worse. Maybe if he had woken her he could have shared his pain rather than leaving it to fester and burn. But he didn’t wake her. Eric had spent this day alone every year since he laid his mother to rest and he didn’t know how to let anyone else in with him—not even Lizzie.

Despite how dark their room was, Eric could still make out her face peeking out from under their blankets. Her pure and perfect face, unscathed by any of the torture or torment that Eric had been through. But he had seen how he had affected her. He had seen her face scrunched with worry, and hurting from his pain. The last thing he wanted to do was burden her with more of his dark past—and especially not this. The escorting was humiliating, the debt was suffocating, and the recent introduction of his prior relationship with hard drugs was still fresh in the front of his mind. But this—his mother's death was not something he was ready or strong enough to share. He had long decided he would take it to the grave, not even Olivia would learn of what really happened that day.

He couldn’t be here any longer, Eric’s breath was shaky as he slowly and carefully climbed from the safety and comfort of their bed—taking care to not wake his love as he fled. The temperature of the room was painfully cold as it hit his bare chest, knocking out what little air his lungs had left and leaving him feeling as though he were drowning. Eric was gasping for air as he blindly felt around for his abandoned Disney jumper and quickly pulled it on.

Still shivering, he quietly slipped out of their bedroom and into the equally dark hallway. It wasn’t until he reached the common room that Eric finally turned on a light and watched as his breath visibly escaped his lips in a small cloud. Was it really that cold? But rather than moving to grab a blanket or to go heat up water in the kitchen for tea, Eric just stood stock still by the light switch as his eyes fell on the coffee table in front of the couches.

The crumpled wrappers from Lizzie’s cupcakes and their Scrabble game was left out unfinished and awaiting their return; between his work schedule and their hyperfixation on each other, they hadn't gotten very far in the game but Eric was undeniably winning.

Scrabble was the only thing in life that Eric could ever win at. It was a game of outwitting luck: you get your letters at random and have to make the most of it. Only his skills did not transfer over to the real world. In life Eric had drawn all the worst possible letters and try as he might he had been unable to make anything from them. His highest scoring word in all his twenty five years of life was ‘Lizzie’, and the double z definitely helped his points there. All the rest of his words were five letters or less: death, debt, drugs, abuse, rape, loss, money—Eric had no control over his own life and his brilliant mind couldn’t do anything about it. But maybe that was part of why he enjoyed playing Scrabble so much. It wasn’t just the mental challenge, but it was that he could finally feel in control of himself. He could manipulate those seven tiles of letters to his benefit and play them in all the right places to make the most of his situation.

Scrabble was fun, and easy for him. But staring at the board now it was hard to remember what fun even felt like. Everything was so difficult for him now compared to sharing the couch with Lizzie while they played his favorite board game. The only difficult part then had been concentrating on the game itself when Lizzie sat across from him. But nothing else had been on his mind compared to now when literally his entire world was weighing him down.

“Eric?”
He choked hearing his love’s honey sweet angel voice call his name, and all at once his lungs forced several coughs in an attempt to expel as much of the toxic smoke he'd just inhaled. He was outside now, and had been for a while but he hadn’t heard her come up behind him—what time was it? But as Eric turned to face her the confusion in her expression told him she was just as surprised as he was. Lizzie was quick to press on, asking what he was doing out here.

Well, obviously he had been smoking. But he knew what she meant. It was cold, early, and outside of his routine to be out here alone. However Eric’s answer didn’t address any of that, he didn’t miss a beat as he threw the ball right back in her court, ”Why’re you up so early love?” He busied his nervous hands with putting out what was left of his cigarette and another short cough escaped to battle the tickle in his throat that came from speaking for the first time this morning.

Eric tried to pour all of his focus into Lizzie as she explained that she was planning to go swim. He was desperate for any distraction from his own thoughts, but at the same time he found it very difficult to focus on…well anything, and that must have been clear to Lizzie as she wasted no time in circling back to him and why he was out here—more specifically asking if something was wrong.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”
He had replied too quickly, and there was a heavy pause that first made it feel as though he had said the wrong thing. But experience told Eric that she was patiently waiting for him to elaborate on his own terms, ”I’m—“ However when Eric lifted his eyes to meet hers, the genuine concern creasing his love’s perfect face had him swallowing back the automatic denial response he had nearly pushed her away with.

The biggest lie and most overused excuse in the world: I’m fine.

He wasn’t fine. He was far from fine and he knew she knew immediately just from these few minutes they’d had together. She was so quick to read him and it left Eric in a conflicting state of feeling vulnerable yet safe. Vulnerable in that there was no hiding from her. This would be the year he couldn’t just ignore today and tell her he was fine like he did everyone else. And while that honestly terrified him, it was also comforting to feel seen for once—to have someone else notice that he in fact wasn’t okay and choose to try and do something about it.

But Eric’s eyes couldn’t hold her gaze the way he normally did, and as they glanced away to alleviate the pressure he could feel his heart rate climbing with anxious anticipation. All of a sudden it felt like the entire world was on his shoulders. Like he had to do this. He was backed into a corner with no way out and his throat was closing in on itself with each passing second of silence, ”I—“ His courage was fleeting and left him as soon as he tried to look at her again.

This wasn’t fair. They had done this dance so many times at this point and Eric was very much aware of his avoidance and reluctance to share. She had accepted everything he had told her thus far. She knew of his upbringing, of his mum’s drug addiction and subsequent passing, she knew he had struggled to survive under crippling debt and was essentially forced into servitude for Howard’s business. Hell—she knew of his era of sex work and the traumatic experiences that had scarred him! But this….this was too much. This was the tipping point that Eric was fully convinced would send her in the other direction. It was hard enough to see the way she looked at him with such sadness everytime a piece of his past came up, but Eric wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection he was sure would come about if she knew this truth. He would become such a disappointment to her. She would be disgusted with him. She would leave him…like everyone else.

Eric had been awake for so long at this point that it didn’t take long for his anxiety to spiral beyond reason and in the end he just further pushed Lizzie away by promising to tell her later. And the immediate relief that came from knowing he didn’t have to tell her—or at least not right now—was such an addictive high. His walls were up and guarded and he felt safe being able to keep everything locked inside. And most importantly: Lizzie wouldn’t leave him. Yet…
”Love it’s cold, let’s go inside.”

Things between them the rest of the morning felt off. Awkward and distant despite both their attempts to resume normality. It took a little bit of pleading, insisting and convincing, but in the end Eric succeeded in getting Lizzie in his car so that he could drop her off at the pool. But despite the car’s little heater working overtime to warm them, the air retained a certain chill from everything currently left unsaid between them.

But rather than returning home after dropping her off, Eric left straight to the hotel. He couldn’t remember the last time he had driven to work, it wasn't that far a journey anymore with his Oyster card. But today he wouldn’t be going straight home after and so he was thankful to have an excuse to drive. Though it was a miracle he made it at all considering how distracted he was. Their goodbye kiss lingered on his lips teasingly so. There had been an almost soft hesitation to it. A strange mixture of loving care and obligation, like if they didn’t go through with it then everything would be ten thousand times worse. And her touch was left tingling on his skin and her words ringing in his ears: “Don't shut me out again.”

Her voice repeatedly infiltrated his thoughts throughout the day, but not even Lizzie could dam his flooding river of depression, not this time. Yesterday he had managed to distract himself at work with a muse for a new song he had started writing. But today all his motivation had been steamrolled into the ground and not a single creative thought circulated in his head. It was just dark in there. Guilt and regret repeatedly hitting old wounds till they opened and the pain just grew more and more as the day went on.

By the time Eric’s shift ended, he wanted so badly to reunite with his love; he was craving her comfort. Only it turned out that Lizzie would not be home, as he read through a text she sent alerting him that she would be late getting home. It was as he stepped outside the hotel that Eric realized he hadn’t told her of his own plans yet either. The entire reason he had wanted to drive to work today.

Eric was quick to type up a reply that he too would be late, but just as he hit send a coworker called his name to say bye and pulled his attention away—in turn Eric automatically out of subconscious habit locked his iPod. By the time she left he glanced back down to the black screen in his hand. Lizzie hadn’t replied. There was a part of him that yearned for a response from her before leaving, his anxiety needing constant connection and reassurance. But the rest of him just felt…nothing. Like his entire world was slowly sinking through quicksand and no matter what the outcome was inevitable so why bother putting in effort to stay afloat? Lizzie was busy and so he was alone in this, just like he was every year.

Since he had driven to work this morning he was able to get to the next item on his agenda in no time. He was soon seated in a reclining chair, his work shirt unbuttoned with one arm out of the sleeve resting palm up on the arm rest. At his side, his friend was hard at work laying down the outline of an eagle while the tattoo gun in his hand buzzed away.

Eric’s eyes were fixated on his arm, watching as the new lines ran over the words that had been across his forearm for a few years now. Things i can…

Things he could do, on his own, by his own free will: nothing.

His eyes then glanced to his still sleeved left arm knowing that that was where his second tattoo would go, to cover up the second half. Things i can’t…

Things he could not do: seemingly everything.

Because of how his life had played out, Eric was trapped in this neverending debt, drowning in his unprocessed grief, and fighting himself over his own addiction.

Lizzie had single handedly become the most important person in his life. She had proven time and time again that she was willing to put up with everything life had thrown at him. And Eric had tried over and over again to accept that as truth and let her in. The only thing he wanted in life was her love but so many times now something had come between them and proven he didn’t deserve it, didn’t understand it, couldn’t handle it—he needed more of it.

She had never responded to his message. He had checked his lockscreen a couple times earlier while his friend was setting up, and while Eric wanted to be patient and understanding that she was probably busy with her own plans like she had said, he still couldn’t help but feel impatient and needy. He couldn’t wait to get back to the flat to be reunited with her—but he also didn’t want to go back. It was easier to breathe away from home. His chest didn’t hurt quite so much after dropping Lizzie off this morning. His thoughts didn’t race and repeat and relive past experiences. Outside of the flat he just didn't feel. He was numb to the pain, both emotional and the physical of the needle repeatedly piercing his arm.

The alcohol had also helped with that.

By the time he came home with both forearms covered in seran wrap, Eric was fairly gone. His usual bright eyes were glossy and empty—devoid of any real emotion. He wasn’t so far gone that he could not make rational decisions, after all he had managed to drive home in one piece, but it was just enough to visibly confirm that yes, he had been drinking and was still under enough influence that the pain hadn’t crept back in yet.

He paused as the front door swung open before him. Partly as though contemplating if he really wanted to go inside, partly waiting to hear Lizzie bounding around the corner to greet him. A huge smile on her face, the excitement in her voice. Her arms wrapping around his neck as he bent down to her level to match her energy in his kiss—but even after stepping inside and closing the door behind him Lizzie still had not appeared.

Was she not back yet? Their bedroom door was shut but that didn't necessarily mean anything. She could be inside trying to keep warm. Maybe talking with someone back in California. Or maybe she really wasn’t home yet. It was pretty late though…whatever, Eric didn’t care—no, actually that wasn’t true at all. Eric cared very much. But he wasn’t mentally or emotionally in a place where he could feel that. Where he could act on something so selfish as seeking her out for his own comfort.

He wanted nothing more than to be enveloped in her love, but he didn't deserve that and so as a form of self punishment he turned away to isolate himself in the common room and collapsed onto the sofa. Every year today felt like the longest day of his life and it was so draining. Eric couldn’t feel that yet, but he would no doubt crash soon enough and tomorrow would be when all the pain, regret and exhaustion set in.

In the meantime he would sit here alone in the dark and try to get a hold of himself because while having no control over his life was one thing, feeling out of control of himself was downright scary and Eric didn’t trust himself to not fuck things up if he tried to just resume life like he hadn’t just gone through the worst day of his life for the fifth year in a row. ​

​

 

[feelsHASkilig]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ELIZABETH DARCY aka LIZZIE ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122818-----------❖ LOCATION — common room-----------❖ COMPANY — eric...technically
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---WHY'D YOU HAVE TO BE SO CUTE -------- IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE YOU -------- WHY MUST YOU MAKE ME LAUGH SO MUCH

Lizzie suspected that Eric was…off. Well, actually, what she was definitely considering without a shadow of a doubt was that he was being distant. Initially, she tried to brush off the suspicion strictly because Eric had been so busy during Boxing Day. It was the sacrifice he had to make for them to spend Christmas together. But even though she was grateful for the opportunity to have the holidays with her love, she still couldn’t help worrying. That worry held when he returned home from his overnight shift and, after his “typical” greeting, went straight to their room for a nap. He hadn’t even offered an invitation for her to join him. Just went straight to their room without even so much as looking back to her. It continued hours later when he returned home after his second shift looking dead on his feet and only offering her what she could only deem as the barest minimum effort of his “normal” behavior. Again, at the time she reasoned that this change from how he usually acted around her had something to do with work stress. It was a valid argument.

But that didn’t stop the little voice in Lizzie’s head from sounding off the warning bells that something just didn’t seem right with Eric.

In the end, she decided not to say anything for fear that it might set him off for nothing. As they went to bed that night, she hoped that whatever off feelings she had been fighting would go away once his schedule returned to normal the next morning.

Unfortunately, her hopes did not come to be. And as she woke up an hour before her swim alarm was scheduled to go off, she immediately sensed that her world was still tilted off its axis. She sensed it the moment she realized that Eric’s side of the bed was cold—and not because it was freezing in their room. When she looked and touched the space where her love slept, it instantly felt devoid of his comforting presence—as if he hadn’t been there with her for hours.

If she had been suspecting that something was wrong with Eric the day before, all of her warning signs confirmed it the moment she found him outside. Not only that, but with a cigarette lit between his fingers. She was aware of his occasional smoking habit, of course. But she was also reminded of the times she had witnessed him smoking. Each and every one of them were not good memories. So it was not out of the realm of reason for her to assume that him smoking outside was because something was, in fact, wrong. Especially since he was smoking outside in London’s freezing winter, in the middle of the night.

Yes, something was definitely wrong with Eric and Lizzie could already feel the heavy weight of worry press down on her.

But try as she might, Eric was pushing her away. No, it wasn’t just that. He was shutting her out; walls and all. That realization alone hurt her more than she wanted to admit. She thought they were long past this type of behavior. Hadn’t she proven to him enough that she was more than willing to take on anything and everything with him? The good and the bad? Hadn’t she already proven to him that there was nothing—absolutely nothing—that could ever convince her to leave him?

So why was he reverting back to the days when he couldn’t trust her love and loyalty?

In the end, Lizzie could only rely on the progress they’ve made together as a couple to push through every doubt, insecurity and worry that plagued her the moment she stepped out of Eric’s car and watched him drive away before she even stepped foot into the gym. The fact that he stopped denying that anything was wrong earlier had to mean something! He promised to tell her later what was bothering him. And she made sure to remind him that he did not need to shut her out.

The rest of her day, unfortunately, did not improve. No matter how hard she tried, she failed to shake off the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach at the prospect of waiting hours to talk things out with Eric about whatever it is that is bothering him. Not even focusing on swimming laps could clear her mind. Nor spending some quality time with Beth and Patricia for their post-Christmas Friendsmas hangout. Because by then, Lizzie was drowning deep in anxiety over Eric. Even though he was responding to her texts throughout the day, it honestly felt like she was pulling teeth with him to get any response that was more than a couple words or a generic answer.

There was one point while she was hanging out with her friends that she contemplated leaving early so that she could be home before Eric. But the moment the idea sounded rather convincing, she found out just as quickly how obvious she was to her friends that something was wrong with her. She didn’t even have the chance to convince them that nothing was wrong. As they argued, it was plain as day on her face that she was upset about something and they refused to let that get in the way of their quality time together. Before she knew it, a fully brimmed shot glass was shoved into her hand and she was ordered to chug it all down.

Four shots, a glass of wine and a surprising amount of ice cream later, Lizzie was forced to send a message to Eric around the time he was supposed to clock out of work that she would be coming home late. She was advised by her equally inebriated friends to not tell him that the reason she would be coming home late was because she was drunk. “Whatever it is that is happening between you two…you probsss shouldn’t be around each other while you’re drunk.”

“Yeahhhh… It’s not a good look to be fighting and then breaking up over the holidays.”

Lizzie felt sick to her stomach at the thought. With a deep frown on her face, she stared intensely at her phone waiting for Eric to respond back. Surely he knew better than to leave her on Read. And she was so sure she caught him before he typically left the hotel to head home.

Except that a response never came. Not five minutes after he was officially clocked off work. Not after the suspected twenty minutes it would take for him to get home from the city. Not an hour later…and a full glass of wine consumed because of her intoxicated stress.

It was a proud feat for Lizzie to manage to leave her Friendsmas hangout without saying a single word to her friends about the issues with Eric. The truth was that they weren’t even issues. She knew how to go about dealing with Eric when he thought the world was against him. Even when he still left her message on Read hoursss after she sent it. She knew after all the heartache and practice that all he needed was her patience and some time. To this day, it still wasn’t easy to give him that, but she still did it anyway and she would keep doing it because it certifiably worked for them. How many times had they fought through hardships together because she was patient with him?

Now that she was sober enough to think—and see—straight, she was ready to head back home and face whatever it was that has been plaguing her love for the past couple days. She was ready to walk through the front door, make camp in the common room and fight side by side with Eric through whatever was pushing him away from her.

Only…that was not what happened the moment the front door opened. The strong determination vanished from across her face as she came face to face with a dark and cold house.

Nothing could convince Lizzie that Eric had been home since he got off work. When she left her tunnel vision determination to sit her boyfriend down and talk them through this thing getting between them, she headed back down the walkway away from the open front door to survey the street parking. Her heart dropped when her suspicions were confirmed. Eric’s car wasn’t parked outside the flat, which meant that he wasn’t even home. She bit down on her bottom lip as she turned right back around to head inside. Long before she closed the front door behind her, her phone was already tightly in her hand ready to find out what the hell was going on.

Despite the off chance that none of her messages would go through in the instance that he was somewhere without Wifi, Lizzie still typed up and sent message after message to check in on Eric. Letting him know that she was home from her hangout with her friends. Asking for any update on where he was. Asking for an ETA or confirmation that he was on his way home. Try as she might to remain calm, each new message she sent to Eric became more and more frantic. And the longer she remained alone in the cold and dark flat, the longer her mind had the opportunity to become…creative.

By the time she rushed into their bedroom to curl up under their blankets, Lizzie was at the brink of tears. Her throat felt so tight while she tried to keep herself calm and composed. The last thing she wanted to do as she scrolled through her contacts to find Freddie’s number was to sound distressed over the phone. She didn’t exactly want to rope in other people into her worries. What if it only made matters worse? What if Eric did have a legitimately reasonable explanation for why he was off the grid—when he knew damn well that he should never do so? But after over an hour of trying and failing to get a hold of him, Lizzie was driving herself crazy with worry. She was growing desperate.

As soon as Freddie answered the phone, Lizzie couldn’t keep the shakiness out of her voice. Whatever composure she had left vanished as soon as she opened her mouth to finally ask, out loud, if he had seen Eric today. The silence on the other end after her question only made matters worse for her. In an effort to cover and muffle the sobs that were climbing up her throat, she pressed a hand hard against her mouth and put the call on speaker just so that she could keep the phone away from her.

But even those efforts didn’t work as Freddie asked after another moment of silence, “You alright, Lizzie? Everything okay?”

She didn’t know how she managed to get through lying through her teeth, but just as quickly as she told Freddie that everything was fine, she hung up the call with a quick favor to text her if he heard from Eric. After that call, she wanted nothing more than to just throw her phone to the other end of the room and ignore the possibility that Freddie could try to reach out and check in on her. She knew she failed terribly at keeping the sobbing from her voice and it was making her sick thinking that there was someone out there that knew she was in distress over Eric. She’d successfully put their problems out in the public.

Lizzie fought hard to ignore the urge to completely ignore her phone for the rest of the night at the off chance that Eric did finally give her something about where the fuck he was right now. Especially after she plucked up the last ounce of courage and dignity she had for herself to call Olivia. Surely his best friend would know something about this kind of behavior. However—and Lizzie had to admit that she was relieved it turned out this way—Olivia was unreachable. Her call went to voicemail after ringing a few times. And while it would have made sense for her to leave Olivia a text, after what happened with Freddie she was too anxious and too stressed about roping in yet another person into her problems to open iMessage.
After her failed attempts to get any news on Eric, Lizzie was an absolute wreck. She couldn’t even tell how long she had been looking out their bedroom window at the empty parking spot in front of the flat, waiting for his car to show up. Each time she looked down at her phone and only saw their picture with no notification from him, she felt like her chest was about to cave in on itself. Her eyes felt heavy from crying so much. But, overall, she was so tired. The amount of stress that crash landed on her since she got home earlier utterly damaged her ability to simply function.

As a result, and without realizing it, Lizzie knocked out. The only reason she knew that she had fallen asleep was because as she opened her eyes and observed the dark bedroom, it just felt like time had passed.

When she looked down at her phone, her face fell into utter despair. Not only was there still no message from Eric, but he had been MIA for two more hours.

She was at a loss for what to do now. Should she try going back out and finding him? But…even in her desperate need to find him, she knew that wasn’t going to do anything to help. She had no car and the last thing she wanted to do was drag someone outside of her relationship into her problems. She considered trying to message him again, but a little dark voice in the back of her mind told her that it was pointless. If he hadn’t messaged her by now, she was short out of luck getting a hold of him again.

“Argh!” The outcry felt hoarse on her throat, but it paled in comparison to the frustration she felt as she tossed her phone angrily to the foot of the bed. The device banged against the wood then bounced once before falling onto the floor.

She couldn’t take this stress anymore. It killed her that she was living through a situation that was worse than two months ago—finding out Eric was missing and going out to look for him. Now, she could feel the hopeless realization that he was probably missing again, but with that the chilling dread that this time she couldn’t do anything about it.

Her dry, heavy eyes widened as a horrifying thought suddenly flashed through her mind: What if he was working for Howard again???

The longer she sat motionless on the bed in the darkness of the bedroom, the more pieces started to fall into place. It was…starting to make a little sense. After all, he told her about Howard’s offer to forgive this month’s payment if he did a job for him. What if…what if Eric lied and actually accepted the job? What if that was the reason he was being distant the past couple days? What if he lied to her about the whole double shift at the hotel and he was actually off somewhere—only God knows where—doing only God knows what for that devil of a human being?

These terrifying thoughts somehow renewed the tears she thought she finished shedding. And as these said tears burned down her face, she climbed out of bed to go in search of her phone. Fuck any kind of dignity she had left for herself or for the privacy of her relationship. She needed someone—anyone—that could help her.

Her hands just touched the coldness of the device when she thought she heard something outside the bedroom. Maybe she was being delusional in her painful desperation, but she could have sworn in the brief silence she thought she heard footsteps? It was that very same desperation that made her throw caution to the wind as she shuffled onto her feet and rushed to open the bedroom door.

As she poked her head out into the dark hallway, she just caught a swinging light in the common room before she was once more consumed by the darkness. But there was no denying the accompanying sound of the refrigerator door closing. Someone was in the flat. And even if there was a single ounce of possibility of stranger danger, Lizzie ignored every sign as she walked right over to the open double doors.

Sure enough, she came face to face with Eric mid step in the direction of the couch. Through her tears she let out the biggest sigh of relief she ever released in her life. She could feel the last bit of air leave her lungs, but she didn’t care. Eric was home.

As she stepped into the common room, Lizzie wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her sweater. She used this time to look him over; to check that he was okay. The first thing she noticed was the unopened beer bottle in his hand, which she only focused on for a brief moment before continuing her observations. From her standpoint, he looked in one piece. There were no signs of blood on his work clothes nor did he look or show any signs of being…under any other influence.

That was when her gaze finally found his and that’s when she saw it. He was giving her…nothing. Absolutely nothing. The ocean eyes that were usually so full of emotion just looking at her were now dull, almost dead. He didn’t even look affected by the fact that she was standing right in front of him with tears falling down her face.

“Where—” A tickle disrupted the rest of her question. After a couple coughs to alleviate the hoarseness in her throat, she tried again. “Where have you been? I’ve—” She took a hesitant step closer. “I haven’t heard a single word from you for hours. Did you get any of my messages?!”

For the first time since she walked into the common room, a small ounce of emotion crossed Eric’s face: confusion. Watching his brow furrow briefly ignited something in the pit of her stomach. Why the hell was he confused? What right did he have to look at her like that when she was the one that suffered from anxiety and confusion for over three. fucking. hours?!

“I messaged you…” That’s it. That was all he had to say to explain himself. And if it weren’t for the fact that it was so quiet in the common room she almost would not have heard it. Whatever hope or relief she felt now that he was home was quickly vanishing…leaving behind what she was quickly realizing was impatience. She was ready to put her foot down and demand answers.

“Eric,” Lizzie took a step back toward the double doors. She was too nervous about being close to him while she could practically feel the anger boiling inside her. The last of her patience was dwindling, but she was fighting real hard to keep it. “I have been staring at my phone since I got home at six. Longer if you count the fact that I have been waiting for some acknowledgment that you got my text earlier telling you that I was going to be home late from my thing with Beth and Patricia.” She was practically forcing the words out of her mouth with how tight her throat felt.

“Did you get any of my messages since?” she demanded again. His only response was that he hadn’t checked since he got home. She scoffed at this. “And you didn’t even think to check in on me?! You decided to just go straight here and—” She needed to pause. Her impatience was starting to get the best of her and she knew if she kept this momentum things were going to worsen.

She took a deep breath after taking one more step away from him. “I’ve been worried sick about you all day! I felt that something has been off since yesterday, but I wanted to give you your space. But…God, Eric! Why are you doing this?! I thought we were past this!”

Nothing. No response. Not even an attempt to move closer to her.

Lizzie sighed heavily, running frustrated hands through her hair. She turned to look away at this point, too upset to continue trying to read him.

“Please, talk to me. What’s wrong? You’ve been distant since you got home after your overnight last night and— I thought…” She tried to blink the heaviness from her eyes. “I thought maybe you were just stressed about work, so I didn’t want to pry. But…you haven’t gotten any better. And I just—”

They stood in tense silence for what felt like ages. But during that time, Lizzie still refused to look at him. She was too afraid.

“Why are you doing this?” Her words came out in a whisper, but the deep sigh she heard in front of her told her that he heard her.

“I’m sorry…”

That was it. Lizzie felt it. With just two words she felt the line being crossed, the fine line that kept her patience in check no matter how often she wanted to do more than just wait.

And once that line was crossed, words that were better left unsaid escaped. With those words, even harsher ones were reciprocated. But in that time, Lizzie didn’t care, she lost control of herself. Whatever thoughts she had in mind were said before she even had a moment to consider keeping them to herself. Frustration and anger fueled her. But worse than that, betrayal kept her motivated.

She was tired of the “I’m sorrys” being the only thing that could bandaid every problem between them. She hated feeling like she wasn’t doing anything for him. She was heartbroken at the thought that maybe, just maybe, she was doing more harm for Eric than good.

And she voiced all of those feelings, long before her mind had the bright idea to make her stop. With each word, the tense silence thickened between them. No more words exchanged between them were going to fix what was already being shattered before them.

That was when Lizzie finally found a moment of clarity in the fog that was the hurtful words they used to attack each other. It was also at that very moment that Eric left her with one last verbal attack: “Then why are you still here?”

She took a deep breath as she finally looked up at him. Straight into his eyes. For the first time all night—hell, for the last two days, there was true, genuine emotion aimed directly at her. It wasn’t the usual love that she had grown so addicted to. There was no light in those ocean eyes. He was just as upset and betrayed by her as she was by him.

“You know why. You know damn well why! But—” Another deep breath. “But maybe right now I shouldn’t be.” And with that, she turned her back to him and walked down the hallway back to their bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

However, Lizzie didn’t stay in the bedroom for long. She just couldn’t. Not when she was surrounded by happy memories of a time before the disaster that happened in the common room. It was tearing her apart being alone in this room when the other half of her happy memories was still out in the disaster zone, obviously refusing to be the one to fix this. She needed a break from it all. She needed a chance to just breathe.

Her grip tightened around her swim bag as she stepped into view from the double doors. “I’m going to the pool,” she explained, her tone flat despite the emotions flooding through her. She wanted to say more, to give him more than he gave her all day. But the moment her eyes caught sight of him sitting slumped over on the couch with the earlier beer bottle now open in his hand, she couldn’t take it any longer. Without another word, she turned away again and left without looking back.

Ten minutes and a very tense Uber ride later, Lizzie stripped out of her sweats and hoodie and dove immediately into the pool. As soon as she felt the momentum dwindle, she became hyper focused on her kicks and her form. She kept her pace, strengthened it even. She just wanted an excuse to think of nothing but her breathing, her pace and her form. At some point, she lost track of how many laps she had been swimming. All she cared about was ensuring she breathed when needed and kicked and pushed forward always.

When she did finally climb out of the pool, her old swim injury was angry at her. She winced at the sore pain in her shoulder, biting down on her bottom lip as she tried to relieve the tension. If she hadn’t considered regretting her decision to go to the pool—alone—this late at night, her body was going to make her. But first, she needed to work up the motivation to do what she didn’t want to do: go home.

By the time she walked back to the front door, whatever dread she felt coming back to the flat was gone. She was just tired, so tired. Everything about today ruined her, but it was only because of her exhaustion that she lacked the energy to recall any of it and feel that regret. The only thought she had in mind was how badly she wanted to go to bed and how much her shoulder was killing her.

Before she opened the front door though, Lizzie couldn’t stop herself from looking back down the walkway. However, when she saw that Eric’s car was still parked outside, she felt…nothing. Just…tired.

Having showered at the gym—in an attempt to delay coming home—Lizzie dropped off her swim bag in the laundry room and went straight to the bedroom. Or at least that was her intention. Before she knew what she was doing, she was walking past the closed bedroom door to return to the dark open double doors.

But instead of stopping to check on Eric, Lizzie forced herself further forward. She moved past the couches and the obvious dark figure sitting there to go to the kitchen.

It was once she stood in front of the refrigerator that she finally stopped and looked up. From where she stood, she noted the additional bottles that accompanied the first one. Then, she braved to look at him and take in what she had left behind. What she saw broke her heart all over again. She had never seen such defeat in a single person in her entire life.

With slow and careful steps, Lizzie walked around the couch until she was standing in front of Eric. She waited to see if he would look at her or show any indication that he knew she was there. He didn’t. And it was with that realization that with a sigh, Lizzie placed the glass of water on the coffee table in front of him.

“Don’t sleep out here tonight,” she said, her voice tired but with the hint of concern returning to her tone. “It’s freezing out here; you’ll get sick. Use Olivia’s room…if you need to.” With that, she released her grip on the glass, straightened and turned to leave. ​

 

[JINFINITE]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ERIC JAMES OLIVER ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122818-----------❖ LOCATION — common room-----------❖ COMPANY — lizzie
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
---TRULY MADLY DEEPLY I AM -------- FOOLISHLY COMPLETELY FALLING -------- AND SOMEHOW YOU KICKED ALL MY WALLS IN

The last time Eric had experienced deja vu as physically crippling as this was back in their bedroom when Lizzie had triggered pain in what should have been a very personal and pleasurable experience for the both of them. Now she had dropped him back into the darkness of his past again only this time the present pain was just as real as the past had been.

He watched the double doors she had stormed out through, replaying her back turning to him over and over and over…and with each replay he felt sicker and sicker as the memory began to overlap with one from five years ago.

“I dont want to fucking hear it anymore.”
His own voice radiated in his head: the last words he ever said to his mother before he too had left their flat angry and needing space away from his mother in order to be able to calm himself.

Part of him wanted to run after her to go defend himself, to reiterate that he had in fact texted her back to give the heads up that he would be late too. To tell her that he had at least tried to be responsible, but at this point that fight was over. He had fucked up, and he had fucked up bad. Lizzie did not deserve to be put through this.

Eric had never meant for things to end up this way. He had never experienced sharing today with another person before. He knew when he was sad it would hit him heavily, but despite knowing that well in advance his own self sabotage had struck gold this time around and he had sunk as low as the very person he hated the most in this world.

No—that was a lie. He didn’t hate his mother, but he did hate what she did to him…and here he was literally putting Lizzie through everything he had experienced with his mother. She had cared for him when he was sick, whether through illness, alcohol or drugs. Even through times he probably should have been picked up in an ambulance she had been there at his side. She had paid for him when he couldn’t because he had spent all his money on his own addiction: her. She had been there to quiet his demons and forgave him time and time again for all of his bad decisions.

But that was over now. There would be no forgiveness after this. He had finally pushed Lizzie too far and all his worst fears were coming to life. This was it. He had lost her for good. It was just as he had been worried about earlier that morning when he had been scared to tell her what was bothering him—scared that she would leave him for it—and she had.

By the time Lizzie had returned, Eric had gone through several drinks and with each one he lost more and more of his sense of time or self. Five years ago he had experienced the worst pain of his entire life. Each year since he had gone through it all over again, and each year he reached a level that he did not think he could survive feeling like this again. But this year was especially bad on account of arguing with the love of his life. He was deep in feeling as though there was no point to anything anymore. Why should he fight so hard to live? To survive in a world that was so clearly against him…and especially if Lizzie was not part of that world—

But then she was. Suddenly Lizzie was before him and even without the honey in her voice she still sounded so sweet to his traumatized heart. And suddenly he could feel the air escaping his lungs faster than he could refill them. Suddenly the only thing he could think about was how desperately he wanted to hold her. To feel her run her hands over his skin and through his hair. To hug him close and tell him that he would be okay—Eric leaned forward to set his current beer down while he searched for his voice—“Lizzie I’m—“

“It seems like you’ve been saying I’m sorry all month.”
Now it was Lizzie’s words in his head because the roles had been reversed. It was no longer him yelling at his mother for ruining his life, now all he heard was Lizzie upset that he ruined theirs.

“Sorr—fuck…“
Eric inhaled sharply as he let himself collapse against the back of the couch, his foot hitting the leg of the coffee table and setting off a tiny chorus from his empty bottles while he internally smashed his head into the wall for his inability to say anything but sorry.

His next few breaths came heavy as he fought through his own self loathing to be able to give Lizzie what she wanted—what she was owed. It ended up being a long moment of silence while Eric tried to muster up the courage for what he was about to tell her; in the end it was likely thanks in part to the alcohol deep in his system that he was able to say anything on the subject of: “Today is—was—my Mum…”

He couldn’t finish his broken sentence, nor could he look at her. Eric’s gaze was completely avoidant as his hands instinctively clasped together between his knees to busy themselves while he tried to reset himself. At least Lizzie had stopped, he knew that much, but now the pressure was sinking in…after five years of holding it in, the moment to come clean was now.

Eric’s eyes were dancing back and forth now at nothing in particular, just desperately searching for a way out of the hole he had dug himself into. But there was no escape, not anymore. Lizzie’s presence had ignited what was left of his desire to try—to live. But as much as he wanted to tell her, it was still far too difficult for him to approach head on, so Eric took a metaphorical step back to give himself some buffer to prepare himself to say the word: died. After all this wasn’t about that. Lizzie already knew his mother had passed. It was what she didn’t know that was ripping his already broken heart into shreds.

His hand escaped to rub at his face and over his eyes, blocking out all distracting sights while he poured all his concentration into everything he was about to say, ”I thought she was getting better but…she wasn’t home for Christmas. I waited all night—“ He had waited all night just like he made Lizzie, and Eric lowered his hand to watch the coffee table as the memories of that night came flooding in at full force—”She came home so high…” He had made an effort that year to decorate for Christmas. They had a small tree in the corner but in the days leading up to the twenty fifth, Eric’s gift to his mother was the only one to ever appear underneath it. It wasn’t until weeks later packing up all his belongings that he found her gift to him lost in her bedroom closet.

”But I—I just yelled at her and…and I left,” Again his words overlapped with Lizzie’s, the trauma repeating in his head with the similarities to his fight with his mother and his with Lizzie. His mother had apologized so many times. She was crying and stroking his face and telling him how much she loved him and Eric had just snapped at her and left.

His next inhale shook as he neared the end of his story. He couldn’t put this off any longer—not that it mattered…Lizzie was already so mad at him, and she would never forgive him after what he was about to say. He already knew this would be the end of them, it was just a matter of hearing the rejection from Lizzie herself.

“I was just so tired—of everything,” Up until now Eric had spoken so emotionally detached, but as his story reached a tangent he took it immediately in order to postpone the inevitable. His previously weak voice strengthened angrily as he retold how hard he had worked to support them and how she would then steal his money for drugs and alcohol. She ruined everything he did to help them—to help her. There were weeks they didn't have any food in the house and he had to find all his meals at school or other means like stealing from the convenience store.

”—but…” The first tear crept up so quietly that Eric wasn’t even aware of it. Wiping it off his cheek without a second thought as he continued on with how he didn’t come home until days later. Two days to be exact. December 27th. And when he did he found her on the kitchen floor.

It wasn’t the first time he had come home to find her overdosing, but this time when he found her she was barely breathing. Another tear escaped but again Eric brushed it away before any real emotion could take root.

”She was still breathing and I…I…” She had had a brief moment of consciousness but died….staring at him…and Eric just sat with her body for hours before calling anyone, ”I killed her.”

The tears were starting to fall more frequently now, but Eric was still fighting so hard to hold them back, all five years worth. He had carried so much guilt for so long, the fact that he didn’t call for an ambulance the second he found her. He had waited for her to die and even then waited some more. And then worst part of all “And I—she died and all I could think about was how glad I was that she—“

Eric lost his fight at this point. His voice broke and the tears streamed uncontrollably. He had been relieved when she died, thinking that she would no longer be able to ruin his life. But oh how wrong he was, and he had to live in that house for weeks after, passing the very spot he let her die over and over again. A constant reminder screaming at him while his world shrunk and crumbled in the wake of her death.

He had been so angry at her for so many years. When was the last time he told her he loved her? He was always so upset with her. Then she died and the only one he could be upset with was himself. Even attending her funeral and sitting through all her family’s lies and cover ups about her didn’t bother him as much as knowing he had been the one responsible for her death.

That became the start of his self harm, subjecting himself to long, painful tattoo sessions, both to honor her memory but to also take out his self loathing via having someone stab him repeatedly with a needle until his skin was as numb as his heart was inside. Then later moving on to digging his own nails into himself when he found that the physical pain was preferred over the emotional.

And even now his palms burned from his own abuse, but it was nothing compared to the chaos that was unfolding within. It was such a huge relief to feel the weight of his guilt redistribute from sharing his pain with her. But he also was regretting it just as strongly knowing that there was no going back from this now. Lizzie was the only person in the entire world to know that he had essentially killed his mother.

”I—I’m sorr—I’m so sorry—“ Eric couldn’t stop crying, his face buried in his hands as five years of repressed grief poured out without an end in sight, ”Lizzie—I—I’m—”​

​

 

[feelsHASkilig]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ELIZABETH DARCY aka LIZZIE ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122818-----------❖ LOCATION — bedroom-----------❖ COMPANY — eric
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
---WHY'D YOU HAVE TO BE SO CUTE -------- IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE YOU -------- WHY MUST YOU MAKE ME LAUGH SO MUCH

A heaviness weighed in her chest as she listened to Eric. It was a burdening mixture of pity and concern. And under that, was fear. She had suspected that something was wrong with Eric for the past couple days—that suspicion was proven by his sudden shift in behavior. However, she never thought the reasoning behind it would be this bad.

Lizzie kept her distance, leaning against the doorframe as she listened quietly while Eric struggled through what she figured was the last of his explanation for the past couple days. But she was nowhere near calm. Her hands were fidgety. When she wasn’t twisting her fingers together, she was fumbling with the fabric of her sweater. As patient as she was to ensure that he finally said what he needed to say to her, she was also fighting a restlessness that was quickly growing alongside the heaviness weighing on her.

This struggle could only have one explanation: she wanted to be close to him.

But under that certainty, there was the uncertainty that she was nowhere near capable of being the thing he needed right now.

What the hell did she know about the grief and the guilt Eric has been harboring for the last five years? How could she even begin to do anything for him when she was kept so in the dark about all of this? What could she even do now that she knew…everything?

Yes, there was a moment as Eric told her the night his mother died that she knew without a shadow of a doubt the last wall that separated them had finally crumbled and he now sat in front of her bare and raw. After months of fighting with him to be honest with her and to let her in, he finally did. Because, what else could he possibly tell her after confessing to witnessing the last moment of his mother’s life?

A wave of sadness rushed over her at the thought. She had wanted to come to this moment with him for so long. Now that she had, was it worth it? Was this moment—in which he finally trusted her with a secret he held back for so many years—worth the nasty words and the terrible actions from hours before? Did this very moment have to come as a result of their lowest moment as a couple?

A conflict brewed inside of Lizzie. A part of that conflict felt like it came from the residual emotions of their fight earlier. It was like an impulsive need to keep defending herself. From what, she had no idea. But the other part, the stronger part, was the voice of reason that was urging her—begging her—to just go to him. This feeling was an entity completely different from the monster it was fighting. It was purely instinctual and entirely fueled by her love for him.

Because despite everything that happened tonight and the past couple days, it could and would never stop her from loving him.

And as Eric fell apart in front of her, completely overcome by grief and blinded by the tears he had obviously been holding back for so many years, Lizzie ignored every ill feeling she had for him just hours ago. In fact, with each step she took toward him, all of those feelings vanished as if they never existed in the first place. Every cell in her body, every fiber of her being, was pushing her and demanding that she close the distance between them. She may not know what she could do for him now, but she knew that she just needed to be near him. She could not let him be alone for one more torturous second.

She wasn’t even completely on the couch as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. There was a brief moment where Lizzie stood awkwardly over Eric before the rest of her body caught up with her actions and dropped most of her weight onto the couch. She had one knee resting on the cushion, pressed against Eric’s thigh. Her other leg was still straight, feet planted flat on the floor to support the rest of her weight. All the while she was hyper focused on pulling Eric closer to her. Her embrace was desperate and grew more desperate when she picked up on his response. He stiffened at her sudden embrace and then went momentarily still as if he shut down. But Lizzie didn’t care. Instead she wrapped her arms tighter around him, lowering them around his shoulders while one hand rubbed his back.

Then just as soon as she registered his impulse reaction to her embrace, she felt every support she depended on her legs give out. A gasp escaped her as she felt herself falling backward onto the couch by a force much stronger than herself. But she wasn’t completely scared of this loss of control, not while she focused solely on the even tighter embrace around her. With a gentle grunt from the sudden halt to her fall, Lizzie immediately adjusted her position, wiggling slightly under all of Eric’s weight so that he rested more comfortably on top of her.

It was hard to tell just how long they stayed in this position. It could have been mere minutes or well over an hour. But for Lizzie, she didn’t care. Not when the only sounds that filled the dark common room were Eric’s sobs.

A lump in Lizzie’s throat choked her from saying anything as she held him. Or it honestly could have been the mental block preventing her from finding the right words to say to him. Because the truth was, she hadn’t a single idea what she could possibly say to him still. Nothing her mind thought up as she continued to hold him seemed right. In fact, she was riddled with self-doubt that if she even uttered a single word right now it would ruin everything and she would lose him. So she said nothing and instead focused on continuing to rub his back while also combing gentle fingertips through his hair.

As time continued to move on without them, Lizzie focused solely on Eric. She picked up his heavy inhales in what she could only imagine was his efforts to get any kind of air into his lungs through a throat closed up from crying so much. When she tried to loosen her embrace on him to offer him the space to get in a better breath, it only caused him to hold her tighter to the point that she was losing the ability to take in her own breath. She didn’t complain though. Despite this intimate moment, it was still volatile. At least to her, one wrong move—whatever it may be—could ruin what they managed to rebuild together.

It didn’t escape Lizzie though that she might want to say something to him. While, yes, she was more than aware that actions alone were enough for Eric, that didn’t negate the fact that he had just confessed one of his deepest, darkest secrets to her. This wasn’t something that could be swept under the rug in an attempt to fix what had been broken between them. If left untouched, it would continue to keep them broken. But as she continued to brush rebellious strands of hair out of his face, she continued to worry that whatever she said next would be completely wrong.

Still, she felt compelled to at least try.

She didn’t have to understand him. She didn’t have to convince him of anything. She just had to let him know that she heard him.

“I’m sorry…” Her words came out in the smallest whisper, but it was loud enough to encompass the bubble that was their world in the midst of rebuilding itself. It weighed on her how dangerous it was to utter those two words considering the terrible things she said to him about them. But they were the only words that she could think of to say to him after all that he said to her. She just hoped that he believed her.

They once more fell into a heavy, but gradually soothing silence in which they simply focused on each other. She knew he heard her and at the moment that was all that mattered. She knew that she didn’t need to further explain herself. He understood her as much as she understood him.

But as more time passed, Lizzie soon moved on from being hyper aware of every one of Eric’s movements to…thinking. Mostly about his mother.

She held no ill feelings for the woman. Despite everything she had put Eric through his entire life, Lizzie could not find it in herself to harbor any form of distaste or hatred for her. Even though his mother’s drug addiction had ruined both of their lives, she couldn’t stop from just feeling bad for her. Life had thrown her a challenge that she probably didn’t even try to power through, instead leaning heavily into a quick, but temporary solution.

No, not a solution, an escape.

But…that still didn’t make her a terrible person. Her actions and decisions in life were a weakness that were only enhanced when she was taken advantage of by the real villain: Howard.

Lizzie stilled momentarily at the thought of that evil man. Luckily she caught herself quickly enough to push him right back out of her mind. That man had no place between her and Eric. Never again will he get between them.

As Eric lifted his head up slightly, Lizzie went back to rubbing his back. With the rhythmic motion, her mind moved back to his mother; to fully think of her at last.

And she realized very quickly just how little she knew of the woman. Obviously she knew about the addiction that inevitably killed her. Everything else she only learned recently. But she knew that there was so much more to know. Just…would Eric tell her?

Lizzie tilted her head down carefully. From her angle, she could not see Eric’s face as it was mostly covered by the top of his head and his long locks of hair. Should she risk this precious and sensitive moment to satiate her growing curiosity?

Maybe, if it helped?

Thoughts of her own mother suddenly popped up alongside the ever growing number of questions about Eric’s mother. But she wasn’t recalling her own memories of her mother. She was remembering her own death anniversary. She found herself back to the year before, sitting on a picnic blanket with her sisters as they shared lunch together at their mother’s grave. With the photo of her mother on the headstone smiling up at them, she remembered the countless stories Jane and Emma shared, most of them repeats from years before. And the clarifying questions from Mary to make sure she remembered something the same way the elder two did. She remembered how she asked her own questions, wanting to learn anything new about their mother despite feeling like she knew enough already. Because, surely, there had to be more.

This was their tradition every year for as long as Lizzie could remember. It was the only time she ever felt close to a woman she shared little to no memories with. And as she thought of this, she considered the possibility that despite everything that happened between them, Eric was at least lucky to know his mother. Not considering the obvious, she couldn’t even imagine what his life would be like if he never got to know her.

“Eric?” Her heart was racing and she was certain Eric could feel it. But she had to do it, she had to ask. If not for her own curiosity, then for her desperate attempt to help him…hopefully. “What was she like?”

It was this question that finally pulled Eric away from her. He didn’t pull completely away. Instead he straightened his arms enough so that he could lift his head up to look at her. Her heart once more broke at the sight of him, realizing she hadn’t looked upon his face in what could be hours. His eyes were red and swollen from crying. They also lacked much emotion as they gazed into her own. He also looked so tired. The alcohol he drank earlier must have finally flushed out of his system, leaving her with a shell of the man she knew and loved. As she bit down on her lip, she hoped that her gamble would be worth it in the end.

“I get that she wasn’t the easiest person to grow up around, but, like…surely there was still something about her that…I dunno…” She sighed, fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater as the nerves started to kick in. “There has to be something that made you love her until the end?”

“Like, you mentioned the flower shop. When we were in Barking?” She wished so much that she was holding him again. This distance between them made her anxious and she was beginning to doubt this was a good idea. “You said that you would bring home some flowers for her. Were they her favorite? What were they? Did you always get the same flowers? Or did they change depending on, like, the season or something?”

And the questions kept flowing. Every detail she could think of to ask about Eric’s mother that she didn’t know already, she asked. At first Eric was hesitant, offering her short responses just to get through the question. But Lizzie was patient and persistent. Until suddenly the questions and answers evolved into a full conversation. Eventually, the only questions Lizzie asked were follow ups about a detail Eric shared that she wanted to know more about. While she was certain there were some things he still kept from her, she was at least content with the fact that he was willing to talk about his mother now.

Surely, that had to mean he didn’t hate her as much as he tried to make it seem.

They ended up talking through the night. It wasn’t until Lizzie got up from the couch to grab them water from the kitchen did she finally see the time. She was conflicted. Obviously she felt guilty keeping him up so late. Between his early start this morning and the overall day he probably had, he must be exhausted. But…as she looked back at Eric, noting that he was watching her, she couldn’t help feeling that he was coming back to her. Not as much as she hoped, but it was a start. She feared if she stopped now, she might lose that small glimmer of hope again.

After one more look at the time though, she couldn’t push aside the guilt.

“It’s getting late,” she said slowly as she handed him the glass of water. “We should…” Don’t sleep out here tonight… “Let’s go to bed.”

Eric’s presence loomed heavy over her as she led them back to their room. As he pulled the double doors closed behind them, a momentary lapse of fear came over her. What if he followed through with her suggestion earlier to sleep in Olivia’s room tonight? Should she tell him she changed her mind? Would he listen to her?

Once the double doors clicked shut, Lizzie didn’t say anything. Instead she simply turned and continued walking to their room. All the while she hoped that he would keep following her until they were inside.

At their bedroom door, Lizzie paused for a split second. She waited with bated breath to see if Eric would keep walking down the hall. When she heard no further footsteps, she breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the door open.

Inside their room, Lizzie made no other observing pauses. She moved from one quick task to the next until they were both ready to climb into bed.

However, as Eric climbed into bed first, she stood frozen at the corner, biting down on her lip again. There was something she wanted to say to him, something that had been swimming in her mind the entire time they talked in the common room.

“I don’t think it was your fault,” she told him, letting out the words as quickly as possible before she chickened out. “She was sick, and that had nothing to do with you. I think that, until the very end, you did everything you could for her.” ​

 

[JINFINITE]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ERIC JAMES OLIVER ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122818-----------❖ LOCATION — hotel lobby-----------❖ COMPANY — lizzie & coworker
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
---TRULY MADLY DEEPLY I AM -------- FOOLISHLY COMPLETELY FALLING -------- AND SOMEHOW YOU KICKED ALL MY WALLS IN

Wrong. She was wrong. If he hadn’t walked out on his mother then she would still be here today and Eric wouldn’t be treading the quicksand of debt. He started to shake his head in disagreement—but…maybe…maybe Lizzie was right and he would have just lost her another day instead. Maybe her death was inevitable and no matter what he did it never would have been enough to save her.

Eric thought he had finished crying, he thought he didn't have any tears left to cry, but as Lizzie granted him forgiveness for what he had been tormenting himself over for years, Eric felt the saltiness of his sadness return to sting his already raw and hurting eyes. His hand flew to his face, aggressively wiping over his eye with the heel of his palm in an effort to keep this second wave of tears at bay. But Lizzie was just seconds behind him, quickly climbing onto the bed and closing the distance between them as she reached out to gently brush over the irritated skin under his eyes.

No, he still firmly believed that she was wrong, but Eric didn't have it in him to tell her so. Especially with how her soothing touch was melting him back into an emotional puddle. She didn’t try to fight his tears and let them run freely when they surfaced; allowing him to fully experience and process his grief without interference. But she did quietly wipe them from his cheeks before they could reach his jaw line or fall onto the bed beneath them.

It was Lizzie’s lips at the corner of his mouth that banished the remaining tension from his body. Eric longed so badly to rewind and return to Christmas when it was just the two of them hopelessly love drunk off one another—when the only problem they had to deal with was remembering to come up for air. He missed when intimacy brought out an addicting rush of good feelings and he wasn’t trapped in this seemingly endless riptide of pain.

As Eric tilted his head he silently accepted her kiss full on, his hands tugging her closer—his body was desperate to feel again, to be rid of this numbness that his grief had doused himself in.

But as they finally transitioned to laying down and pulling the blankets up over them, Eric initially retreated again. Normally his hands would have found their way under Lizzie's clothes to rest against her skin and brush his fingers over her as a means of self soothing. But tonight he didn't. Tonight he couldn't. Eric had no will left in him at this point and what little bandwidth he had remaining was already maxed out and stretched thin just by existing. That wasn’t to say he wanted to die by any means, but he was unable to care for himself beyond anything his body could do unconsciously such as breathing or blinking. But even those were proving to be difficult after all his crying. He was far too exhausted to be needy or anxious. The only emotion that he could reliably single out was pain.

A deep all consuming pain that left a feeling of separation of his soul from his body. Everything that made him who he was had left and all that remained was a numbness so intense it burned and left his chest feeling tight.

For a while Eric didn't think he would ever fall asleep. It was already so late and he had to be up in just a couple hours anyways, so was there even any point to going to sleep? But he had also thought he would never get over his mother’s death—that his heart would never get a reprieve and that year after year he would be subjected to this pain. And while he certainly hadn’t moved on, tonight had been the first step in accepting that it even happened. The secret he had planned to take to his grave was out, but rather than adding to his stress, confiding in Lizzie seemed to have taken a small ounce of his burden. And it was that small ounce that finally allowed his mind to shut off long enough to sleep for those couple hours he had. When he did fall asleep it was to the rhythm of Lizzie’s hands trailing through his hair, her heartbeat against his head to her chest, her scent calming his senses with each breath he took, and with his own arms finally wrapped around to keep her close as though afraid that if she left he would shatter all over again.

But when Eric woke up, everything arguably hurt worse than when he had fallen asleep—if he had even fallen asleep. In fact the only proof he had was that Lizzie’s hands had stilled and he had no memory of her stopping. Otherwise there was little else that could convince him he had slept at all.

Last night he had been so numb to life and the painful consequences that accompanied it. But now he could feel it all, because as cathartic as crying and telling Lizzie about his mum had been, it also just unearthed everything he had kept buried for the past five years and one night was nowhere near long enough to heal it all.

And then there was the physical pain accompanying it now. It hurt to open his eyes, it was difficult to take a deep breath, there was a low but constant throbbing in his temple—in fact Eric discovered that his entire body was sore as his center of gravity shifted from his world solely consisting of Lizzie, back to the reality of earth itself.

That is until he felt Lizzie stirring against him as her hypervigilance noticed his subtle movements, “Eric?”

He had to immediately swallow back the apology creeping to the tip of his tongue. To tell her he was sorry for waking her up, and for how he acted yesterday, and for everything that happened last night, and for always being the center of their relationship problems. Sorry for having kept so much from her for so long, and for not being able to outright tell her that he was going through something—for being the reason that everything had escalated into a fight between them. And that he was sorry for only knowing how to say “I’m sorry”. How many times now had they gone through this dance? Well it was certainly enough for Eric to recognize each and every emotion etched into his love’s face as she took in his. She was scared for him, and concerned. He could see the worry infiltrate her expression in how her eyebrows simultaneously furrowed and melted upon meeting his blank, seemingly lifeless gaze—it was as though she was trying to gauge his present mental and emotional state. But with that worry he could see the same patient sympathy that had forgiven him time and time again for his dark past and all the mistakes he had made because of it.

Their hands touched, as though both had instinctively sought out the other, and Eric gave hers a gentle squeeze, though whether it was for her benefit or his own it was hard to say. He was desperate to cling to something—anything to take away his pain. And this felt right, this was something familiar to him. Consistent and reassuring, Lizzie’s hand always felt perfect in his, no matter what the circumstance. Whether it was leading her through the crowded streets of London, subtly maintaining contact with one another under the table, or grounding him through past trauma. But no matter the scenario, holding each other’s hand always had the same double meaning: ”I’m here” and ”I love you”.

Lizzie had verbally told him that she loved him plenty of times before, and even more through physical actions. But Eric had never really felt as though he deserved it, and that was especially true on this morning—the morning after the storm. Staring into her eyes while she searched his for what remained of his scarred and bleeding soul, Eric could truly feel her love beyond just words or actions. She did so much for him but time and time again Eric felt he just further dragged them down, and that guilt clawed at his heart as his thumb brushed over the back of her hand in the last moment of silence, “Sorry love, you can go back to sleep…”

He didn’t want to lie by telling her that he was fine, but the question in her eyes was so loud…in the end Eric settled for a truth that all but swept everything from last night under a rug, “I need to get ready for work.”

This was the only way he knew how to survive the days surrounding the anniversary of his mother’s death, to just keep busy and stick to his routine. If he did that he wouldn’t have time to feel anything and then before he knew it it would be January and he would have a whole year before he would hurt like this again. This was how Eric had gotten through these past five years. And this was how he intended to get through this year and the years to come as well.

The pause of silence between them was heavy, Eric could feel Lizzie wanting to speak on the matter, but there was a hesitance to her now that he wasn’t entirely used to. Another day Eric would have had the motivation to properly notice and address it, but right now the best he could do was to pacify the situation in an effort to not have a repeat of last night; he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead, savoring the quiet moment before following through on his statement about work.

Eric gave one last look to his love from the doorway. He wanted to do more to reassure her that everything was alright, but nothing felt right—nothing felt real. He wouldn’t lie to her, but neither did he want to continue unloading onto her. He had put her through enough as it was. She didn’t need to hear about how little he valued his own life ever since his mother’s passing. Or that he didn’t see a future for himself—not with this endless debt that served as a constant reminder of what he lost and could never have. And that despite what Lizzie had said last night, he only had himself to blame for all of his problems.

Even if his mother had died another day or another way, Eric had still chosen to give up. Surely he could have done more to escape inheriting her debt. Brought the legalities of it to light somehow, gotten someone involved, told someone he was struggling long before he was suffering. The healing of Lizzie’s forgiveness from last night was short lived and had already worn off: everything was all his fault and he couldn’t be convinced otherwise.

After finally leaving their bedroom, Eric went straight down the hall to the bathroom. He was planning to just pee and carry on with his morning, but after catching sight of himself in the mirror he knew that wouldn’t be an option. His eyes were red and puffy, the combination of too much crying and not enough sleep. His hair looked oily and unkept, and his skin extra pale. All in all he was not presentable for work, and while other people stopped taking care of themselves when they were depressed, Eric had long ago mastered compartmentalization and all he had to do was shove his feelings back down—like the box in the back of his car—and carry on with his life.

It was while in the shower as he gingerly ran his fingers over the fresh ink on his forearms that Eric’s mind circled back to a conversation from last night. Lizzie had asked if he was late getting home because he had gone to the cemetery to visit his mother, and oh had he wished that were the case. That would have been an understandable and forgivable explanation for his absence. But Eric had told her no, and continued on to admit he was out late because he was getting tattoos, which then led into the confession that he had gotten a tattoo every year. As he spoke he could practically feel the outline of each of his mother’s tattoos etching into his skin. It would have been a much sweeter moment if he had been visiting his mother’s grave, instead he had been subjecting himself to physical pain in hopes of overriding the emotional, even if only for a few hours.

Eric now swallowed back an anxious lump in the back of his throat as he recalled admitting to Lizzie that he hadn’t gone to see his mother even once since the funeral. His love’s voice rang through his head again, ”I don’t think it was your fault.” But it was…and Eric had felt far too much guilt to ever brave going to see her. He didn’t deserve to be there—in fact he was too scared to be there. He had almost gone for her first anniversary, but he never made it out of his car. He had driven from Barking to Kensington after staying up all night unable to sleep and then just sat in his car trembling—that day ended with the butterfly inked across his torso: the beginning of his guilt ridden tradition. And Eric never once tried again to visit the cemetery.

When he eventually turned off the water and stepped out onto the bathmat, he very quickly realized his mistake in his impromptu decision to shower in that he had come to the bathroom unprepared. At least there was a towel, though it wasn’t his…but he hadn’t brought any clean clothes to change into. With a bit of a soft defeated sigh, Eric stepped commando back into his sweatpants and draped the towel over his bare shoulders to make the walk back to their bedroom. He’d much rather just face the cold than bother Lizzie to bring him his work clothes, after all she must be exhausted. He had kept her up all night and woken her up so early. He wanted to let her stay in bed and sleep in as long as she humanly could—

But when Eric stepped into their room he found it to be completely empty of Lizzie…although noises from the kitchen assured him she was at least still in the flat. In the back of his mind he had an idea what she was up to, but still Eric tried to convince himself into believing she was just grabbing herself a water and would be back any second now. It made him feel better thinking she was getting something for herself and not going out of her way for him.

By the time he was at least decent, Lizzie still hadn’t returned, and Eric had to force himself to accept that she wouldn’t go back to bed—least not while he was still home. His dress shirt covered his waist, having not yet tucked it into his pants. And the top few buttons were still left undone, revealing the cross around his neck, and the birds on his collarbones peeking out from the fabric. Eric had caught his reflection again, noting he at least looked less sickly than he had before his shower. But staring at himself in his uniform he couldn’t stop the dread welling up inside knowing he had to go to work while feeling like this. He would have to put on a mask, put up his walls and do everything he could to make it through the day…there was a tiny blip of a thought that considered not going. But that idea was promptly crushed with the reminder of how badly he needed the money, how he was already on thin ice at work after disappearing for weeks to work for Howard, and how it was his own fault he was even in this position to begin with so he needed to just deal with the consequences of his actions—or lack of. So after a second vigorous rough drying of his hair with the towel, he put it up in a messy damp bun to keep it off his shoulders and then left the bedroom to go see if he was right in what Lizzie had been up to while he was getting ready.

His bag and jacket were still on the floor where he dumped them last night, and Eric bent down to pick them up but his eyes quickly lifted from his belongings to find his love busy in the kitchen as he straightened back up and then moved over to her. Any other day he might have teasingly scolded her for not staying in bed or going back to sleep like he had told her to, but Eric was very much aware of the situation he had put them in and so besides not even having it in him to joke around, he understood the gravity of everything and that of course she couldn’t stay in bed knowing what state he was in. Of course she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to help in whatever form she could manage. And so of course she had boiled water for tea and toasted bread in hopes of getting something into him before he left.

Eric’s stomach flipped at the smells of breakfast; he was absolutely famished having not eaten since work yesterday and drinking all evening but his lack of an appetite was at war against him leaving Eric eyeing the plate with an uneasy desire, ”Lizzie...” His voice was weak, and her name was drawn out slowly with a tone of ‘you shouldn’t have’, but still he set his stuff down on the island to welcome her into his space when she approached. Again he fought off an apology that threatened to escape his lips, instead going silent in defeat, but his arms moved by muscle memory to make contact with Lizzie once she was in reach. Mentally, and emotionally he had shut down last night and his nap and shower had done little to restore him. But where before he had distanced himself, he now was intent on keeping her close, because Lizzie’s touch was the only thing he could feel that didn’t hurt.

In the end he forced his way through the toast for her, in between many sips of tea, and while their morning was much quieter than usual, Eric still engaged her in what light conversation she brought up. He was trying. He was making every conscious effort he could to do better for her, to be stronger than his demons. But after rummaging through his bag to make sure he had his wallet, Eric ended up pulling out his iPod and taking notice of numerous missed calls and texts. There were ones from Lizzie of course and his heart sank seeing them and knowing now how scared she must have been. But what had caught his eye was how many weren’t from her, ”...did you call Freddie?”

She had. And while Eric understood why, and he wasn’t upset with her at all for it, it was still just one more thing he had to deal with now…or later. He locked his iPod without texting his friend back, just a pained sigh as his hand moved to press against the residual headache that hadn’t been washed away with his shower. Lizzie was quick to offer to call him herself and clear things up, but Eric just shook his head slowly as he lowered his hand from his forehead, ”No it’s okay, I’ll talk to him later.”

”I’m sorry love,” He couldn’t hold it back any longer. The toast was churning in his stomach along with all his simmering guilt, regret and anxiety. He had thought he felt bad last night, but last night was nothing compared to now, the morning after and having the full understanding of how he had impacted her, ”I didn’t…”
He didn’t mean to hurt her. Or make her worry. But he did hurt her, and he did make her worry—he made her panic. And the absolute worst part was that she had every reason to. But Lizzie just softly shushed him before he could rattle off more apologies and they spent the remaining minutes of their time together in silence. It wasn’t tense or awkward though, it was a silence full of respect and understanding. One that gave space to the fact that everything was still very raw for the both of them, and that now wasn’t a good time to bring anything back up when Eric needed to leave soon. A silence that accepted they were both doing their best considering the situation and everything that had happened last night. It was a sad comfort just being in each other's company and soaking up every second knowing they would soon be separated for many hours.

When Eric did finally fix up his uniform and had finished getting ready the world outside was brightening as the rest of London began waking, but there still sat a gray and ominous darkness in the sky that honestly it looked like it would rain soon or snow.
“Text me when you get to work,” Eric paused before responding, his eyes holding her gaze and absorbing the concern that filled them, ”I will.” Everything still hurt. His eyes, his head, his chest, his stomach, his arms—everything. But Eric pushed through all that hurt so as to receive Lizzie’s love and her sendoff as he melted into her kiss in the doorway.

That kiss both vacated him the second he left and simultaneously was the only source of strength he could draw from throughout the day as he himself was still as empty and broken as the day before. True to his word, Eric had texted her once he safely made it to work, but after that he had to withdraw back into himself—to steel himself to be able to get through another day in the customer service industry. Another day of putting other people’s petty needs above his own basic survival. At least keeping busy and the stress of work was a strong enough distraction from his own. Here at work there was seemingly always something that needed to be done and so he was able to focus on things other than his own pain. But the dissociation only did so much. It didn’t make him feel any better, there was only one person who could do that and she was back at home and hopefully catching up on all the sleep he had deprived her of.

As it neared past the time for his lunch break, Eric had a decision to make. He of course naturally wanted to seek out Lizzie and make contact as they always did on his breaks. But there was a part of him that knew he didn’t deserve her and her comfort—that felt he deserved to suffer in silence and that he shouldn’t bother her when she was probably still upset enough without him continuing to add to it. But he was also dead on his feet and he was half tempted to just work through his break because he was afraid if he sat down that he wouldn’t be able to get back up and make it through the rest of his shift.

In the end he was leaning towards just that, to keep working without a break. Because as addicted as he was to his love, five years of self sabotage was stronger than Lizzie’s five months of influence since she first walked into his life.

”Oi, Eric!”

Now what? He turned to walk back down the hall to where his coworker had called to him from the front lobby, trying to find the strength to mentally prepare for whatever situation he was getting dragged into. But it was hard to care about anything right now. There was only one person he cared about—and Eric’s expression both lit up and fell as she came into view once he entered the room. On one hand he was so relieved to see her. He had missed her every second since he left the flat early that morning, and Eric was nearing a point that he didn’t think he could fake it through the rest of his day. He needed her. But at the same time, seeing Lizzie now brought up a huge rush of regret. Regret for yesterday, for last night, for having not taken his break sooner to message her—Eric was far from finished with blaming himself for everything. But with Lizzie here in front of him now he could feel his knees weaken and his fingertips twitch wanting so desperately to sink himself into her and to just disappear into the world they created together where it was just the two of them and nothing else mattered. A world where pain didn’t exist and where nothing and no one could take either of them away from the other.

It was a relief to see her when Eric had otherwise been torturing himself by refusing to allow himself access to her. And after the initial shock and panic wore off, Eric could feel himself drawn in towards Lizzie. Anything else his coworker said flew over his head, all of his focus was on his love and how much he wanted to just collapse there in her arms. But Eric hesitantly stood his ground, teetering the line of professionalism with how he knew better than to go to her in the capacity that he craved. There were a million things he could say but in the end all Eric could manage to coordinate was a small, ”Hi,” quickly followed by an attempt at ”...what’re you doing here?” As his concern overrode all the serotonin that her presence alone had brought him.​

​

 

[feelsHASkilig]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ELIZABETH DARCY aka LIZZIE ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122818-----------❖ LOCATION — hotel - employee breakroom-----------❖ COMPANY — eric
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
---WHY'D YOU HAVE TO BE SO CUTE -------- IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE YOU -------- WHY MUST YOU MAKE ME LAUGH SO MUCH

Uneasiness ate at Lizzie long after Eric left for work. It hadn’t lessened or settled since she watched him leave the flat. In fact, she could argue that it was only getting worse the longer she sat distracted in the common room. Not even the open manuscript resting on her lap could save her from the unnerving anxiousness she felt now that Eric was no longer in her sights. With a huffed out exhale, she finally acknowledged that this was not healthy for her and she needed to do something about it before it did even more harm.

But, like, why did twenty some minutes feel so damn long right now?? Surely Eric should be at work by now??

After a whole morning feeling nothing but anxious and worried, it was impossible for Lizzie to go back to sleep. No amount of effort she put into simply closing her eyes and hoping sleep would come paid off. In the end, she gave up on trying to get some sleep and decided that if she was going to find some way to clear her head and her heart, the pool was the best place to go. She could always rely on swimming laps to escape her…problems.

Since today’s weather forecast predicted rain all day—with the potential for snow—Lizzie decided to take an Uber to the pool and was there in half the time it usually takes when taking the bus. She honestly wasn’t surprised to find the gym practically empty. The only other members were the regulars she has learned to recognize now that she was coming on a near daily basis. After a quick greeting to the employee at the front desk, she went straight to the locker room to drop off her things and change into her swimsuit.

As soon as she took that first dive into the water, Lizzie knew that she wasn’t going to get the reprieve she initially thought she would. Don’t get her wrong, she still found relief focusing on her breathing and keeping consistent pace with her strokes. However, what she hadn’t been prepared for was her worries about Eric swimming along with her across the pool. After letting her know that he had arrived at the hotel, she hadn’t heard from him ever since. Not even during his first break. A part of her constantly had to remind her that it was still the holiday season. His hotel was surely going to be very busy with all the visitors staying there. He likely was hardly going to find much time to sit down and tell her about how his day was going. But, still, she recalled how exhausted he looked leaving the flat this morning. Even a simple “I’m doing ok” message would have made her feel a little better.

With each broad stroke that cut through the water’s surface, scenes from last night replayed in Lizzie’s head. Last night was definitely heavy. Never before had she gone through something so emotionally taxing. Not to say that Lizzie regretted it. Just…there was a point as she kicked off the wall to start the next lap that she considered that maybe Eric was right in keeping everything he told her a secret. If listening to his confessions and stories last night was too much for her, she couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him to actually share them. She could only guess that this was probably the first time he ever spoke about such details regarding his mother since her death.

After four full laps across the pool, Lizzie finally lifted her head over the water’s surface and took a deep breath full of air. She winced slightly, rolling her bad shoulder a couple times to loosen away the soreness. She hadn’t realized until she stopped that she was at the brink of over exerting herself; threatening to anger her old injury. It was just that she got so distracted by last night that her mind was too busy multitasking between making sure she still kept steady breaths with each stroke and worrying still about Eric. As she floated close to the wall, she realized that while the laps had done some good on the emotional heaviness that lingered from last night, it hadn’t helped her with her constant thoughts about Eric. She just could not escape how much she worried about him now that he was no longer with her.

With a deep, defeated sigh, Lizzie took one quick glance at her stopwatch to memorize her time then pulled herself out of the pool. If anything else could come out of this visit to the gym, at least she got to work out for about an hour to get the blood flowing during this cold winter day. Also, she had a sort of plan. It wasn’t exactly a plan to help “fix” whatever was going on with Eric, but it was something of a start to the best possible path to at least survive it.

An instant shiver ran through Lizzie’s spine as she stepped through the front door into the flat. Even after only being gone for an hour, the flat was freezing. Then again, London was rather bitingly cold today. Not even the extra layers and the heater from her Uber driver’s car could help her manage the trip back home from the gym. As she slowly removed her multiple layers during her walk down the hallway back to her bedroom, Lizzie muttered to herself her next plan of action now that she was home. Much of said muttering was the self motivation to follow through with said plan. After all, it was no easy feat to call up your older sister as a lifeline to help save your relationship.

After changing back into home clothes and burying herself into her bed while she waited for the poor performing central heating to do its best, Lizzie found herself taking detours in her plans. First, despite Eric insisting that he would deal with it, Lizzie reached out to Freddie to give him an update. Since last night he had left her a good handful of text messages to check in. She felt terrible having left him as much in the dark as Eric had to her last night. But, in all fairness, she did have her hands full making sure that Eric and their relationship didn’t implode into something totally unsalvageable. Instead of simply responding back to the text messages, Lizzie called Freddie back and offered him as much of an update as she can manage without sharing too much information that she knew was only for her to know. Luckily, she did enough by the time she ended her call with him. One task down.

Lizzie’s hands were shaking as she stared at Emma’s name on her phone. However, she was wondering why the hell her sister was even online so late in the evening. It was definitely a shock to see that she was potentially awake. When she initially committed to the idea of talking to Emma about Eric, she thought she would simply send a message letting her sister know she needed to talk to her and then wait until it was morning time back in the states. And yet, here she was, staring at her sister’s online status on Facebook Messenger knowing full well it was definitely past midnight back in the west coast. So either Emma had herself a busy schedule the next morning, or it was one of those rough nights with Liam. There was only one way to find out.

Emma didn’t take long to respond to her message requesting that they talk. As soon as it was indicated that her sister read her message, Lizzie’s phone vibrated and she was staring at Emma’s profile picture. Her heart was racing knowing that once she accepted this call, there was no going back on her plans. For the briefest moment, Lizzie continued to stare at her sister’s picture while she was filled with regret that she thought this was going to help her. After all, what right did she have to air out Eric’s history like this? Was there even a way to go around asking for help without sharing too much of what she was trusted to keep between them? There had to be a way. She would never betray Eric’s trust like that. But she still needed help.

“Hey! Sorry to reach out so late…” Lizzie started. Her words came out jumbled in her mouth from how much she was shaking with nervousness. She could guarantee that Emma picked up on it.

“Liz? Is everything okay?”

Lizzie took a deep, calming breath. It was now or never. She needed to remind herself why she was doing this in the first place. “Not really… But I wanted to ask something first?” She waited until she was certain Emma was listening completely. “What was it like for you and Jane when Mom died? Like, what was it really like? Unabridged and all….”

A heaviness weighed on Lizzie as she quietly sat in the back seat of yet another Uber. This time, she was riding into the city. It hadn’t been her plan to do so at first. She had every intention of giving Eric his space so that it didn’t feel like she was smothering him with her worrying. Or even worse, making it seem as if she no longer trusted him. But the truth was, after her long—and honestly emotionally draining—conversation with Emma, she needed to see him. While she would never say that she understood Eric better now after her talk with her sister, what she can say is that she no longer felt overwhelmed and unprepared by the level of empathy she needed to extend to Eric to prove to him that he wasn’t alone in his grief. Coming out of that talk, Lizzie felt more prepared to extend her hand out to him to help share the burden he has been carrying for years.

Before she could make her way to the hotel, however, Lizzie had a couple errands to run while she was in the city. The first was to get them food to eat. It had crossed her mind while she was preparing to leave the flat to go to Eric that she could simply buy them lunch at the bistro connected to the hotel. However, she was immediately convinced that it wasn’t the smartest move. Surely, even though the food at the bistro was good, Eric didn’t want something that reminded him of work. He would probably want something that would help him think only of them. Maybe then he would have some motivation to eat something—if breakfast this morning (and her talk with Emma) was any indication that he currently didn’t have much of an appetite. So all that put into consideration, Lizzie decided to go to Grangers to get them something to eat for his lunch.

Her second errand was along the way to the hotel. It took a lot of Yelp and Google Maps searching to find the best one that met both criterias of being exactly what she was looking for while on the way to the hotel from Grangers. She just couldn’t fathom the thought of having to take multiple Ubers once she was in the city. Once she gathered multiple locations and cross checked them with the train route to the hotel, she pinned the location of the flower shop that met her criteria and pulled up the transit directions on her phone to ensure she didn’t get lost. It was just too cold today for that possibility.

When she arrived at the flower shop, Lizzie was well-prepared to provide the shop owner the exact details of the bouquet she wanted to order. Much of her ride into the city was spent digging back to the conversation she had with Eric about his mother’s favorite flowers. She started with his stories about his mother’s time during and after working at the flower shop that was once in Barking until last night when he told her of every flower he gave her that would make her smile. Lizzie couldn’t guarantee that she had recalled every flower mentioned, but she knew which ones were actually her favorite.

As it was the holidays, Lizzie was warned that she would be expected to wait for her order to be fulfilled if it was a same day order. She was fine with this since she would be spending at least a couple hours in the city. After giving her phone number and being told the approximate wait time, Lizzie paid for the bouquet order and was finally off to the hotel. A quick look at the time told her that she didn’t have much time left before his lunch started. Once she tightened the scarf around her neck to better keep warm, Lizzie gripped their bag of food tightly in her hands and sped off to the hotel.

By the time she finally made it to the hotel, Lizzie was in a bit of a panic that she might have missed Eric’s lunch. She hadn’t anticipated the train being so delayed. Worse yet, she was worried that their food was getting cold. As she slipped off her scarf and gloves, Lizzie looked around the hotel lobby for any sign of Eric. She was surprised to find the lobby rather busy with guests and visitors. She figured it had something to do with the weather. There was no escaping London’s winter, but with the potential for snow today, she figured guests were at least warned to try to stay as warm as possible during their stay. However, this made it slightly harder for her to look for Eric.

Eventually she had to give up on trying to find him on her own. After a couple minutes of scoping out current staff, she finally flagged one down that didn’t look too awfully busy and braved asking for Eric. All it took was giving her name to get the ball moving fairly quickly. She was just in the process of taking off her coat when she heard Eric’s name being hollered out. Yes, hollered.

Her heart leapt in her chest knowing that he was nearby. It was while she looked up to follow the direction Eric’s co-worker was looking that she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had missed him. Well, of course she missed him. There was no time when they were apart that she didn’t miss him and wished to have him back at her side. But the past couple days was just a whole other level of torture for Lizzie. As her eyes narrowed in on him among the sea of work uniforms, her memory flashed back to last night: when they were together in bed.

Lizzie couldn’t sleep while she was worried sick about Eric. She felt guilty for making him stay up as late as she had last night while they were talking about his mother. She hadn’t meant to lose track of time like she had. It was because of that guilt that she was determined to make sure he had at least a couple hours of sleep before he needed to go to work. Because God only knows that he hadn’t gotten much of it during the past couple of days. So as tired as she was after everything they both went through, Lizzie forced herself to stay awake by focusing intently on lulling him to sleep. While she brushed her fingers tenderly through his hair and scratched gentle massages against his scalp, she stared at the dark wall behind him as ”Come back to me…” escaped her lips in a soft whisper. By then, Eric’s breathing had steadied. He hadn’t responded back to her confession.

As Eric looked on at her with obvious confusion over why she was here, Lizzie quickly pushed aside the deep longing and unbearable urge to bring him into her arms to smile brightly up at him. “Surprise!” she greeted with a giggle. “I had to run a couple errands here in the city and I, like, kind of had this brilliant idea to come visit you instead of going straight home.” She took a subtle glance over at Eric’s co-worker, wondering if her cheeriness was believable enough to hide the tension between them.

Even now, as she stared up at her love and knew deep down he missed her as much as she missed him, he still felt distant; far away and barred from her. It took every fiber of her being to stop herself from taking the last few steps to close the distance between them. She wasn’t much for blatant public displays of affection, but the urge to just grab him by the front of his perfectly buttoned work shirt to kiss him was strong. Instead, she focused intently on her tight grip on their food. Which reminded her….

“Anywayyy, I hope you haven’t had lunch yet? I thought we might eat together? I bought Grangers!” She lifted up the bag, making sure to cover her white knuckle grip with her coat. “It might need to be heated up some though. It’s hella cold outside.”

With permission from Eric’s coworker—who happens to also be a supervisor—Lizzie followed him into the break room. They got a couple looks when they entered, but afterwards were left alone. Lizzie took a seat far away from the rest of the staff currently on break. She watched as Eric carried their take away containers to the other side of the break room to reheat the food. For the most part, she never took her eyes off of him. Even now she was wrestling with the previous urge to convey to him just how much she missed him. Surely then his co-workers would have an issue with her being there.

More than that though, she was also finding any and every excuse to distract her thoughts as they were right now tossing and turning over the prospect of having to tell him exactly what her errands in the city were. She knew her heart was in the right place to do what she planned on doing. That, however, did not stop the dark part of her mind from reminding her that she was potentially overstepping her boundaries of the new knowledge she acquired. There was that possibility that Eric would get downright upset with her once she revealed why she really was in the city.

But for now, she was going to enjoy this lunch hour with her love like nothing was terribly wrong.

The problem was that her nerves just took control with zero regard to her efforts. It started when Lizzie became hyper aware that Eric was still not eating much. He immediately caught on to her disappointment before she even had the chance to hide it. But apparently there was more than just disappointment on her face and he was quick to check in on her.

Lizzie blinked away from his barely touched lunch to meet his gaze. Her chest tightened upon realizing the usual butterflies weren’t around. Instead, as she looked into his eyes, Lizzie felt the lonely longingness intensify. She couldn’t help wondering when this would all be over; if this was going to ever be over.

She sighed deeply, stabbing at her food as she tried to find the right thing to say. She knew she couldn’t lie to him. He would never believe her. So her only option was to offer a level of truth that he might be able to handle.

“Would it be okay if I stay in the hotel for a bit? I won’t get in your way of your work or anything like that.” Lizzie looked up at Eric again. “I brought my work with me so I’ll keep myself busy. We can go home together when you get off.”

“I just…” She sighed again. “I don’t think I can wait for you at home…not today.”

Her leg shook under their table. The whole truth was boiling inside of her, but she didn’t feel ready to tell him. Especially not while he looked at her with worry that practically mirrored her own. There was already too much guilt between the two of them for her to add even more and tip the scales.

But the real truth was, Lizzie knew she had to tell him. Her whole conversation with Emma led her to this very moment. She just struggled to keep a firm grasp of her courage long enough to follow through with her plans.

She stuffed a fork full of her food into her mouth, chewing slowly and methodically to offer herself time to mull things over. She had to tell him. It was the only way she could execute her plan today. Sure, she technically could follow through with her plans via another method (i.e. Olivia), but Eric was the right way. But she struggled over what if scenarios, scaring herself more and more. What if he closed himself off from her again? What if he refused? What if…what if he got so mad at her that he left?

Lizzie bit the inside of her cheek as she allowed herself one more moment to think things through. This was her one chance. And just like her need for a lifeline through Emma, this was now or never.

“Eric?” she started slowly, returning her gaze to him. “There’s another reason I might need to stay in the hotel for a bit.” She waited until he gave her his undivided attention. “Before I tell you the truth, I just want to let you know that you are in no way obligated to come with me. I can promise you that. But…” She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. “I’ve been giving it some thought…and…I’d like to visit your mom today. It’s just that, like, I kept thinking about how I visit my mom for her death anniversaries every year. I would like to extend that tradition to yours, even though I missed her anniversary. I passed by a flower shop on the way here and ordered a bouquet of some of her favorite flowers; at least the ones I could remember you mentioning. Obviously with the holidays they’re a little busy for same day orders, but they assured me that they could do it so long as I wait a bit.”

“Again,” Lizzie continued quickly, “you don’t have to come with me if you’re not ready. But, I would appreciate it if you could tell me where she was laid to rest? You only mentioned last night that your grandparents buried her in Kensington.” ​

 

[JINFINITE]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ERIC JAMES OLIVER ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122818-----------❖ LOCATION — brompton cemetery-----------❖ COMPANY — lizzie...and mum?
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
---TRULY MADLY DEEPLY I AM -------- FOOLISHLY COMPLETELY FALLING -------- AND SOMEHOW YOU KICKED ALL MY WALLS IN

As if Lizzie’s surprise visit hadn’t already thrown him for a loop, as she brought up her plans to visit his mother’s grave, Eric was hit with a barrage of intense, confusing and conflicting emotions. He had told her just last night that he hadn’t visited his mother since her funeral, and here she was telling him that she wanted to go herself. Eric just stared back in silence for a minute as he first processed what she was saying, ran through every single possible scenario in his head, and then lastly tried to determine how he felt about it all. Because even though it was very much still a work in progress, the most recent lesson around sharing his feelings was still so fresh the wounds started to bleed just thinking about it and the last thing he wanted to do was revert back to his usual habits. He wanted to do better for Lizzie—he wanted to be better for Lizzie.

He was clearly growing anxious at the topic though, glancing to his coworkers on the other side of the room before his gaze dropped to the edge of the table to avoid any and all eye contact with Lizzie for the moment while he grasped blindly within himself for literally anything that could keep him afloat through whatever this conversation would put him through. He had abandoned his food for the time being, his hands dropping into his lap as he stole a nervous glance across at his love.

Did he want her to go to the cemetery alone? No. Did he want to go with her? Also no, in fact an even bigger no. But could he find the words to tell her? Once again, no. Eric didn’t have it in him to tell her no, he never could. He had worked so hard to keep his mother out of their relationship, he had even explicitly told Lizzie that he didn’t want his mother around them…but still Lizzie asked—no, she’d decided on her own.

His hands fiddled together in his lap, pushing at a hangnail and trying to distract himself from the heavy conversation lingering between them, ”Um…”
Eric knew that if he said no she would respect his wishes, but that wasn’t quite what was eating at him this time. Rather it was this unexpected sensation of feeling…cheated? Betrayed? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about Lizzie asking for the address to the cemetery and having already ordered flowers both without having consulted him first just didn’t sit well with him. In fact if he were to be honest, it hurt. Likely it was in part just the overwhelming nature of the topic at hand. He was mentally very sensitive right now—fragile even, and it made everything feel at least ten times stronger. But a part of Eric felt trampled on with how she had made this decision without him, and no matter what he told himself it didn’t lessen the bitterness of it.

Would he share these feelings with her though? No, probably not. Not here at work at least. Not while he was so caught off guard—maybe that was it. Maybe he wasn’t upset with Lizzie for her decision, but just that he hadn’t been prepared for this conversation here of all places. He had left the flat that morning thinking he would be free from the heaviness he had drowned them both in, only for it to follow him not only to work but now afterwards as well. But regardless of the origin of his feelings, the fact was that they were directing themselves at Lizzie when the last thing he wanted to do was be upset with her, especially after everything that had happened between them last night.

He inhaled slowly, not realizing until now that he hadn’t taken a proper breath.

The Eric of two months ago would have immediately shut her out. He probably would have snapped at her unfairly and might have even walked out. Hell even the Eric of yesterday would have. But the Eric of today was too tired, too anxious and too scared to react to that scale. Not to mention his poor attempts to be a better person for his love…so Eric stayed silent as he continued to mull over everything and try to pull himself back out of the hole he’d been digging.

She had specifically said that he didn’t have to go with her, she just wanted the address and location of where to find the grave, but still Eric was frozen at the prospect of it all. If he were to be completely honest he didn’t want Lizzie to go. He had tried so hard to keep her away from the darkest parts of his life but here she was willingly walking straight into it without even a match to light her way. But she had said he didn’t have to go….he didn’t have to go. She was prepared to go alone, this was something she wanted to do. And Eric knew it was important to her just off the fact she brought it up at all. They had been through enough hard conversations that Eric trusted Lizzie’s judgment on things. He knew she would do everything in her power to not overstep herself and not push him for more than he could give. Afterall she always respected his boundaries, it was Eric that was constantly dragging them back into it all with his inability to keep secrets or let things go. So why was he hesitating? He knew he should let her take the lead on this. Let her do whatever she wanted if it would help her handle it all. He owed her that much at least. Especially since he didn’t need to go with her.

Had he waited too long to say anything? Eric glanced up to her again when she shifted in her seat, seemingly ready to speak up after watching him struggle for the past minute, ”Brompton…she’s at Brompton Cemetery…“ He spoke slowly, as though the words had to be pulled from his mouth like teeth. But the darkness that had visibly taken over at the first mention of his mother was also lightening now as Eric slowly won himself back from the past with the first step being to find his voice. Except the darkness still left a shadow of defeat cast across his face as he accepted that he would never win. Lizzie was quick to pick up on his discomfort as she started to assure him that she wouldn’t go if he wasn’t okay with it.

”—no.” And there it was, his typical interjections that cut Lizzie off before she could finish her sentence. Because try as he might, Eric could only keep his frustrations at bay for so long, ”It’s fine I just…I don’t want to go. “ He wanted to apologize for snapping at her, but this wasn’t like other times when he knew he was in the wrong. This was a reaction to multiple days worth of pain that had been eating him up inside and he wasn’t currently strong enough to filter and check himself. But with the silent pause between them that followed, Eric’s apology did try to stumble out as he hid his face in his hands momentarily to press at his temples in an attempt to ease both the stress and pain that came from running on virtually no sleep. Try being the keyword as he now cut himself off before the word “sorry” could make a sound.

He was trapped. Stuck between his incessant need to apologize for all of his mistakes and his very existence, but then hearing Lizzie’s sharp words from last night in his head cruelly reminding him that all he ever did was say that he was sorry.

His hands were quick to continue on to run through his hair while a frustrated sigh escaped him. Why did this have to be so difficult!? He knew Lizzie only had the very best of intentions, but Eric had lost so much of himself over the past couple days since Christmas that he was having a hard time accepting what should have been a thoughtful gesture from his love.

As much as he didn’t want anything to do with it though, Eric didn’t want to scare her off from her plan on account of his own trauma and he forced his hands back to his lap and willed his eyes to meet hers in an attempt to show his sincerity without any mention of the forbidden words “I’m sorry”.

”I can take you after work.”

In the end, Eric was unable to finish his food in the remaining time of his lunch break. He had completely lost his already poor appetite, but Lizzie assured him it was alright and they could just bring it home to eat later. If he would even be able to eat later…
They were finally alone in the breakroom as Eric cleared their table, packing up the unfinished food to store in the fridge for the remaining hours of his shift. Lizzie hovered nearby, not knowing the layout of the room to be able to help but not wanting to leave him on his own. However when it came time to leave Eric faltered at the door. He couldn’t leave things how they were. All of lunch was replaying in his head and the guilt was chewing him up inside, not that he had even done anything wrong, ”Love I didn't mean to—“

Her hand quickly found Eric’s and her touch immediately quieted him as she moved to stand directly in front of him, her voice soft as she reassured him that he hadn’t hurt or upset her earlier and she understood he hadn’t meant to be short with her, ”I know.”
Eric had technically already overstayed his break by a couple minutes being unwilling—no, unable to leave Lizzie and return to work. And now that she was in his immediate bubble it was even harder knowing that he couldn’t just stay wrapped up with her. She wouldn’t be able to follow him everywhere he went to keep him calm and present. She wouldn’t be able to whisper words of love in his ear or run her fingers over his skin and through his hair.

As soon as he opened the breakroom door he would have to turn his personality back on. The exhausting customer service persona that he relied on to get through his days at work would take over and everything he cared about would get pushed to the back of his mind. At least, that was how it usually worked. But Eric had a sinking feeling that this time he wouldn’t be able to use work as his escape. This time the emotional baggage was too heavy to be able to push aside and ignore, and that was why it was so extra hard to leave Lizzie’s side when she had been diligently trying her best to help ease the load.

Her hand squeezed his, bringing him back from the loop of dread he’d been trapped in and pulling all of his focus down to her like she was gravity itself. That was all it took to reel Eric back in. All of a sudden they were no longer in the breakroom while he was on the clock at work. The semi risk of where they were flew over his head as he leaned down to meet her for a kiss, after all this was far from being the first time he had kissed her in public. But public displays of affection were their own thing, and doing so while at work fell into a slightly different category. That didn’t matter to Eric right now though. He needed this and his kiss easily gave away his desperation for her. For them. For things to feel right again. Because in the past five years since his mother’s death Eric had only found two things strong enough to numb his guilt and grief: overwhelming his senses with more pain via hours upon hours of intricate tattoos…and then Lizzie, who not only took away his pain but granted him forgiveness and showered him in a love he had been lacking his entire life.

Unfortunately for Eric, the rest of his shift turned rather busy after lunch. Normally that could be interpreted as being a good thing because it meant that time would pass quicker and he would be able to leave soon to go home and reunite with his love. But today his love was here and it was torture everytime he passed by her. It wasn’t like he had to ignore her and pretend she wasn’t there, Eric would make eye contact and return a small smile when he could, but he was constantly on the move and kept bustling back and forth. Lizzie was more a relief than a distraction despite him choosing to go the long way to get places just to have the excuse to see her, but the last hour and a half of his shift kept him mostly confined upstairs and the distance gradually knocked him back down to wallow in his depression.

His mental and emotional state must have been clear as day to Lizzie when he finally returned to her at the end of his shift. The first thing she did was offer again to cancel her plans if he didn’t want her to go to the cemetery, but Eric didn’t hesitate for a single second and immediately insisted that it was fine. It wasn’t exactly that he was lying, but the truth was that he very much wanted to take her up on canceling so that they could just go home and enjoy the rest of the day together. He knew she knew that though. They were both well aware that he was pushing himself to his limits for her, but it was Lizzie who had to walk the tightrope of knowing just how far to let him go. In Eric’s case in particular there was a very fine line between growing as a person and self sabotage, and he was unable to recognize the difference.

”I didn’t drive today and it will probably take about an hour to get there by metro,” his warning was irrelevant though. A poor excuse to try and steer her away from following through on this despite having just told her that he was okay with it all. He knew the time would not phase her though. It would be almost an identical commute as getting to her school in Westminster or the theatre his troupe rehearsed in. But Lizzie said it was okay and went on to remind him that she wanted to stop and pick up the flowers she had ordered earlier that day. A part of Eric wanted to ask why she didn’t go get them while she had been waiting around the hotel, but he was quick to remind himself that a) the flowers would stay fresher the longer they stayed with the florist. And b) she had stayed for him, and he was very thankful she had.

It was difficult to say whether or not he was relieved to finally leave work as they headed out hand in hand. He was finally able to be alone with Lizzie, just like what he had wanted all day long. But knowing where they were going sucked all sense of joy from his soul leaving him both emotionally dulled and mentally on edge. Lizzie was enough of a distraction to at least keep his mother tucked away in the back of his mind for most of the journey, but as they left the flower shop with all his mother’s favorite flowers clutched to Lizzie’s chest it started to become too real for Eric.

Was he really going back to the cemetery after five years of hiding from his mother? No, he was just making sure Lizzie got there safely. He would leave her at the gate and go smoke nearby or something to wait for her to be done. But each step they took brought out more and more of his anxieties over it all. He couldn’t stop thinking about it all. The funeral from five years ago was playing on a loop in his head, and the likeness of Lizzie’s bouquet to the flowers that were tossed on his mother’s casket made his chest burn when he tried to swallow and find his voice when Lizzie asked him—

”It’s snowing!”
Eric instantly forgot what she had asked as Lizzie lit up realizing that the clouds were sprinkling snowflakes. They both stopped dead in their tracks, Lizzie fully fascinated by the frozen white fluffs and Eric in turn fixated on her.
”Here…” After watching her struggle with holding his hand, the flowers and clearly wanting to fish her phone out, Eric reached to pluck the bouquet from her and released her hand to let her fully experience and react to her first London snow.

Personally Eric hated snow—well, no that wasn’t entirely true. Hate was too strong a word to use in this instance. But after living homeless for the better part of five years he had grown to dread the days that covered the city in slick ice and snow. It made it hard to get around, and it was already cold sleeping in his car as it was. The addition of snow just made everything worse. He had quickly learned to find work and stay busy during the winter months. Originally that meant in someone’s bed with a roof over his head…and later it was pooling all his time and energy into the hotel just to have an excuse to stay indoors. But even before, snow had always complicated his life. The heating in their little flat in Barking was unreliable, and being that his mother was even less reliable, Eric was always tasked with taking out the bins, shoveling the driveway, walking to the shops for groceries. Life never stopped for Eric and snow always hindered things. He never got to experience fun with snow. He was never mesmerized the way Lizzie was now…but his mother had been.

”…Eric?” Had he wandered too deep in his memories? Eric blinked to refocus on Lizzie who had even taken the flowers back from him by now. He could see she was teetering between wanting to ask if he was okay or moving on as though she hadn’t just watched him slip back in time.

There was something almost angelic about Lizzie now as he watched the concern return to her face. Her cheeks pink from the cold, framed by the flowers at her chest and the snow flecks landing on her dark hair for seconds before melting from the warmth she forever radiated. She made him feel safe, and allowed him the time and space to decide how to respond. She didn’t pressure him to either spill his thoughts or force him to continue on their way. Lizzie just patiently waited for him to return to her, because he always did.

”My mum loved the snow.”
Even when she was too high to recognize him, she would still point out the fact that it was snowing. She would go stand in it severely underdressed and Eric would bring her robe out to her. Snowy days were almost always her good days, and it would hurt because while Eric wanted so badly to enjoy having his mother back for however long it lasted, he more often than not had to be the adult between them and go to work. Or do chores. Or go to school. The snow always brought his mother back to him and simultaneously pulled him further away from her. And so Eric had grown to hate the snow.

Luckily the snow didn’t interfere with the rest of their trip, but it was definitely coming down by the time they came to a stop in front of the northern entrance to Brompton Cemetery. It wasn’t hard or stormy. It didn’t hinder their visibility, but it was leaving a thin layer of white on the ground and everything it touched.

A moment passed of them standing in silence side by side; likely both working up the courage for what came next. It was Lizzie who made the first move by trying to pull her hand free to initiate goodbyes, not wanting him to have to stay any longer than he could bear. But Eric’s grip just tightened in response and in turn highlighting that he was trembling and not just from the cold.

He was scared. He was uncomfortable. He did not want to be here. He didn’t want Lizzie to go. But he didn’t want her to abandon her plan on account of him, not after they had come all this way already.

There was a cafe by the entryway and he glanced anxiously over to it in search of a reprieve from the pressure of both his mother’s ghost and Lizzie’s eyes. A repressed memory infiltrated his thoughts, one from the day of the funeral. He had been so angry that day and he remembered how much it hurt to see people enjoying their days and taking pictures of the “scenic cemetery” behind their coffee cups. It felt like the entire world had carried on without him while he was experiencing Groundhog's Day, forever trapped in December 27th and suffering alone.

But he wasn’t alone anymore.

Eric could feel Lizzie’s thumb rubbing over the back of his hand, trying to give him some level of comfort whilst still giving him his space to have his own experiences. She didn’t try to intervene in his obvious discomfort. She didn’t try to distract him or tell him it would all be okay. Instead she simply stayed with him, ready to leave if he asked, or to hold him if he asked.

But Eric didn’t ask for either of those things. He didn’t ask for anything. Without a single word he just led the way towards the open gates, his hand desperately holding Lizzie’s as though everything would crumble to dust if he didn’t.

For having not come in five years, and being so absent and broken the day of the funeral, it was amazing how easily Eric brought them to the site of his mother’s grave. She was the only headstone in this particular little plot of land. It was space that had been purchased for the family, for his grandparents specifically. But what a cruel twist that they had to bury their daughter there first. And almost their grandson….

Eric hadn’t stopped shaking, the degree of it fluctuated with his emotions. Like how outside by the gates he had been scared, it was more of a soft tremor. But now as he read the words engraved on his mother’s headstone he found himself growing angry again. Angry with the world, with his family, but most of all with himself.

It was all his fault.

“I can’t remember what she looked like…anytime I—all I can see is her lying on the kitchen floor.”
Even as he spoke his mother’s lifeless body sprawled across the tiles was all he could think about. Especially now as he stared down at her name carved into the headstone of her grave.

‘In Loving Memory
Anne Oliver
Beloved daughter and mother.’

He couldn’t think of any “loving memories”, the only thing he could remember was the way he had found her. Her arms and legs had been at odd angles, as though she had been seizing and struggling to breathe. Her face was in a pool of her own bile and her glazed eyes stared up at him without a single glint of recognition.

Eric’s fingernails dug painfully into his palms in a simultaneous effort to both ground and distract him as his mind just replayed his mother’s last few days on Earth, “ ’I don’t want to fucking hear it’….that was the last thing I ever said to her…” Eric’s guilt had circled back around to relieve his fears, sadness and anger from their posts, and it left a tightness in his chest that made it hard to take a full breath. He didn’t have anything left in him to feel more complex emotions, he was just crushed. Defeated. Broken. Shattered. Done.

”…and then the next time I saw her she—“

For five years he had been too scared to come to the cemetery. And now that he was here…nothing. There was no feeling of forgiveness or acceptance. Being here didn’t suddenly lighten the load. He didn’t feel better finally visiting his mother. It was honestly so anticlimactic that Eric wanted to bang his head against the headstone for allowing himself to have ever thought that coming here would make even the slightest difference. Telling Lizzie everything that he had last night had given him a false sense of security and relief. But now that he was here it just further confirmed that he was right. He shouldn’t have come. He didn’t deserve to be here. The only time he would have been welcomed back would have been if he were being lowered into the ground beside his mother…​

​

 

[feelsHASkilig]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ELIZABETH DARCY aka LIZZIE ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122818-----------❖ LOCATION — the flat - common room-----------❖ COMPANY — eric
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
---WHY'D YOU HAVE TO BE SO CUTE -------- IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE YOU -------- WHY MUST YOU MAKE ME LAUGH SO MUCH

Lizzie let out a low hiss as pain shot from her shoulder. She switched her phone to her other hand as an attempt to prevent herself from any more unexpected movements. It was just that she was so excited about the first snowfall she completely forgot that her shoulder was still recovering from the last couple days.

She hoped Eric hadn’t noticed. With everything happening with him since Christmas, she hadn’t found the best time to tell him about her bad shoulder. A part of her suspected that he would use her old injury to distract himself from what all he was feeling now. And while she was unsure if such a strategy was a good thing or a bad one, she didn’t want to risk testing it. So she paid close attention to how she moved her bad shoulder—not including a moment ago—and tried to make as few movements with it as possible.

When she turned to look at Eric, Lizzie noticed that she had lost him. Not exactly in a bad way, but she knew now what it looked like when he got lost in thought—or maybe this time around it was a memory? One thing was for sure though, he was most definitely thinking about his mother. The sadness in his expression ran far too deep to be about anything other than her. So she gave him a minute, just one minute to sink into whatever pain he must be feeling as he gazed at the snowflakes falling around him. She knew that he knew she would be right there if he needed her to listen or to simply be there for him.

As she pocketed her phone in her coat pocket, Lizzie wondered just how deep his grief ran over his mother’s death. With all that she knew now about the event, she knew that it was much more than the grief both Jane and Emma felt over their mother’s passing. The circumstances were completely different, but the main difference was the ability to mourn and move past it. Her older sisters not only had time to grieve and then heal from their mother’s death, but also the support system and safe space. Eric, on the other hand, had none of those. Instead he plunged headfirst into unwanted and unwarranted distractions with no time or room to grieve.

Lizzie once more cursed that God awful monster for the horrors he put Eric through.

For the rest of the trip to the cemetery, Lizzie did almost all of the talking. It wasn’t so much that she felt uncomfortable with the tension. It was more so that she wanted to get a read on how Eric was feeling the closer they got to the cemetery. She repeated herself numerous times that he did not have to accompany her. He told her earlier on the train the directions to his family’s plot and so she was more than fine going alone. But Eric wasn’t having it; he was more insistent on going with her. At which point Lizzie didn’t have it in her to tell him otherwise. So she kept talking, mostly about possible options for how they could go about this trip. It wasn’t lost on Lizzie that he was probably picking up on how she tried to think up many ways to give him an out should he need it.

Before she knew it, they had arrived at their final destination. Lizzie had been so concerned with Eric the entire trip to the cemetery that she hadn’t realized until they finally stopped that Eric was the one that led them most of the way. But even as they stood in front of the single headstone in this area, Lizzie found herself mostly watching Eric. She focused intently on his face, noting the immediate sadness that appeared at the corners of his eyes the moment he looked upon his mother’s grave. It was at that moment that she wondered if this was a mistake. Maybe she should have tried harder to convince him to not go with him. Maybe she should have waited to talk to him about this first instead of making all the decisions on her own. Maybe she shouldn’t have come here at all.

But they were here now. There is no more turning back from the decisions they both made tonight. It would be pointless now to decide to leave and forget that this ever happened. Lizzie knew that Eric would never forget this trip. After all, he had avoided visiting his mother for five years. And for all she knew, he would have continued avoiding this visit were it not for her.

Lizzie bit down nervously on her bottom lip as she finally looked away from Eric’s face to look at the gravestone. Unable to stop the comparison, she couldn’t help thinking about how much more grand it was than her mother’s. But then, she noticed almost immediately that while there was grandeur to the headstone, it lacked a…personal touch? No, that wasn’t the right word she was looking for. The longer she looked at it and the words engraved in the stone, she realized how disconnected she felt.

Despite very few to nearly no memories with her mother, whenever Lizzie visited her and gazed upon her plaque, she still felt a connection to her. From being able to see her smiling face to the quote from one of her favorite poems below her final dedication, she felt she could feel what her mother had been like when she was still alive.

As she stared at Eric’s mother’s name, she wanted to feel that same connection. She wanted to get some grasp of what she had been like while she was alive. That is, she wanted to see past the addiction and the hardships she faced. She suddenly thought about the photos she had hidden away still in her desk drawer: of the smiling woman in her Sunday best standing with her young son. The silver cross necklace that was now constantly around her love’s neck peeked out from behind the coat she had been wearing. She wished then that she could bring all the intimacy she felt in those photos to the headstone in front of her.

It just made her feel so sad that all of Anne Oliver’s life was now on a headstone that didn’t even tell any other passing person what made her…her. All she was now was a name, a date of birth and the day she died.

Lizzie sniffed and blinked a couple times in an attempt to hold back the tears threatening to fall. She was unable to wipe them away with her hands full. To try and distract herself from the sadness she felt over the situation, Lizzie once more focused on Eric.

Her frown deepened as he spoke of the last time he saw his mother while she was alive. She mourned for him; for the boy that had died with his mother. More importantly, she mourned for the man standing at her side; unable to find closure in his mother’s passing because of all the grief and guilt he was unable to address. Would he ever be able to find the closure he needed and deserved?

As much as she wanted to remind him, Lizzie kept the thoughts she had last night to herself. Reminding him that she thought his mother’s death was not his fault would help neither of them. He probably didn’t believe her. Couldn’t believe her. All those years of guilt clouded his judgment and left him in such a dark place that…well…here they were now.

After letting the silence linger a little moment longer, Lizzie squeezed Eric’s hand comfortingly. This was enough to pull his gaze away from his mother’s headstone to look down at her. The moment their eyes met, Lizzie felt the tears fall from the corners of her eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Eric.” For the first time since they started this journey, Lizzie released his hand to wrap her arm tightly around his middle. She pulled him into a hug, pouring all of the comfort she could possibly give.

It was hard to say how long they remained in this embrace, but after some time—possibly due to the ever dropping temperature thanks to the constant snowfall—Lizzie felt it necessary to separate so that they could continue with their purpose for visiting. “I’m going to put these down. But, Eric, if you need to step away, you can. I won’t be long.” She waited to see if he would accept her offer, shifting the bouquet to her now free arm to give her bad shoulder a break.

Eric didn’t take her up on her offer to separate from the scene as he simply shook his head and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. Lizzie didn’t push any further, instead she turned away from her love to focus on the task at hand. With a deep breath, she took her first step toward his mother’s headstone.

“Hi Anne…or, erm…Miss Oliver….” Lizzie’s voice was a whisper. She briefly looked over her shoulder to determine if Eric could hear her from where he was standing. However, his expression was still as grief stricken as before so she couldn’t tell. With a small sigh, she returned her attention to his mother. “I’m not entirely sure what to address you as. Your son hasn’t given any indication of which he preferred.”

Lizzie then lowered into a tight crouch so that her eyes were level to Anne Oliver’s name. “Anyway, I learned last night that it was your death anniversary yesterday. And I wanted to bring these flowers for you. I was told that these were some of your favorites.” She carefully placed the bouquet at the foot of the headstone. As she looked back up at the words in the stone, she suddenly became hyper fixated on the snow that was now sticking on top. She couldn’t help the sad smile that spread across her lips. “You know, I just learned earlier that you loved the snow. I love it too. Actually, this is my first time experiencing snow in London. It’s beautiful. Back in California, I would have to travel a bit to see some snow. You were very lucky.”

There was so much more Lizzie wanted to say to Eric’s mother. But with Eric standing right behind her—and uncertain if he heard her or not—she kept whatever else she wanted to say to herself. Maybe she could come visit again on her own now that she knew where she was laid to rest. As she stood up carefully from her crouched position, she stared intently at the dates on the headstone. Another round of sadness hit her hard. Their mothers really had died so young.

Lizzie found she had one last thing to say. “I’ll take care of him now. And I’ll do a damn better job than you ever had.” With that, Lizzie turned away from Eric’s mother to return to his side. Her now free arms immediately wrapped around his waist as they once more looked upon his mother’s burial site. With nothing more to say to the woman, she waited to follow Eric’s lead. She would let him decide when it was time for them to leave.

“Excuse me, can we help you?”

Lizzie lifted her head off Eric’s chest at the new voice that suddenly broke through their silent, solemn bubble. She turned in the direction of the voice, tilting her head back to look around Eric. She found an older couple slowly approaching them. From this distance and with the ever falling snow, she couldn’t quite make out their expressions.

But just as she was about to let Eric go to get a better look, Lizzie was frozen in place as she felt him stiffen. She immediately looked up at him, but his face too was unreadable.

When she looked back at the approaching couple, they were now much closer and she could see that they were an older couple and very obviously confused. Her own face mirrored their confusion. Who were these people? And why had they felt so compelled to talk to them?

It was just as she pondered over these questions that the older woman looked away from her to acknowledge Eric’s presence. Immediately she froze, her eyes wide with what Lizzie could only conclude was shock. The older man stopped alongside the woman, watching her closely with concern.

“Eric?”

Eyes wide, Lizzie looked from the woman to Eric then to the older man. He must have had the same idea as he looked from what she could only assume was his wife then over to Eric. Whatever immediate recognition the woman had in regards to Eric took the man a few seconds longer. The recognition hit only once Eric finally looked away from his mother’s headstone to turn to look at them.

Lizzie awkwardly pulled away from Eric’s embrace to turn fully in the direction of the new additions. At this point, they seemed to have completely forgotten that it was she they had first made eye contact with to stare in shock at Eric. She questioned and wondered to herself who these people were and how the hell they knew Eric. But none of the three made any effort to speak first. So her best attempt at making any assumptions was to assess the situation.

Her first assumption was that they obviously knew Eric’s mother. They wouldn’t have addressed him by name—correctly—if they didn’t know his mother. After that she could only make a wild guess that they were either family or friends. After all, outside of his mother, Eric gave her practically nothing to work with.

In the end, Lizzie was growing more and more uncomfortable with the tense silence. “Um…” Lizzie took a step around Eric, taking his hand in hers as she moved closer to the older couple. “Hi. We’re, um, here to visit his….” She winced at how tightly Eric was holding onto her hand. After a quick look at him, she tried to continue what she had wanted to say. However, she found that she had lost her train of thought.

“Are you, um, here to visit Anne as well?”

It was at this question that the older couple seemed to recall where they were and who they were with. The older man looked away from Eric to stare down at her. His gaze felt as if he was assessing her, but what he was assessing Lizzie wasn’t sure. After a few tense seconds, the man cleared his throat and seemed to decide to speak for his party.

“Yes, we’re visiting our—” He cleared his throat and shot a quick glance at the woman. “Our daughter.” Daughter?

Everything clicked almost instantly. The couple standing in front of them, almost as shocked to see them as they were, were Eric’s grandparents. Not only that, his maternal grandparents.

In truth, Eric hadn’t told her much about his grandparents other than that they lived here in Kensington and that he and his mother lived with them for a time before they moved to Barking. When he hadn’t told her much else about them, she assumed their relationship was strained and a topic she probably shouldn’t push to have. How much of that theory was true was still up in the air as she looked from grandparents to grandson to pick up on anything between them. The most she could comprehend was how surprised they were to see him in front of his mother’s grave.

“I’m…” Lizzie briefly glanced up at Eric before returning her attention to his grandparents. “I’m sorry for your loss.” It was honestly the best thing she could think to say at this moment. Not that either of them seemed to be listening. They had both returned to looking at Eric. He still hadn’t said anything to them though.

Finally, his grandmother took a hesitant step closer to him. “Eric? It’s been such a long time since we’ve last seen you, dear. You— You look…different.” Lizzie watched intently as his grandmother worked through something to say to Eric. The awkwardness made her wonder if this was their first time seeing him since…well…since his mother’s funeral. Surely it has been that long. His grandmother wouldn’t have commented on his appearance if they had seen each other in the last five years.

“It’s…” His grandmother glanced back at her husband. “It’s good to see you. It’s been so long. I’m—” There was a hitch in the woman’s voice as her gaze suddenly went past all of them to the snow frosted headstone.

The silence among the four of them stretched for far too long, the only sounds coming from the subtle whimpers coming from Eric’s grandmother. It was obvious she was trying very hard not to cry in front of them.

“I’m going to put the flowers down,” Eric’s grandfather suddenly said. Lizzie couldn’t help tensing at the tone of his voice. It wasn’t exactly that it lacked emotion, it was more so that he wanted to keep the emotion out of his voice. Without another glance at any of them, he walked past them to stand in front of the headstone. Lizzie watched as he registered the bouquet that was already sitting at the foot of the headstone. He seemed to contemplate or question whether or not to even put down the bouquet of flowers he held in his hands. She watched as he eventually cleared his throat and decided to lay the bouquet in front of theirs.

Suddenly, Eric’s voice filtered into the space around them. Lizzie tensed at how strained his words sounded, as if he was holding back all of the emotions that were probably at war inside him. When she looked up at him, his expression was hard. It took her an extra second to realize he was telling her that they should leave. She nodded to this request, keeping with her promise to follow his lead now that she had completed what she wanted to do here.

“Eric! Please wait, dear!” his grandmother called out behind them. The crunching snow told Lizzie that she was following them.

She stopped walking and pulled Eric’s hand to stop him as well. They exchanged looks between them that spoke an entire conversation. He wanted very much to leave. Meanwhile, she urged him to wait to hear his grandmother out.

When Eric didn’t take another step, Lizzie took this opportunity to look back at his grandmother. Once again, her very presence was completely overshadowed by how intently the older woman looked at Eric.

“Would you like to join us for dinner? We can—” But Eric was quick to cut off whatever else his grandmother wanted to say. He commented that it was already late and that they already had plans for dinner. Lizzie felt it best to not say anything, instead covering his trembling hand with both of hers to comfort him. “Tomorrow then? Why don’t you drop by for tea or lunch?” Eric countered that he was working tomorrow. “After work then?”

It was evident to Lizzie how important this moment was to his grandmother. Here was her grandson, standing in front of her after five long years, in which the last time they were together was at her daughter’s funeral. It was clear to Lizzie as she watched grandmother and grandson interact that this woman wanted very badly to ensure she didn’t lose her last connection to the daughter she lost too soon.

As much as she wanted to completely side with Eric, she couldn’t help feeling sympathetic toward his grandmother.

“Eric gets off at four tomorrow,” she said.

Eric’s grandmother blinked and seemed to register once again that he was not actually alone as she looked over at Lizzie. She then looked between the two of them as if trying to understand the relationship between her and her grandson. At the same time though, she seemed to also have a hard time snapping out of whatever haze that fell over her at the sight of her long lost grandson.

“Oh, erm, yes. Perhaps you can drop by at five then? We can have tea, if you’d like?”

Lizzie followed the woman’s gaze and watched Eric. In her peripheral, she noted that his grandfather hadn’t moved from his spot in front of the headstone. She was unsure whether or not he was watching them.

After what felt like ages, the only response Eric offered to his grandmother’s desperate request was, “We’ll see.” With that, Lizzie was tugged further away from the area. As they stepped off the grass and onto the pavement, Lizzie took one last look back at his mother’s grave. They were too far away now, but she was certain that his grandparents were standing side by side in front of their daughter to pay their respects.

Now that it was snowing, Lizzie had insisted that they take an Uber back to the flat. The car ride back home was just as tense as the train ride to the cemetery. Eric hadn’t looked at her once and somewhere around the halfway point of their journey, Lizzie was certain he was angry at her.

He still hadn’t said a word to her once they were back home. With his long strides, Lizzie was just entering the flat and taking off her shoes while Eric was making his way to the common room. She nervously worried her bottom lip, afraid that if she followed him they would have a round two of last night. The last thing she wanted was to have another fight with him.

After a quick trip to their room to drop off her coat and purse, Lizzie hesitantly walked over to the double doors and peeked her head into the common room. She found Eric in a similar position to last night, on the couch with a beer open in his hand. It was at that moment she wanted so badly to run. There was every possibility that it would be her turn to receive all the pent of frustration he must have been holding in today because of every decision she made.

But as he finally looked up from his beer and met her gaze, she stood frozen at the double doors. Every nerve in her body was screaming at her to say something.

“I’m sorry, Eric. I didn’t— It wasn’t—” She shuddered as she wrapped her arms around herself. Even though they were just mere steps away from each other, it was as if they were islands apart. It felt so isolating how far away he felt at this moment.

“Please don’t be mad…” ​

 

[JINFINITE]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ERIC JAMES OLIVER ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122818-----------❖ LOCATION — common room-----------❖ COMPANY — lizzie
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
---TRULY MADLY DEEPLY I AM -------- FOOLISHLY COMPLETELY FALLING -------- AND SOMEHOW YOU KICKED ALL MY WALLS IN

“I’m not—“
Oh but he was. He was definitely mad and it was the realization and acceptance of the fact that had Eric shutting up before he could blurt out anything he would end up regretting.

He had never been mad at Lizzie before, in fact he had been convinced it wasn’t even possible to be mad at her. He hadn’t been able to fathom a world in which she could do anything to make him truly angry the way he was at this moment. Sure he had been upset over situations they had been in before. Or mad at other people in their lives who in turn had affected their relationship. Even earlier in the breakroom at work he had talked himself into believing he was just stressed and dealing with the annual highest peak in his depression—that it wasn't because of Lizzie herself and the decisions she had made without consulting him. But now it was crystal clear to him that Lizzie, his precious love of his life—could do no wrong Lizzie, had in fact wronged him. And he didn’t know how to cope.

Eric immediately looked away from where she stood, needing to take a moment to collect himself in a desperate attempt to not unload onto her. She meant well, in the back of his mind he knew that. But Eric truly just could not get past the hurt of her volunteering him to his grandparents the way she had. She didn’t know the first thing about them! He thought he had made it pretty clear that he wanted to leave, but still she had gone and agreed to plans on his behalf??

It wasn’t just that though. Eric wasn’t as mad as he was over just that—it was everything! It was feeling like Lizzie had overstepped boundaries he had put up with the understanding that she would respect them. It was the residual feelings left over from their arguments last night. It was seeing his grandparents for the first time in five years and the sickening sensation that had immediately settled in his stomach listening to his grandmother’s voice. It was being there for the first time in five years and fighting with himself every passing second to not turn and run. It was how just days ago they had been going back and forth about using his mother’s cookbook, and before that it was the Barking trip and seeing what had happened to the flower shop.

No matter what he did, everything kept circling back to his mother and at the root of it all was his very own Lizzie Darcy.

The dejavu was constantly dragging poor Eric back through all the same memories and emotions over and over again without once giving him a break. The last time he had seen his grandmother she had talked his mother up to be this amazing woman, and Eric just stood by helplessly knowing the truth. Not that his mother wasn’t amazing, but that his grandparents had wanted nothing to do with her for years and had completely written her off as a failure. A disgrace to the Oliver family name. And then to see his grandmother acting as though she hadn’t completely ignored him for the past five years. Not once in the days leading up to or following the funeral had she reached out to offer him support. But now she wanted him over for tea!? She didn’t even know him! She had no idea the things he and his mother had struggled through living away from her in Barking. The things he had been through while living on his own after losing his mother. The things he had done in order to survive—the very things he had burdened trusted Lizzie with and had thought she would have been more sensitive with than to sweep under a rug as though they didn’t still affect him on a daily basis.

”I—“

Eric’s grip on his beer tightened as he tried so hard to remind himself that she must have thought she was helping. She was trying to help him. Lizzie would never do something to intentionally hurt him like that. But Eric just couldn’t find it in him to calm down this time. It didn’t even hurt anymore. There wasn’t the usual burning in his chest that came with having his feelings hurt. There was just…nothing. He was numb, devoid of any physical manifestations of his pain.

He still couldn’t bring himself to look back over to Lizzie. He was far too scared of what he would see or what might happen. If she was crying he would hate himself. If he started yelling at her he would hate himself. If she started yelling at him again he would hate himself. If he opted to run away he would hate himself. And if she chose to walk out on him….well Eric just couldn't bear the thought of witnessing that for the second night in a row. And so he refused to look at her, his thumb anxiously rubbing the mouth of his bottle as his mind raced to come up with an answer.

He’d taken a large drink from it prior to Lizzie entering the room, but it wasn’t enough—it wasn’t strong enough to help him get through this. But even if Eric could bring himself to drink more or something else, he didn’t really have any alternatives as he had been mostly off of hard liquor for a while now after the October flat night. And while he did smoke on occasion, he wasn’t a smoker by any means. Especially not after how Lizzie looked yesterday when she found him outside in the cold with a lit cigarette in hand. He didn't wish to put her through that experience again; he had already put her through too much today, and yesterday, and the day before, and—everyday! He was just too much. She didn’t deserve to be constantly ping ponging back and forth between their sweet love and his traumatic past. But still Eric said nothing and just quietly clung to his beer with a vice grip that otherwise would have been digging into his own palms as he poorly attempted to play mediator with his own emotions.

Maybe if Lizzie had listened to him and followed along with what he had thought were obvious attempts to brush off his grandmother’s invites then he could have left without a new internal storm starting up before any of the previous ones had gotten a chance to settle. Maybe if his grandparents hadn’t shown up at all then he wouldn’t feel so bad—made some progress even. Maybe he would have been able to leave the cemetery with less self loathing than he had walked in with. Or maybe if he had listened to Lizzie from the very beginning and not gone with her then he would have been saved from all of this. So once again, it was all his fault.

Except…if he hadn’t gone then what if Lizzie ran into his grandparents all alone? He could only imagine how they would interrogate her for standing in front of his mother’s grave without him there. Chew her out and not give her the time of day to explain herself. But then again, even if she did manage to get some words out, what if his grandmother still asked Lizzie to pass along the invitation to him? Then he would be sitting here listening to Lizzie and getting furious anyways. So it seemed that no matter how the day played out, he would’ve still ended up sitting on the couch and fighting with himself so as to avoid fighting with her.

Taking his prolonged silence as an indicator that he wasn’t going to make an immediate effort to explain himself like he so often did, Lizzie tried to speak, to try and figure out for herself what exactly had turned him against her—“Don’t,” But rather than being harsh or curt, Eric's voice was weak and held a certain fragility to it. As though he wasn’t fully committed to what he was saying; he didn't know what he wanted, he just knew he needed Lizzie to shut up before her words spun him around in circles too tight to see anything outside of their bubble. Her effect on him was too strong—he couldn’t think straight around her—and right now the last thing he needed was her overwhelming influence while he tried to make heads or tails of what he was feeling.

For once it wasn't the topic at hand that he was struggling to talk about, and instead it was solely him grappling with the unsettling feeling of being angry with his love. Of being hurt by her. He knew it hadn’t been intentional, Lizzie had countless better opportunities to hurt him if she had wanted to. This had been purely accidental on her part. But reason and rationale did nothing to lessen the pain, if anything it just added to the fire; knowing that his own feelings and reactions were unwarranted and excessive for what had happened. Or rather for what didn’t happen. But Eric couldn’t change how he felt, and the longer he sat trying not to be mad, the more upset he got.

Finally he let out a defeated sigh, “I don’t want us to fight,” But Eric wasn't very familiar with any other way to communicate his feelings. He already knew how things would go down: he would sit here and say everything that had upset him, and then Lizzie would counter with all the reasons why she had. And her reasons would be sound and make sense, further putting Eric in the corner of wrong. Because he was always the one at fault. The only way he knew to avoid that outcome was to hold his tongue and bottle up everything that was hurting him. But that was a key factor in what put them in this emotionally charged and tense position. And that was also what created all their problems.

It was one thing to state not wanting this to erupt into a full fledged argument though, and a very different thing to have the strength and capacity to follow through on his spoken desire.

”I didn’t want to go,” He couldn’t bring himself to say where, or to even mention his mother. To Eric it was just there, and that place. Because dealing with his mother’s death was already too difficult for him on its own and he couldn’t continue to shoulder that pain while handling this fresh new wound, “I went for you, love, because you wanted to go.”

Great, so now he was blaming Lizzie for his own faults. Because he didn't know how to tell her no or stand up for himself, even with the person he felt the safest with in the entire world. They had already had a mini fight over his insecure obsession with pleasing her, when he was oversharing his secrets thinking that she wanted to hear them. And here he was repeating the same mistake only with actions instead of words.

”Even before today you kept bringing her up—the flower shop, the cookbook—then you kept asking about her all last night. Lizzie I—” Eric’s voice had raised with his frustration and his body had along with it. He was on his feet now, no longer able to sink into his couch with how his emotions were buzzing around and flipping his stomach around inside, ”I haven’t told anyone…anyone in all this time. It’s hard enough just having to live with it, I don’t need you or anyone else trying to make it better by shoving reminders in my face.”

”I spend this alone every year for a reason—I go get a tattoo so that the entire time I’m in that chair I can focus on something else, because that’s the only way I get a break from thinking about it. I don’t want to talk about her! I don’t want to go visit her. I—”

But he did talk about her. He was an open book last night spilling every little detail to Lizzie and answering everything she asked. And he did visit her. Lizzie hadn’t forced him to go, in fact she gave him plenty of chances to say no. But Eric had led the way all the way to his mother’s grave all on his own. He had done this to himself. It wasn’t Lizzie’s fault at all, ”I haven’t spoken to my grandparents since the funeral. And you went and just—”

Eric looked away to try and curb his anger, allowing a silent pause between them before lowering down to the point of almost speaking to himself, “They shouldn't have even been there…” Yesterday was the actual anniversary of his mother’s death, so why didn’t his grandparents go visit her grave yesterday!? What were the chances that they would choose to go at the exact same time that he and Lizzie were there?

“Why…?“ Eric’s voice broke again as he looked back to her for answers, the extremes of his emotions were taking their toll. The highs were dangerous and painful while the lows left him exhausted and detached from his heart and soul.

Even though he had been the one to ultimately decide to go with her to visit his mother, a part of him couldn't help but continue to blame Lizzie. He knew it wasn't fair, but Eric found himself comparing it to that night in their bed just last week when they finally made love for the first time and saw it through to the end despite multiple warning signs against it. That night Lizzie had pushed back against his decision, she had asked multiple times if it was what he wanted and even after telling her yes she wasn’t convinced it would be the right choice for him. But then today she didn’t once second guess him. Anything he said or did she agreed with. Was it because she genuinely thought he was making good choices? Did she think that going to the cemetery would be good for him even after hearing how difficult his mother’s death had been on him? Did she truly think he was ready to go back there after hiding from his mother for the last five years? Why did she care so much all of a sudden? Not that she didn’t care before…but never before had she made such an effort regarding his mother, and it was too much for Eric to go from 0 to 100. He couldn’t keep up—nor did he want to.

“Why is this so important to you? She’s gone, and nothing you do is going to change that.”

Because she didn’t want him to go through it alone. Her family relied on each other for support and she wanted that for him. She was hopeful that reconnecting with his grandparents would help him—“They were never interested in helping before.”
“But maybe they do now.”

Eric went quiet, but not because he was considering any possible truths in her words. Rather because he was wondering how she could. How could Lizzie time and time again give people the benefit of the doubt? She handed out second chances like they weren’t labeled as such: second. She seemed to always believe the best of people—he was included amongst them—and Eric just couldn’t see how she did it.

He had been lied to, neglected, and abandoned. Drugged, beaten and abused. His hopes had been raised and dropped too many times to count and he honestly couldn’t do it again. He had taken a huge leap in trusting Lizzie as he had and opening up to her in the few months since their first interaction here in this very common room, and she had never let him down. She had gone above and beyond for him and Eric wanted so badly to please her…but this he just couldn’t do. He had lost respect for his grandparents long before losing his mother, and after the events following her death they only succeeded in further cementing his opinion of them. But here was Lizzie, asking him to give them the same second chance she gave out so easily, and Eric couldn’t find it in him to crush her dreams with the reality he knew too well.

He knew exactly how tea at his grandparents’ house would go. They would feign polite interest in his health and affairs over the past five years, asking if he finished school, where he was working, where he was living. As if they cared…and then the split second he slipped up in his responses they would get after him. Pin responsibility on him for something or berate him for not living up to their standards. They would probably tell him he should have used his mother’s death as an opportunity to pull himself out of poverty and make a name for himself.

But Eric couldn’t tell Lizzie all of that. He couldn’t shoot her hopes down when she so genuinely seemed to believe that this would help him. He didn’t want to add to the endless list of reasons he was a disappointment and undeserving of her. And so he didn’t speak up. He didn’t mention how he knew his grandparents would act, he didn’t tell her the mentality of the rest of the Oliver family, and he didn’t repeat that he didn’t want to go. Instead he accepted his defeat by bringing his beer up to take a long, slow drink in hopes of drowning the rest of his residual anger so he could be rid of these painful feelings for at least the rest of the evening.

It was as he lowered the bottle that he was able to pick up on the fear in Lizzie’s expression. Fear not directed at him specifically, but rather for him. Fear for them. Eric’s own face fell, regret quickly replacing his anger and prompting him to look away again, turning his head and angling his body as he closed himself off from her. Because that was the only way Eric knew to contain himself, to shut others out and bottle things up. His fingers twitched, desperate to hold her—to be held by her. To feel every breath she took as their hearts matched pace. He wanted to feel her hands through his hair, banishing every painful thought and memory from his head.

But he knew she wouldn’t. There was no way, not after everything he had just said. He didn’t deserve any of the comfort he craved.

”I’m sorry,” He knew he wasn’t allowed to tell her those two little words anymore. She had robbed him of them and filled him with guilt every single time the opportunity to apologize arose. But he truly was sorry. He was sorry for getting so angry with her when he knew she was only trying to help. He was sorry for being so difficult because he didn’t know how to process his own feelings. He was sorry for dragging her into each complication in his life. He was sorry he ruined every holiday and special occasion between them. He was sorry for blaming her for his own mistakes. He was sorry they couldn’t have a normal relationship because his past continually held them back from sharing any happy experiences. And most of all he was sorry for being the reason they were even in this position to begin with: he was sorry for killing his mother.
​

​

 

[feelsHASkilig]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ELIZABETH DARCY aka LIZZIE ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122918-----------❖ LOCATION — the flat - front door-----------❖ COMPANY — eric
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
---WHY'D YOU HAVE TO BE SO CUTE -------- IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE YOU -------- WHY MUST YOU MAKE ME LAUGH SO MUCH

Lizzie had one job: Be there for Eric. It was the main advice her sister gave her earlier that day. Above everything else, be there for him. How terribly she had done that one job.

Her heart raced watching as exhaustion and defeat weighed down on Eric. Fear coursed through her, rendering her unable to say anything. She worried—not for the first time today, of course—that if she tried to say something, it would be all wrong. In fact, she was quite certain that if she even tried to utter a single sound right at this moment, it would be catastrophic.

So she didn’t say anything, instead letting his heavy apology linger between the both of them. The memories of their argument last night brought on an onslaught of guilt for Lizzie. Her words that were said amidst anger and hurt and worry now morphed itself into regret. She should have never thrown it in his face how often he apologized to her; to them.

It must have taken so much out of him to utter those two words. She could only imagine how much he tortured himself over them. How many times today had he stopped himself from apologizing to her for faults only he deemed were in need of apologizing for? But more importantly, what had she done to him to make him feel like he needed to apologize at all?

Lizzie wasn’t a fool. Yes, she was struck dumb with how much she loved Eric. She acknowledged that her devotion to him was the main reason she overlooked the parts of him that others—particularly her friends back home—would have deemed “red flags”. But the truth was that whatever she felt for and thought about him, he felt and thought the very same for her, but tenfold. The truth was, Eric loved her far more than she could ever love him.

So for her to finally reach the point where Eric was the one to address her flaws in their relationship, she knew she had fucked up, and terribly. She had finally reached that limit where the high pedestal he had put her on the entire time they’ve known each other has now finally crumbled. She was now human in his eyes.

With that understanding, Lizzie felt the security blanket she now realized she depended so heavily on throughout this relationship be ripped away from her. She felt so bare and vulnerable as she stood frozen in front of Eric. She felt utterly and completely helpless.

In the end, she continued to say nothing. She didn’t try to defend her decisions nor did she argue against his accusations. Instead she let his words remain a truth between the both of them as her shoulders slumped heavily in defeat. When she finally felt compelled to move from her spot at the double doors, it wasn’t to walk over to him and provide comfort. She wasn’t even sure he wanted that from her. Her destination was over to the kitchen where the leftovers from their lunch now sat cold on the island. Wordlessly and without a look over at where Eric stood in the common room, she pulled out his food and stuck the takeaway box into the microwave to reheat.

“Here…” Had she even said the word out loud as she placed the now hot food back on the island? Did it even matter?

She held her breath as she finally braved a glance up at Eric. But all she got was the dark silhouette of his back toward her.

The disappointment was such a heavy burden. It gripped her heart in a vice grip and squeezed until she felt like it would no longer beat ever again. The lump that had been forming in her throat nearly choked the breath out of her. Her face burned hot as tears welled in her eyes.

“Eat this before it gets cold…” Her voice was strained and hoarse at her failed attempt to keep her emotions at bay. She sniffed back her tears as she ducked her head down and left the common room.

Lizzie immediately collapsed onto the floor the moment the door to their bedroom clicked shut. Whatever remaining strength she had left to keep composure disappeared so all that was left was the pain from every single accusation Eric threw at her. All of her failures crashed down on her until she was just a tight ball on the floor. The only thing she could do now in this state was sob. She didn’t even have the strength to hide her despair or even care if the walls separating her from Eric would leave her this one small dignity and privacy.

For the rest of the evening, Lizzie hid away in their bedroom. She no longer had the energy to wonder if Eric would sleep in their bed tonight. As much as she wanted to worry about him, she just…couldn’t. If he decided he couldn’t stand to share a bed with her tonight, then fine. He can finally have the space he so obviously wanted all this time. She would finally grant him his wish: she would leave him alone to do whatever he needed to do to survive his grief.

As for her, she would do what she did best; keep herself busy. Just like Eric spent hours on the tattoo chair to drown in the physical pain to avoid the emotional one, Lizzie drowned in her work to keep her mind occupied with anything other than her own hurt. So she set up camp on Ricki’s bed, unable to even look over at her own, surrounding herself with course reading and manuscripts. She pulled out her laptop and notebooks to study for the finals she should have been studying for long ago instead of trying to be there for Eric. For the rest of the evening, Lizzie focused intently on every word, sentence, phrase or page. She annotated the living hell out of manuscripts, deluding herself into thinking she was actually invested in a potential best seller. She scribbled on notebooks and typed up pages of notes on details she thought would be important for her finals until her fingers were sore. Nonstop she worked until her eyes could no longer stay open. She worked herself to such extreme exhaustion that she never realized she had completely passed out amidst all of her work.

Suddenly, she was back at the cemetery. All around her it was dark and quiet. The first signs of snowfall fell all around her, but she had no idea if any of the flakes would stick to the dry grass below her feet. She looked around her, wondering if there was anyone else in the area. There wasn’t. She was all alone. With a sigh, she turned back forward to face the grave she had obviously come to visit.

She stared intently at a smiling face that mirrored her very own. Only, were they really similar? To Lizzie, it felt like she hadn’t smiled in a long time. Whatever happiness she used to feel died with the woman buried six feet under where she stood.

“Mom?” Lizzie crouched down, resting her elbows on her bent knees as she continued to stare at the words etched into the plaque. It was then that she realized she was also holding a small leatherbound book. While she couldn’t see clearly what the golden words said on the cover, she knew exactly what she was holding: her mother’s book of poems.

Lizzie sighed heavily as she opened the book to a random page. Again, she couldn’t quite see the words on the page, but she knew it was the right one. Instead of reading aloud the poem, however, she returned her gaze to her mother’s smiling face. “I think I miss you? But…how do you miss someone you hardly know?”

She reached a shaking hand to the cold stone, tracing the deep lines across her mother’s cheek—“Love?”—Lizzie turned away from her mother’s grave to find the source of the voice. But once again, no one else was around her. She searched for a few more seconds before returning to her reason for her visit.

Only, when she turned back to look at her mother’s plaque, she instead faced a gravestone now damp from fallen snow. Although she could not quite read the words engraved into the stone, she knew exactly who this belonged to; who was buried six feet under her feet.

“I hardly know you…” she whispered, running gentle fingers across the name in front of her—

When Lizzie opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was how dry and heavy they were. Almost as if she had been crying for a long time. But, that couldn’t be possible. She had shed all of the tears she needed to shed hours ago before she drowned herself in her work. And, well, apparently she had worked herself to the point of exhaustion that she passed out without realizing it. So where could she have found the time to cry for a second time between then and now?

The next thing she noticed was that she wasn’t where she had fallen asleep. Sometime between passing out and now, she had somehow left Ricki’s bed to return to her own. Did she sleepwalk? She had no history of it, but it was the only explanation for how she woke up on her own bed instead of the bed she was last on before everything went blank.

Finally, as the last of her sleep daze faded away, Lizzie realized that she was surrounded by a familiar comfort and warmth that—quite honestly—felt like it had been a whole lifetime ago since she last enjoyed it. As familiar as this all felt, there was a voice in the back of her mind that told her it was undeserved. And yet, Lizzie couldn’t get herself to deny this gift. Instead, she buried herself deeper in the warmth, cradling herself in the space that fit her so perfectly. As the comforting walls closed in around her, a fresh round of tears fell at the same time her heart melted and shattered in her chest.

“I’m so sorry…” She sobbed into the darkness given to her, burying her face into her hands. She remained like this until her tears drained her of all her energy and she felt herself drift away into another darkness.

Lizzie woke up for the second time as the bed dipped and tilted around her. There was a hint of a familiar grunt close to her ear, but instead of reacting to the movements around her, she stayed still. She kept her eyes closed as her ears followed the set of movements all around the room. She carefully tracked the gentle shuffles of footsteps as it tiptoed to the other side of the room to collect the mess she must have left on Ricki’s bed. She held her breath at what she suspected was a hand running through hair, followed by a tired sigh. She continued her deceitful slumber until she heard the door to the bedroom open, click shut and then the faint sounds of another round of doors opening and closing. Once she deemed the silence long enough, she finally opened her eyes and lifted her head to take in her surroundings.

She was back on her bed, but how she ended up there, she had no idea. When she turned to look at the empty spot beside her, she noted the clear indications that someone had, in fact, laid beside her last night. The spot was still warm too.

Her heart pounded as it all sank in. But would she dare let herself hope?

Before Eric returned from the bathroom, Lizzie returned to her previous sleeping position. Even as their bedroom door opened, she didn’t give him any indication that she was now awake. She let him believe she was still sleeping while he shuffled around the room to change and prepare to leave.

This was all for his benefit…and hers too. She didn’t want him to feel pressured to act on a love he probably didn’t feel like giving her right now. Despite hope pestering its way into her heart, she wanted to protect herself from the possibility that he still felt for her the way he had last night.

Lizzie didn’t leave her bed until hours later. By the time she pushed the blankets aside, she was certain Eric was already at work and probably didn’t bother to let her know he made it to the hotel safely. She couldn’t even brave a glance at her phone for fear of disappointment if she didn’t see his name on her lockscreen. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t even wake her phone for fear of the pain of just looking at the lockscreen. The smiling faces in the photo felt like they were from a completely different universe from her own. How was it possible that she once felt such pure happiness? Would she be that happy ever again?

An all encompassing numbness enveloped her as she went about her morning routine, sans the branches that were reserved for Eric. As she prepared her breakfast and coffee, she tried to avoid remembering their argument last night or the one the night before. She refused to think about the reason why her life had suddenly become so dark and bleak. Lastly, she denied the validity of her failures. Instead, she repeated to herself a single sentence, almost like a mantra to get her up and going for the rest of the day.

“I have to get out of here.”

Despite her better judgment, Lizzie left her phone at home. She still could not muster up the courage to check if Eric even acknowledged her existence…or if he even cared. All she could focus on was how much she needed to get out of the flat. To be so far away from every painful memory of the entire week. Much like last night, she needed to distract herself with countless activities to the point that even for the briefest of moments, she forgot all about Eric.

Naturally, her first visit was to the pool. Unlike her previous visits though, Lizzie stuffed more than just her gym bag into the first empty locker she claimed. Once she finished changing into her swimsuit, she stacked her book bag on top of her gym bag and ensured that it wouldn’t topple over should she open the locker later. For the time being, she ignored the extra weight she brought with her today in her effort to stay out of the flat for as long as possible. She pushed aside the memory of side glances she received from people she passed by on the way to the gym. They surely thought she was insane carrying so much with her considering it was the middle of winter and snowing much more than it had the day before. Whatever, let these English people judge her for what they didn’t understand.

Once she was fully submerged in the pool, Lizzie focused solely on her laps. She kept her pacing steady and consistent. Every so often she would have to think of her old injury to ensure that she wouldn’t relapse. A trip to the hospital with everything she had with her today just sounded like a terrible idea. So she gave extra attention to her bad shoulder while controlling her breathing. On top of all of that, she tuned out everything and everyone else around her. For all Lizzie was aware of, she was the only person in this entire world as she kept her steady strokes uniform and her kicks powerful. Right now, all that Lizzie knew was the pool and nothing else but the pool. The outside world failed to follow her the moment she took that deep breath and cut through the surface of the water.

The clock in the locker room told Lizzie that she had been swimming laps for nearly a couple hours. As she tried to catch her breath from the countless laps she swam, she walked over to the showers and let the hot water fall over her, washing away the pool that clung to her hair and body. Her muscles relaxed allowing her a reprieve from thinking about the subtle throbbing from her shoulder. During one of her laps, she twisted her arm awkwardly causing her shoulder to spasm for a few seconds. It wasn’t painful, just terribly annoying. As the shower continued to rain down on her exhausted body, Lizzie let time slip away from her. Despite protests from her exhaustion, she reminded herself of her goal to not be home today. At least not while she would be home alone.

However, there was a brief moment as she was washing away the soap from her body that she considered the possibility of not going home at all.

But Lizzie didn’t give that thought much attention shortly after she finished her shower. Who was she kidding? Of course she couldn’t avoid going home all day. For one thing, she had intentionally forgotten to bring her phone with her. It would be incredibly unkind of her to show up at one of her friends’ flats without a warning. Plus, she was definitely not prepared for the questions that would surely be asked about why she was even avoiding going home in the first place.

Once she had dried herself off enough to change back into her multiple layers of outside clothes, Lizzie collected her things from the locker and left the gym. To where? She honestly had no idea. Despite her bus stop being in her eye sight, she looked from one side of the street to the next and after a couple minutes decided to walk away from the bus stop to explore this unfamiliar area.

After about five minutes of walking, Lizzie walked into a quaint little coffee and sandwich shop. Initially she thought it was simply a cafe. But she couldn’t help thinking about Just Deserts as she looked up at the handwritten menu above the register. While, yes, it served much of the same items as a usual cafe would, she stared amazed at the impressive list of coffee items. This place may serve some delicious sounding sandwiches, but it was obvious to her now that they wanted people to know that they took their coffee very seriously. She honestly didn’t think she would find a place in England that cared so much about coffee that wasn’t JD—AKA an English owned and not franchised business.

Lizzie looked around the small shop once the initial shock of the coffee list faded. Unaware of what time it was exactly, she could only assume that the couple patrons currently sitting at the limited number of small tables were people like her. They were either students—based on the younger man sitting with his back resting against the wall with a thick sci-fi novel open in his hands and what looked like a textbook resting ignored on the table—or those on some form of holiday—based on an older woman dressed in far too many layers despite the heater currently blasting. She could only guess that it was well past lunch time for most people currently in the middle of work hours or she was in a part of the town that wasn’t too occupied by corporate employees.

“Hello! D’you have any questions about the menu?” a suddenly cheery voice said in front of her. Lizzie returned her attention to the register. Standing at the counter was an elderly man—most likely in his sixties—sporting a surprisingly floral apron with a matching bright smile across his face. If she wasn’t so aware how bitingly cold it was today, she would have believed this man considered it to be a sunny summer afternoon. For a moment, Lizzie felt pulled to the vibrant energy. It was possibly because of the dreary week she has been having. Regardless, she imagined herself like a sunflower turning toward the sun rays for warmth. She wanted so badly to give into the overall hospitality of this man and never leave it.

Lizzie eventually returned the smile. It may not be as bright as the man standing in front of her, but at least it was as genuine as she could manage. She walked over to the counter as she once more looked over the extensive coffee menu. Before she knew it, she fell into the most energetic conversation she didn’t think she could have this week. All about coffee.

It turns out that the man she was conversing with was the owner of the coffee shop. Well, to be more specific, co-owner. Every so often, Lizzie could not stop thinking about JD. Moreso the original location before the small business expanded to other parts of the world. She listened intently as the owner explained the history of the shop. He called it a retirement dream between him and his life partner. It had been a lifelong dream of his partner’s to open a shop together, but that dream was put on the backburner because prior to retirement, he had been stuck in a corporate job that kept him in the city often. But when he finally decided to retire, there was no saying no to his ever so patient partner.

“After all,” the owner, she now knew was named Edgar, continued, “despite my career, coffee is my life.”

And the next thing Lizzie knew, she listened as Edgar told her about his lifelong love for all things coffee. Naturally, it all started in university in an effort to stay awake between classes and assignments. But his dependency only bloomed into countless hours of research to find “better” than what he was offered. Because, after some point, a simple black coffee just wasn’t enough for him. So after years and years of research, Edgar deemed himself a coffee connoisseur. He could no longer settle for just any cup of coffee at any cafe or coffee shop any more. He would later invest in a whole home set up and from there it was more hours honing his craft.

Until, finally, here he was, recounting his entire life story to little Lizzie. Throughout his storytelling, Lizzie stared wide eyed up at him, impressed by his dedication to a craft he held so much love for. She was also so impressed at the confidence he had to agree to open this coffee shop with his partner after decades of this being just a hobby.

When she voiced such, Edgar simply chuckled and thanked all of this to his partner, Benji. Unfortunately for Lizzie, she had actually missed the “other half of the heart” of this shop. For, apparently, that was a whole other passion project to hear all about.

Eventually the conversation turned right back around to the menu above the register and Edgar spent another decent amount of time going over specific beverages that he deemed Lizzie would enjoy based on her preferences. By the time she did manage to place a latte order, Lizzie walked over to the nearest empty table with a notepad page full of other coffee beverages on the menu she promised Edgar to try the next time she was in the area. She assured him that she would definitely be in the area often thanks to the pool.

Suffice it to say, Just Deserts was likely going to have a heavy competitor as one of her favorite coffee shops in London. As she took her first sip of her latte, she felt Edgar’s eyes watching her expectantly. But there was no being coy about her reaction. If her whole conversation with Edgar earlier wasn’t enough to believe he was invested and in love with his craft, the product showed it. Lizzie had to fight to stop herself from making this latte her go-to order for future visits.

Despite the occasional looks from the other two patrons in the shop, Lizzie remained deep in conversation with Edgar for the entire duration of her visit. Of course, their topic of conversation would be paused every time a customer came in, but once their order was ready, Edgar returned to her table and went right back to whatever it was they were talking about. Most of their conversation was about him, the shop or his partner. According to Edgar, Benji was off running errands for the food part of the shop. Lizzie was promised an unabridged version of Benji’s side of their shop’s story for the next time she visited. She could tell just from the soft expression on Edgar’s face that the other half of this story was one he loved to tell just as much as he loved to tell his own.

As she watched Edgar’s face blissfully glaze over from an obvious memory he was having, Lizzie lifted her coffee mug to her lips in an effort to hide her own crestfallen expression. When was the last time Eric looked at her that way? When was the last time just the thought of Eric’s name pooled warmth throughout her body and caressed her so tenderly? When was the last time she felt safe loving Eric?

Suddenly, a chill entered the small shop as another customer came inside. This time, it seemed to be a regular. Edgar was very quick to excuse himself from Lizzie’s table to entertain the new arrival, thus leaving her alone with the last remnants of the happy distraction she clung to until now. With a soft sigh, she turned her attention out the window as she finished the last of her coffee.

The first thing she noticed was how dark it was outside suddenly. Last time she remembered looking outside the shop, there was still a hint of sunlight peeking through the cloudy skies. Now, it looked like it was about time for the streetlights to turn on.

What time was it?

Since she left her phone at home, Lizzie had to dig into her book bag for her iPad to check the time. As soon as she woke up her tablet and caught a glimpse of the time on the lockscreen, her eyes widened.

Shit. She had apparently lost track of time.

It was now a quarter to five.

Eric was going to be back home any minute now and she was nowhere near the flat.

The panic she felt as she collected her things and said a quick goodbye to Edgar filled her with so much dread. How could she have thought about the possibility of not going home today? Why did she think it was a good idea to leave her phone in the flat?

What would Eric think if he made it home before her and she was nowhere to be found? Especially because she decided to leave her phone?!

God, how could she be so stupid???

Lizzie prayed that the next bus going to the stop near her neighborhood was on the way as she ran around the corner back onto the street where the pool was located. She hoped that the snow wouldn’t delay her any more than her own pathetic and stupid decisions. She hated herself for how she acted today. Eric was already going through so much this week. Whether or not he even cared, he still did not need her adding on to his pain.

To her utter relief, Lizzie watched as the bus she needed to take back home stopped at a red light right before her stop. After a couple quick deep breaths, she adjusted the straps of all of her bags and ran the remaining distance to her stop. By the time she took a spot beside an elderly woman carrying a couple full grocery bags, she was out of breath and honestly making a bit of a fool of herself. But Lizzie didn’t care what other people around her thought of her behavior. All that mattered to her now was that she needed to get home and explain herself to Eric.

In most cases, the bus to and from the pool had never been an issue for her. Most of the time she had her phone or work to occupy her. Today, however, she was severely impatient with each stop the bus took. Did this route really have this many stops? Or was it that each stop took far longer today than it normally did? Whatever the reason, Lizzie constantly craned her neck to the front of the bus to check on the progress of passengers coming in and out. All the while her heart raced with fear and dread that she would get back to the flat to a worried Eric. Or worse, a furious Eric.

When her bus finally pulled up to her stop, Lizzie was the first person out. She had to momentarily compose herself when she landed on a slippery patch of the sidewalk, fearful that she would slip and hurt herself. But once she regained her footing and made sure her bags wouldn’t pull her down with the momentum, Lizzie turned in the direction of Boundary and sped back to the flat. A voice in the back of her mind was preparing her for all possible scenarios should she get back home and Eric was already there. Overall, none of them were good enough endings to calm her.

By the time she saw the first signs of the front of the flat, Lizzie was certain she needed to prepare herself for round three of arguments. Or, moreso, she was ready for round two of being told how much of a failure she was to him.

Her hands shook as she dug into her book bag for her house keys. From the walkway at the side of the flat, it was hard to tell if anyone was home. All of the curtains had been drawn before she left the flat and she couldn’t even depend on sound to determine if Eric was already home. He was just so quiet. As she came up to the front door, Lizzie let out a nervous, shaky breath then reached forward to unlock the door. Well…here goes—

The sound of footsteps muffled by snow suddenly caught her attention. Eyes wide, she left her house key dangling in the bolt lock of the front door to look in the direction of the sound. Because, quite honestly, despite being hyper aware of any and every sound around her, she hadn’t been prepared for any sounds accompanying her outside the flat.

Her body was on high alert. But the moment her eyes lifted from the familiar pair of boots to the black slacks and matching long sleeve button up, her heart no longer raced due to a fight or flight response. Instead, she could hear her heart pulsing in her ears from the shock of finding Eric staring right back at her.

After all this time preparing herself for the moment she would see him when she stepped inside the flat, Lizzie was unable to believe she was actually looking at him while they were both still outside. Because somehow, miraculously and technically, she managed to make it back home before him.

“H-Hi…” was all she could choke out amidst her shock. ​

 

[JINFINITE]

(❈)----▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀----ERIC JAMES OLIVER ⋮⋮
------ ❖ DATE — 122918-----------❖ LOCATION — his grandparents' house-----------❖ COMPANY — lizzie and his grandmother
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---TRULY MADLY DEEPLY I AM -------- FOOLISHLY COMPLETELY FALLING -------- AND SOMEHOW YOU KICKED ALL MY WALLS IN

“Eric?” He could hear the concerned confusion in her voice, after all he almost never called his best friend; that just wasn't their dynamic. If Eric ever needed something he would just shoot her a message—and if he needed something he would suffer in silence. So it was safe to say that seeing Eric’s name on her lock screen was probably the last thing she expected. In an attempt to diffuse her own nerves Olivia cracked a joke, asking if they had burned the flat down or something while she was gone. But at Eric’s response she immediately fell silent at the severity of his tone, ”Lizzie and I had a fight.”

The last time he had told her about conflict in his relationship, Olivia had been quick to assure him that he was making a big deal out of nothing and was able to advise him back onto the correct path. But this time was different. This wasn’t Eric learning to navigate dating and how his feelings affected his and Lizzie’s relationship…this was on a much deeper and more personal level.

Olivia left the moment of silence untouched, giving pause in case Eric wanted to lead the conversation. After all, he had been the one to call her. But she knew her best friend and she already knew that he likely wouldn’t share his troubles without being prompted. She also knew it would be far too easy to fall into a game of twenty questions with him, so Olivia skipped straight to the source, ”What happened?”

He probably should have started at the beginning and told her about their first fight when he came home late from the tattoo shop. But that wasn’t what was bothering him. That was a fight that stemmed from misunderstanding, and he hadn’t been upset with Lizzie during it. It had been mostly one sided and had more or less resolved itself, washed away with his tears all night long and likely would have faded to just a sad memory. But then yesterday happened, and coming home after the cemetery was a true fight. Last night hadn’t been resolved, and last night had carried on into today and led Eric to be making this call in the first place, ”Lizzie wanted to go visit my mum…”

There was another heavy pause as Olivia debated requesting for him to fill in the details. Obviously Lizzie knew things about his mother, but Olivia wasn’t aware of just how much of her had been shared until now listening to Eric’s silence on the other end that allowed her to deduce he had told her the date of his mother’s death and that this was without doubt the epicenter of their fight.

After the funeral, Eric stopped talking about his mother completely. And it wasn’t long after that he had disappeared off the face of the Earth. To this day Olivia only had a general understanding of it all, and she could only assume what little Eric was willing to share with Lizzie, ”Oh…” So while it was understandable how this became a topic that had come between Boundary’s happiest couple, it still took Olivia a little by surprise, ”So you told her?”

Eric swallowed, tightening his grip on his iPod as his decisions came back to bite him. Yes, he had told Lizzie how his mother’s death haunted Christmas and the days after. But he had also told her so much more, more than he had ever shared with Olivia and he was now feeling trapped under the weight of his own secrets as he opted to just move the conversation along rather than risk outing himself. He couldn’t bear to share his story two days in a row, not right now while he was already wrecked over it, ”I…I went with her.”

He could hear Olivia’s impatience through some rustling noises in the background as she waited him out to better understand how visiting his mother’s grave could turn into a fight large enough for him to call her on his lunch break at work, ”...but my grandparents were there and they invited me over.”

”I said no but,” Technically he hadn’t…but Eric had otherwise been fairly obvious in not wanting to go, ”Lizzie told them I could go today—after work.”

”I was so angry…when we got back home I yelled at her and—“

Olivia was so calm, and patient; waiting for Eric’s story to start making sense. Because as great a writer as he was, his own personal stories were often choppy and hard to follow, ”What did Lizzie do?”

”…nothing. She did nothing…I—I kept going. I couldn’t stop and—afterwards she just left. She didn’t say anything, she just went to her room and shut the door.”

“I mean…you guys didn't break up, right?”

Eric should have immediately denied it, but he didn't. Not because he thought they should or were going to, but because he was suddenly aware that for the first time, the thought of breaking up hadn't once crossed his mind. Usually it was a prominent thought of his; of course not that he wanted to break up. But rather that he was terrified they would. He spent most days banishing the little voice in his head that threatened him with the possibility that Lizzie would leave. For the most part he was very comfortable in their relationship, because most of the time his entire world consisted solely of him and Lizzie, but some days it was hard. He knew through and through that Lizzie was the last person on Earth he deserved to be with—she was far too good for him. And he had voiced not feeling like he was enough multiple times, and multiple times she had assured him that he was enough for her, and multiple times her answer had quieted his anxieties just long enough to get through the day…only for them to slowly seep back out as time went on. But now that Olivia had mentioned it, Eric realized that throughout these back to back fights they had had the fear of losing her hadn’t actually crossed his mind. The entire time he had trusted that she would be there…and then she wasn’t.

”...Eric?”

”No.” He spoke a little too quickly, feeling the need to not only reassure Olivia but himself included that his relationship itself wasn’t in jeopardy this time…but now that she had mentioned it he found it hard to shake the feeling. That incessant ‘what if’ that forever followed him. What if this really was Lizzie’s final breaking point?

There was silence between the two best friends for a minute, Olivia trying to remotely troubleshoot his relationship while Eric reflected on last night’s argument and replayed his words over and over again wondering how he had allowed himself to just go off on Lizzie like that, ”I know you probably can’t see it right now, but I’m proud of you Eric.”

Olivia told him how she was proud of him for going to see his mother. And for telling Lizzie that he was upset. That even though things could have been handled better, on both sides, that she knew how hard it was for him to speak up. That even though none of it was easy or felt good, she was still glad he did it. And that she believed in time it would become easier to share the hard things and the heavy stuff and that next time it wouldn’t feel so explosive.

He said nothing in response, eyes glancing up to the clock on the wall knowing he didn’t have much longer before his break ended and he wasn’t feeling any better yet despite sharing with his best friend. He was dreading having to hang up the call knowing that he would once again be alone with his thoughts, ”So are you going to go?”

”…go?”
“To your grandparents’ house. I mean, I feel like Lizzie has a point. A lot can change in five years…I’m not saying tea will fix everything, but it could be worth hearing what they have to say.”

He definitely hadn’t expected to hear Olivia in support of visiting his grandparents, but with both his best friend and his love telling him to go, what other choice did he have? Well, obviously he could stand his ground and say no…but he was weak to their opinions. He wanted to please them. And maybe…just maybe there was a tiny part of him that was also curious to know why his grandmother was so suddenly insistent on seeing him…but still, Eric chose the easier option: ”I don’t—no…I don’t want to.” And that was that. Olivia didn’t make any further effort to try and sway him, she knew there was only so much Eric could handle at once and she didn’t want to ruin this phone call or lose his trust in her by pushing him too far.

Eric went on to spend the second half of his shift lost in his thoughts. He was slow, often caught staring off as he battled back and forth with himself over what Lizzie’s distance meant for them and whether there was something he was supposed to be doing or something he could do to fix everything. But he had already texted her three separate times by now, so until he returned to the flat at the end of his shift there wasn’t really anything else he could do from the hotel except stress.

By the time he was off for the day and ready to go home he still hadn’t heard back from Lizzie. Normally he would text her to let her know he was leaving but today he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn't deserve to be upset, not after what he had put Lizzie through, but Eric couldn't hold back his frustrated and worried sigh as he stared at his still unanswered text messages to her. He hadn’t expected an answer to the first which simply informed her that he had made it to work, after all she had been asleep when he had left and was probably still upset herself. But the second several hours later asking if he could call her, and the third asking if she would go with him to Kensington had both gone ignored—or unseen—either way he hadn’t heard from Lizzie at all the entire day and it made him uneasy wondering what he would return home to find.

It definitely crossed his mind that maybe he shouldn’t go back to the flat. That maybe it would be better to kill time and give Lizzie her space. That he was too scared to face her. But at his core he was desperate to see her, to be near her—to touch her and hold her and hear her. So even if she wanted nothing to do with him, Eric wanted absolutely everything to do with her. And it was that very desperation that sent him straight home, clutching his iPod in his pocket as though she would call him at any moment. Not that it would matter because until he reconnected to wifi he was alone and completely off the grid.

His breath caught in his throat when he turned the corner to see Lizzie nearing the house and going straight up to the front door. Where had she been? Had she been out all day? That would possibly explain her silence, but at the same time it wasn’t like her to be so unresponsive. Or to be without her phone for that long. Eric felt like he was doing an impossible puzzle in his head. All the pieces were the same color and while he had managed to construct the border, he was unsuccessful in completing any of the body of it because everytime something seemed like it should fit—it just didn’t.

His steps slowed, dragging his feet while his survival instincts screamed at him to turn and run. Not from Lizzie specifically but this entire situation as a whole. Too many times he had been on the receiving end of someone’s feelings and he was honestly terrified to find out what would happen next. Eric had learned early on as a kid to avoid even his own mother if she was upset because her intoxicated state left her completely unpredictable. And while she herself had never lashed out at him, others had enough times that the fear was still so deeply rooted within him that he was too scared now to even approach his love. The one who brought him safety and security now had him on edge and questioning everything. That morning he had been so sure that time would heal their wounds and by lunch she would have texted him back and they would be more or less back to normal. But that hadn’t happened…nothing he had anticipated and prepared for had happened. He thought he knew Lizzie well but today proved that she was still a wild card and she felt so incredibly far away from him even now as he slowly but surely closed the distance between them until he found himself face to face with her in front of the flat.

”H-Hi.”

”Hi,” His heart was racing, and while Eric did initially make the effort to meet her gaze, he quickly looked just up and over her shoulder to try and alleviate the pressure he was putting himself under. Usually Lizzie was the person he felt the most comfortable with, but right now he felt so awkward. He didn’t know how to proceed from here. Was he supposed to continue where they left off last? To find some closure or agreement after everything that had been said between them? Or would it be better to pretend as though nothing had happened and just move on? No…that didn’t feel right. That didn’t feel like them. But Eric wasn’t ready to dive back into the heavy, and certainly not alone—not without Lizzie returned to his side. And after being without her all day; after his lonely morning with no words of love or kisses farewell, after not hearing from her while at work…he couldn’t just move on as though he hadn’t been struggling alone ever since they left the cemetery yesterday.

After Lizzie had retreated to their room last night, Eric was up all night in the common room…well, alone with a couple more drinks. They succeeded in slowing his thoughts enough to allow his body to calm down and by the time his exhaustion fully set in, his emotions had regulated enough to shed his anger and he was just left with deep sad longing for Lizzie. He moved her from Ricki’s side of the room to their own bed, taking his time and relishing every moment of contact. It had felt like so long ago since he had touched her even though it had only been a number of hours since they stood together in front of his mother’s grave. If he hadn’t been sobering up by then he probably would have made an effort to wake her up. To hold her close and finally find the physical comfort he had been craving despite the rift between them. But he didn’t. He managed to change and climb into bed beside her, but that was it. He never got to pull her close, never wrapped his arms around her, never settled down, and he had to then carry his residual emotions with him all day today in addition to his nerves and stress.

“...did you go out?”

It was a dumb question. Well it wasn't really a question, not in this instance. It was more like an invitation. Obviously Lizzie had left the flat, otherwise she wouldn’t be standing at the door with her keys out all bundled up from walking in the snow. But Eric didn’t want to just outright ask why she hadn’t responded to any of his messages. He was too scared that it would evolve into another fight between them considering just two nights ago that very same topic had been the initial spark that set Lizzie off on him. So instead he passed it on to Lizzie to decide whether or not she would explain herself. Which she did…mostly.

She told him of her prior whereabouts, but there was no mention of her lack of communication throughout the day. Still, Eric did not dare bring it up himself. He wasn’t brave enough to ask why she had been ignoring him all day—or if she had even gotten any of his messages. Instead he just stood in silence, but his eyes did flicker back down to her, ending his previous avoidance as his flight instincts settled and allowed him to once more find calm and security in Lizzie’s presence. He was however, still clearly uncomfortable with how things were between them. It was obvious in the way his fingers fiddled at his side instead of holding her close like he wanted to. How his mouth parted ever so slightly as though wanting to say something only to press back together in order to wet his lips that would no doubt be chapped if he stayed out in the cold much longer. When he did finally speak up it was the split second he heard her inhale as though about to say something herself, ”Let’s go inside, love. It’s cold…”

Eric didn’t accompany her into the bedroom, once again opting to turn early and occupy the common room instead. As much as he wanted so badly to go back to their normal routines, he didn’t know how to get there; he couldn’t just bounce back after the pain of physically feeling the tear in their bond. He dropped his backpack on the floor at the corner of the couch and his coat next, draping it over the arm. But other than that, Eric didn’t know what to do with himself. This wasn’t like last night when he was sad, and angry, and just wanted to dissolve into oblivion. But he also didn’t want to just shadow Lizzie until things felt normal again. He was very much stuck and as such his feet refused to move from where he stood.

If he sat down on the couch there was no telling how long he would stay there. He could move to the kitchen except that his anxieties had once again stolen his appetite and even the thought of eating right now tied his stomach in a twisted knot. He could go change out of his uniform but…that meant seeing Lizzie. A stressed sigh escaped him as he looked back towards the double doors. He didn’t mean to hide from or avoid her…he was just so scared to be in the same room. Scared that if he let his guard down and allowed himself back into their bubble that they would fight again, that he would get hurt—that he would hurt her.

But this time Eric’s magnetic love for her was stronger than his fears. While other times he had pushed her aside because he was afraid of what would happen, right now his own wounds were still too raw to be ignored. He needed to be near her, even if she might hate him, or yell at him, or blame him. After spending the entire day so completely and utterly alone and shut out, Eric was weak and vulnerable and craved the safety and stability that he felt being at Lizzie’s side.

As he slowed to stand in the doorway to their bedroom, Eric took notice that Lizzie’s back was to him. She was standing between the two beds and clearly looking downward at something in her hands—based off her positioning he could safely assume that it was her phone—and Eric felt the knots of his stomach tighten and threaten to implode. Was she telling someone about them? Her friends back home? Or her sisters? Or maybe she got a message from her internship? Or a classmate? Or—

His brain was racing back and forth for every possible reason she could be on her phone. Trying to find any excuse to justify why she hadn’t spoken to him all day long but was able to reply to someone else the second she got home.

She hadn’t heard his footsteps, Eric could tell from the surprise that flashed across her face when she turned to leave and saw him in the doorway instead. Lizzie’s explanation began as a nonverbal reaction, her expression softening into one of guilt or regret before she admitted that she just saw his messages. Her apology immediately followed as Lizzie went on to try and explain how she had left her phone at the flat all day and so had missed all his texts.

He probably should have been upset with her, but honestly Eric was just relieved that she was okay. And that even if she had been avoiding him all day; not that she had explicitly said she had, that was somehow easier to accept than the thought of her seeing his messages but then actively ignoring him.

He probably should have told her to never do that again, but whether it was a plea or demand, Eric didn’t have the right to say something like that. Not after he had done the very same only worse. He had completely vanished from her life without a word and so surely what he felt could only be a fraction of what she had experienced back in October. Maybe…rationally he thought so anyways, but at his core his heart had been tormented by her silence all day long and it was difficult to separate his emotions from logical thought right now.

Compared to other people, everything involving Lizzie felt a thousand times more extreme. If a friend brought him a tea, that might make him happy. But if Lizzie brought him a tea, then his entire day was made and for that brief moment he would feel like nothing in the world could ever get him. If his friend was having a bad day then he would feel bad for them and want to help however he could. But if Lizzie was having a bad day then nothing else in the world mattered to Eric and he would push all cares and responsibilities aside to be there for her.

And it all worked in reverse. Like how not getting a text back from anyone else wouldn’t be that big a deal to him. He of all people understood being absolutely swamped and not having the time or mental capacity to reply to a text message. But not getting a text back from Lizzie had him on the edge of his seat all day and physically hurting with every hour that went by in silence.

”I…”

If he were to be completely honest, he didn’t want to talk through this. Eric was too traumatized by the last couple conflicts they’d had and to address this now just felt like he was tossing a dry log on the fire.

”I’m just glad you’re okay,” His voice was low and soft, at a level that wouldn’t travel outside of their bubble. Not that anyone was even home to hear them, but his words were for her ears only and he didn’t want anything else to come between them. And as his eyes connected with hers, Eric felt the tiniest sense of relief wash through him. He could see from the way her own body relaxed that she too had been anticipating a much larger reaction from him and that helped reassure Eric that he’d finally made a good decision by not letting this blow up between them. Maybe they would talk it through later, maybe they wouldn’t, but right now Eric just so desperately wanted to feel their connection again.

He approached, slowly at first and then making use of his long strides till he stood directly before her in between the two beds in the room, ”I…”
Why was he so nervous? What was there to be nervous about? If they were going to argue again then surely it would have happened already.
”Are you hungry…?”
Eric watched as Lizzie first glanced back to her phone screen as though checking the time, and then looked back up to him with a hint of confusion before asking about tea with his grandparents. After all, he had asked her earlier if she would go with him.

Tension spread up from his spine and out through his shoulders as dread filled him. Eric’s bravery after his phone call with Olivia had worn off hours ago and he had returned to wanting nothing to do with his grandparents, ”No…we don’t…”

”It’s already late, we don’t need to go.”

But as Lizzie braved sharing her opinion, Eric’s resolve quickly crumbled until he found himself sitting behind the wheel of his little red Fiesta; the heater hard at work trying to bring the temperature up to anything above freezing. The drive to Kensignton was almost as uncomfortable as bringing Lizzie to Barking had been. Eric tried to share what little he remembered of his grandparents in an effort to prepare her for what they were potentially walking into, but as they passed the cemetery his grip on the wheel tightened and his throat along with it until they finally were parked in front of the large white house he had never imagined ever seeing again. And after another few minutes of procrastination in the car, Eric dragged his feet all the way up to the front door, watching all hope of leaving vanish as Lizzie rang the doorbell.

“Eric!” While his grandmother sounded genuinely shocked to see him, there was still a level of forced and calculated sweetness that had Eric bracing against this entire event, “We were expecting you at five and didn’t think you were coming anymore,” He parted his lips, the softest beginnings of an apology forming before she continued on without giving him a chance to speak, “So we had the table cleared already. But no matter, come in, come in.” He had felt his stomach climbing up into his throat the entire time she spoke, only to drop without warning as his grandmother stepped back just enough to create space in the entryway for them to pass.

Eric’s grip on Lizzie’s hand increased along with his hesitance. He wasn’t entirely sure why though. It wasn’t like he was scared to be here. His grandparents didn’t frighten him the way seeing his house in Barking did. And while sure, he didn’t particularly like them…he also only had a handful of experiences to even draw from. As he had told Lizzie in the car ride over, he had only been four or so years old when he and his mother moved out of his grandparents’ house in Kensington and he only had a few scattered memories of coming back for family events in the earlier years before she dove into the deep end. His grandparents had never gone to visit them in Barking, at least not that he was aware of. And his mother only spoke of them if he had asked. Then she had passed and he suddenly saw and interacted with them more in those couple weeks leading up to the funeral than he ever had in all the years combined since leaving their house. Eric’s relationship with his grandparents was very much that of when you meet someone who knew you as a baby and so they feel entitled to you and think they know you but you have no recollection of them and it makes you very uncomfortable with how close and personable they act.

“Eliza!! Eric is here, set the table for tea!” The door shut behind them and then there was overwhelming silence for a moment and Eric watched as his grandmother internally debated with herself over addressing Lizzie. It seemed as though her impulsive instinct was to make proper introductions but that she felt she missed the opportunity and was now just going to sweep it all under the rug and pretend like she wasn’t making everything even more awkward.

”Eric, you two can go sit in the drawing room to wait, I’m going to go let your grandfather know you’re here.”

As if he hadn’t heard her shouting through the house just a minute ago.

But Eric was thankful for the momentary reprieve from his grandmother as she left them by the door. Feeling Lizzie’s thumb rubbing the back of his hand drew his attention down to her and the small reassuring smile she offered. Had they not been recovering from a rocky past couple days, Eric might have shot her an ‘I told you so’ look. He hadn’t wanted to come here and he had known it would not be so simple as just meeting for tea. Nothing was simple when it came to his grandparents, and while he had made an effort on the drive over to warn her about what they could potentially be walking into, it just wasn’t the same as experiencing it first hand.

They had only sat down for maybe five minutes before his grandmother returned to fetch them, insisting they follow her and that Eric’s grandfather would be down in just a little bit. The house didn’t feel like it had changed one single bit over the five years since he had last been here. Everything was exactly as he remembered it and it was honestly making him sick to his stomach as his memories of everything surrounding his mother’s funeral infiltrated his thoughts.

Eric tried to banish those memories. He truly tried to remain present and focus on Lizzie’s hand in his. He tried to not get lost in his sadness or let his anger bubble back up—but as they entered the next room he saw the very same china set out that had been used for his mother’s reception, and Eric felt his emotions ignite.

There was also only enough set out for the three chairs at the table…

“Oh, Eliza. We’ll need another place set for Eric’s friend—”

”Lizzie is my girlfriend.”​

​