Elliot had been in a blissful sleep for hours when the serene silence of her apartment was breached, and several loud bangs woke her from her rest. Started from her sleep, the blonde let out a groan and rolled over beneath her covers, blindly tossed her head back and then, when there were no more signs of suspicious activity, she lowered her head back to her pillow. It was maybe three in the morning - she was probably just hallucinating.
And then it happened - bang, bang, bang. The loud thuds came from within her apartment, and Elliot furrowed her eyebrows as she attempted to think of a source for the sound. Moments later, her phone began ringing.
She released a groan as she blindly moved her hand around, searching for the noise-making object with just her fingertips. Knowing that she was about to be blinded, she covered half of her field of vision with her blanket before picking the offending device up.
Poppy. If the furrow in her brows could get any deeper, it would have. It had been maybe a year since she'd last seen that name pop up on her screen, and quite honestly she never expected to see it again. She still remembered the last time she saw it like it was yesterday - a man's voice was on the line when she answered the call, telling her she was a whore before Poppy's flowing tone interjected and told her that they couldn't be friends any more.
But here they were now, and after a moment of contemplation Elliot answered the phone.
"What do you want?" Her tone came out harsh and defensive, and in a way she was still trying to protect herself from the pain that had come with Poppy leaving her life. For years they had been side by side, virtually inseperable. A drunk make out had ruined all of that. They should have known that, but in the moment all Elliot had been able to think about was the taste of cherry on Poppy's full lips and the way her tongue tasted like oranges. She'd given in to urges that she shouldn't have, but Poppy had spoken of finally leaving the man who was hurting her and all Elliot had wanted was her, her and only her.
She hadn't left him, though, even though she'd said she would, and that night Elliot lost her best friend and her world. She'd be lying if she tried to say that it didn't still sting.
"Ellie? Ellie, I'm, uh, I'm outside your door. Can you flease-pplease let me in?" There was a desperate plea in Poppy's words. She stammered and tripped over her words, speaking faster than her normal soft, slow tone. To Elliot, it was the most beautiful thing she could ever hear, though, and she was begrudgingly (but still quite willingly) pulling herself out of bed half way through Poppy's words.
"Yeah, just wait a moment and I'll unlock the door." She sat up at the edge of her bed and ended the call before using her hands to support her body. She stretched her back, causing her vertebrae to crack, and then pushed herself to her feet. She walked half-blindly over to her dresser and grabbed the loose tank top that was sitting on top of it to cover her bare torso, and pulled on a pair of shorts that were sitting right beside where the shirt was.
Elliot hesitated before she opened the door. A year later and she still wanted to be Poppy's everything, but now that she was faced with an opportunity to reunite, she was scared. Her pulse raced, throbbing in her jugular and wrists, and she swallowed the ball that was forming in her throat before she twisted the deadlock on her front door and then pulled her door open.
Poppy didn't look anywhere near like she had before. Her hair, once long and wavy and the perfect shade of chestnut brown, was cut short enough that Elliot couldn't see it past the hood over the dark grey oversized sweater that engulfed her tiny body. Their eyes met as Elliot went to move, clearing the pathway in for Poppy, and then the taller of the two froze completely in spot.
Poppy's skin, once soft and clear and pale, was covered in bruises that Elliot could see even through the cover of Poppy's hood. Her cheeks were sunken, lost of the fullness that Elliot had once loved, and Elliot swore that she could see a long laceration across Poppy's right cheek - or maybe that was another discoloration.
She wanted to puke, right then and there.
Once upon a time, she'd wished pain upon this girl back when the hurt was fresh and stung like a razor. She'd never imagined it would actually happen.
"I know, I must look pretty awful..." There was a pregnant pause that neither of them had the nerve to break. "Can... Can I come in?"
Fuck, she'd been staring. Broken out of her trance, Elliot immediately ushered Poppy in to her apartment and closed the door behind it, locking the door simultaneously. Poppy's mouth opened to speak but Elliot didn't let her. Instead she wrapped the smaller girl in a tight hug and didn't let go. It had been long, too long. She'd spent a year never seeing her, never talking to her and now... Now this. It took Poppy a moment to relax enough to respond, but once she did her arms were wrapped just as tightly around Elliot's waist and she rested her forehead against the crook of the older girl's neck.
"What happened?" Elliot still hadn't released her, instead she was revelling in the fact that Poppy was here and she was alive and she was with her.
"Jack." She murmered the single word as her hands moved up Elliot's back, grasping at her shoulderblades. "I'm - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have chosen him, I shouldn't have stopped talking to you, I shouldn't have let him..."
As much as Elliot wanted to hear those words, she wished that they were said under different circumstances.
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