In that moment, I anticipated many things that could’ve happened. Tori answering the door and then slamming it as soon as she saw my face. Tori not being there. A different person surprised to see a tattooed stranger at their doorstep, looking ridiculous holding a stuffed bear. Time slowed down as the doorknob began to twist open.

What I didn’t anticipate was to be broken even more from seeing who stood before me.

I drew in a violent breath when I saw her. The first thing was the dark shadows making permanent crescents under her eyes. She seemed exhausted, not just physically but mentally too. It was hard to believe that she was the same happy and bright person from six months ago. And I bet I had looked like that too once I had come back to San Diego. Defeated with no intention of changing.

Her limp blonde hair had lost its shine and framed her awfully sallow face. Her skin was as thin as paper. Nothing underneath but bone. Her jaw and cheekbone protruded from her face. And her eyes—her beautiful blue eyes were empty, rimmed with red. As if they glanced over everything without ever truly seeing anything.

She was a lot smaller too. Her singlet was loose on her and the neckline exposed the bumps of her ribcage and collarbone. Her arms were still at her sides, looking they could break if you held them too hard and gripped too tightly. Her hands were splattered in red, as were her pants and her hair. If the shade was any darker, I would’ve been afraid that the red came from her rather than paint.

I wanted to cry out for the girl I saw a few days before leaving. She had been replaced by a ghost who had stolen her soul and left her weak. Damaged. Broken, just as I had been. And maybe even worse. I wanted her to be happy, whether it meant I was in the picture or out of it. I just wanted her to be okay. I thought I’d let the suffering be all on me.

It was all my fault. I brought all of this on her. there were times when I had felt leaving the way I did was a regret and now I knew it was one of the deepest that I’ve had. It was something I couldn’t forgive myself for. Here I was, thinking that she would’ve been just fine when she was really the opposite. I suspected that she’d move on and continue living life better than I would have. But it still clear, I was missing from her just as much she was missing from me. All I could do now was to make it better—if she did too.

We stood facing one another, waiting for the other person to speak. Despite her fragile state, she was still beautiful. She was still there, only trapped by who knows what. We were each other’s undoing, each other’s remedy. No matter how many times I had convinced myself that it was better to have stayed away from her, I still loved her. She was my Tori.

What happened to my sweet girl from Phoenix?

She let out a smile but it didn’t feel right. It was pained and sorrowful. A smile that was given when you had given up bothering to keep your walls up. One that showed you had given up long ago.

“I’ve gone crazy,” she said, that smile forming into a chuckle. Her shoulders where shaking, her bottom lip quivering. She didn’t stop the tears from spilling over. “I’ve really gone crazy if I think I’m seeing you,” she added, this time quietly. She sniffed, trembling even more as she did. Another agonising smile. “This isn’t happening. I fell asleep again didn’t I?”

There were chills raising bumps on my skin despite the heat. I felt scared. She might’ve not been here if I had waited any longer. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if she was gone.

I dropped my bag and the bear and went towards her, pulling her close, but gently. Even her shoulders were bony. It was so easy for her to get broken, and she almost was. I hated myself for only thinking of myself the night I left. I left behind the only thing that really mattered. I knew that we had such a long way to forgiveness and healing. Things weren’t going to be the way they were overnight. I didn’t think they would ever be the same. But there was no doubting that I was going to stick around, for good this time.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, choking on her words. “I’m so sorry. It was all my fault. My fault…”

I wanted to say that it was all mine. I had pushed her away when I should have stayed to hear her side of the story. I wanted to explain. But all I could do was hold her because I was so close to losing her.

She continued to cry and apologise in between. Her tears seeped through my shirt and it made me wonder if I was the source of any other tears she may have cried. Each one felt like a cut against my skin. A thousand paper cuts. Her pain was mine.

I had forgotten how much I had missed her. There were days when I felt that I couldn’t do anything because everything somehow circled back to her and all those bad memories. It was like her ghost followed me home and appeared on the days that got really bad. At times, seeing her would make me feel angry—frustrated about her lying and how she kept me at the dark but mostly frustrated at myself for not being there as well as I could’ve been, and bailing out the way I did. And at other times, it made me calm down, especially when I drifted in between a dream and reality.

My head was trying to process all these mixed feelings. Amongst these emotions, I didn’t expect to feel some sort of relief, especially when I felt her hug me back, her small arms wrapped loosely around mine. It gave me some sort of twisted hope. Though we had screwed up so much, we hadn’t fucked up completely. Her fingers gripped my shirt tightly, as if she was desperate to know that her thoughts hadn’t gotten the best of her. She was trying to make this feel real.

“Hey,” I whispered, moving my hands to cup her face. Her eyes were still a bit bloodshot and her face had a few pink blotches. Despite all of that, she felt cold. I wiped away another tear. “We’re going to be okay.” I made myself swear it.

She attempted to smile, only for it to falter as she shook her head. “You’re going to be gone when I wake up from this.” Her breathing began to hitch. “And…and I’m still going to be alone and I’d have lost everyone that I loved.”

“You haven’t lost anyone,” I replied, patting her back and letting her lay her head against my chest. Her spine bones stuck out like studs. Had it always been this bad or was she fine from the start, only getting worse each day? I shuddered just thinking about it—how stupid I was to think that I was the only one who got hurt.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

I didn’t want to question what she was talking about with what she never told me. That she was Ella? That she loved me? It was something to mention at another time. But it did make me think of one thing—that everything would’ve been different if we had come clean. If I had been honest all those years ago and told her that she was the girl I liked; if she had told me that she was Ella right from the start; if she had said that she was in love with me too then this situation would’ve been so different. It could’ve gone in so many different ways.

Maybe if I had told her, we’ve would’ve been together. It would’ve been easier to tell her about the band and I might have been able to take her to our shows, both around the country and wherever the world took us. We might’ve been together for a very long time, maybe for as long as Jess and Jaime. I might have even asked her to marry me. But at the same time, things could’ve gone so horribly wrong. Things may have worked out for a bit and then all fall apart. Maybe we might’ve still been friends, still wistfully thinking if we could ever be something more. I’ve missed all these possibilities that could’ve been from all the chances I didn’t take. I couldn’t change our past no matter how much I wanted to.

But, even though all our decisions led us to where we were now, I wouldn’t want to change it. For an endless moment, I felt content. She was going to be okay. I was going to be okay. We would be okay. Her real presence was reassurance enough that she’d be safe. We had this. And though this wasn’t what I expected, I held on to the hope that we would, one day, have this all behind us.

---

She fell asleep a few hours later. I had wiped off the paint from her hands and arms, making sure that there weren’t any of those angry red streaks embedded on her skin. She had been quiet, sitting on the corner of her couch staring off into space. Her trembles softened into quivers until she was completely still. I asked her if she wanted food, which was answered by a slight shake of her head. When was the last time she had eaten? I wondered. I wanted to know, but I did not ask. I feared the answer.

I had searched her almost bare kitchen. Her near-empty fridge had nothing of substance, with most foods being past its best before date. It was until I found a box of chicken soup sachets that I considered ordering some food. I offered to her sheepishly, laying it on the coffee table in front of her with a glass of water too, but she continued looking out to the distance, the maze of her mind. Lightly, I touched her hand, to let her know that I was still here. Her skin was still cold. I had opened windows to let the air escape and that somewhat made a difference. It was not as hard to breathe.

I wondered if Tori had felt like she was suffocating.

Just as I was about to retreat my touch, she had linked her fingers through mine. Her fingers were scrawny but her grasp was firm. She didn’t look at me but she didn’t let go. Did she still think that this was some sordid dream she had imagined? I knew she had fallen asleep when her hold loosened slightly and her head tilted to the side. Like before, in what seemed like in another life, she was peaceful.

I had picked her up—she was so frightfully light—and tucked her into her bed. Her room was unkempt. There was a pile of unfolded clothes inside a container and her bed was left unmade. Above all else, it was hot and dusty. I left her window open to let the fresh air in. I didn’t want her to get too hot as she slept.

After making sure she had settled and drifted into her dreams, I got back up and re-entered her living room. It seemed untouched despite the layer of dust accumulating on her furniture, like there had been no life in the past six months.

Something bothered me though. The paint on her hands. Was she working on another project before answering the door? Surely she’d appreciate it if I helped straighten up her workspace. I headed down her hallway, finding an ajar door, its white frame smudged in more red. An accident maybe?

I grew doubtful when I realised that it was fresh. A few hours ago give or take. I held my breath before exposing what was ahead of me.

A hurricane had swept through Tori’s studio. Torn pieces of paper scattered on the floor. A knocked down chair. Paintbrushes of different sizes thrown across the room, splattering the walls on its impact. Broken pencils. Spilt red over the desk, blotched over countless pieces. Frustrated puddles on the floor. The ruins of something so great and tragic.

And it’s all because of you.

I kneeled down before a pile of ripped paper that didn’t get lost in the violence of Tori’s emotions. It was in grey scale and seemed like a still frame of a film. Only did I realise that it wasn’t from a movie, but real life.

It was a photo of me that was taken a few years back. I wasn’t looking directly the camera, instead focusing on the neckline of my then-guitar making sure I didn’t play the wrong chord. it was for her art final in her last year of college. It seemed like a forever ago. Where everything was simpler. I had my music, she had her art and we had each other. now we barely had any of the three.

“I’m sorry, Tori,” I mumbled. I placed my head in my hands. The guilt was terrible. Everything she created, everything she destroyed--it was because of me. Even though I had promised myself to protect her from anyone who made her cry, I couldn’t protect her from myself. Everything was so dim and foggy. I was feeling that haze again.

And this time, it felt like there wasn’t going to be a light.

---

I had little sleep, but Tori had gone through the whole night.

I cleared up most of her art studio. I picked up the loose pieces, mopped the wooden floor and wiped the wall clear of any traces of paint. I couldn’t save the painting she had made but at the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. It felt wrong because they weren’t mine, so I leaned them against the wall for her to decide what to do with them.

When I checked her around one in the morning, I caught my reflection in her mirror. I looked just like her. I had the same eye bags and thin complexion to my face. Another hollow body who got lost along the way. I wondered if her seeing me broke her as much as seeing her did to me.

After tidying up her living room as well, I decided to crash on her couch, hoping that she wouldn't mind. Before so, I checked my phone. Jaime had graciously finished putting together my apartment while keeping my sudden departure low-key. I would always be grateful to how he had come and picked me up when I had no intention of getting up. And now I was doing the same thing, but for Tori.

I woke up a few hours later and the sun was beginning to peak from the horizon. My stomach growled in protest from any of the work I was planning on doing.

Hunting around Tori’s kitchen while trying not to make too much noise, I found enough ingredients to make pancakes. My mom always made them for me whenever I was feeling upset and I made them whenever I felt annoyed or stressed out. It almost always calmed me down. Tori also had chocolate chips available so I added a good helping. I remember her telling me that she loved chocolate.

I had finished flipping the third pancake when I heard a shuffle of footsteps behind me. I placed the pancake on to the plate before turning around to face her. Sure enough, she was there behind the island counter. She looked much better than she did last night and had a few ruffles on her hair.

Her eyes met mine. The blue suited her. They were curious, confused and a bit brighter.

“You’re probably thinking what the hell I’m doing here,” I began, settling down the spatula. “I’m still asking that myself. I hurt you. Again. And this time I don’t have an explanation…and this time I can’t expect you to forgive me. I think I just felt bad for the way I acted and wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

This was hard. I was never one to explain and elaborate. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever was the person to get all deep and serious, not even when we were growing up. But somehow, this felt liberating. This was something that I wanted to get out of my head for the past six months, I guessed.

“I remember this one time, back in high school where everything was just dark and numb and the only thing that made me feel was the thought of an email from you when I got home. And lately, I’ve been feeling like that except this time, there’s nothing to look forward too. You were always there to comfort me when things got rough. Hell, you even stayed on the phone with me all night to calm me down. And looking back…it made me realise that I was a crappy friend.”

Her lips were pursed and her stormy eyes were reflective. She shook her head slightly.

“No, I really was. I had no idea you had anxiety and I guess I didn’t make you feel like I was there enough for you to have told me. I get that. You were always there for me when I needed you and then some—when my dad died, through high school, even on the days when I felt low while on tour. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, especially when you needed me most.”

This pounding pressure in my head intensified. I knew I was a bad friend. I didn’t even think I deserved to call myself one. Friends were supposed to lift their friends up, not drag them down. I was the latter. Tori would have been just as successful of a person, and most likely more, if I had never met her. If we didn’t turn out to be friends. If I was away on the day we sent letters to my elementary sister school in Phoenix.

God, I would’ve hated that life. Though I had gone through pain in my life like everyone else had, the worst ache of all would to have Tori non-existent in mine. That was something I didn’t want to dream.

“I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore,” I shrugged. I couldn’t even look at her properly but instead glanced out the window where the Phoenix metropolis lay before me. “I’ll leave. I’ll delete your number off my phone, remove you as any social media contact. You’ll be okay and eventually I’ll be too. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Deeply.”

Bile was rising in my throat. I wanted her to say something but at the same time I knew that I wasn’t entitled to anything from her anymore. Anxiously, I opened my mouth to say a few more things to grant me closure.

“You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me, Tori Holt. And I’m sorry I screwed things up between us. A world without you was something I never wanted but it serves me right after what I’ve done to you. It’s what I deserve.” I glanced at her, taking her in for one last time. Though it was far from what she normally looked, I was always going to think of her as Ella. How happy she was and how alive she had made me feel in those past few days. And how, in the end, it was all Tori. How I got to fall in love with her twice as well without even knowing it.

“I know I say sorry a lot but I gotta apologise for one last thing,” I murmured.

Tears were a funny thing. Even though you cry so many of them throughout your entire life, your body always seemed to produce more. Even though you cry when you’re a baby, a child, when you’re sad or frustrated or stressed—you somehow had an infinite supply. Some fell delicately from Tori and even I could feel some seeping through.

I took a deep, shaky breath before I said my last words to her. Ever. The sensation was wrong. I wasn’t supposed to stop talking to someone who I had known almost my entire life. Something was blocking me from saying it, deep in my chest. Maybe because once it was out there, I had to leave even though I didn’t want to.

“I’m sorry for loving you, Tori,” I continued, swallowing down my anxiety, my pride. All the memories we had shared. And all those memories had gone to waste. I had stored them for so long, dedicating myself to not forget a single moment. The smiles. The laughter. Even the moments of silence where all I could see was her. But I couldn’t let them go, even if I tried.

I forced myself to move—to head towards my bag that was against the wall. I had barely touched it when I got here, only merely moved it to the side when I was clearing up the place. I felt like I was drifting. I had split in two. Part of me was leaving while the other half did not move.

I picked my bag, slinging it over my left shoulder and sluggishly made my way to the door. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Whether I stayed for a while to rest up or camp at the airport until the next flight to San Diego. I had barely slept, but did not feel tired. I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I could feel the numbness pull me back into its sick embrace. It started crawling on my fingers, making its way to my veins. In a matter of seconds it had rushed up my arms, finding its way to my chest, aiming for my heart. It didn’t matter if it consumed me whole. I didn’t care.

Something prevented it from taking over.

Two arms wrapped around me, a gentle pressure between my shoulder blades. A quiet plea.

“I’m not losing you again.”

I turned, the arms loosening so I could.

Tori looked up at me with those big blue eyes of hers. They held tears and I could imagine that mine did too. Though she was a wreck last night, the light in her eyes brightened. The real her was breaking through. Her ghost was fading. She was strong. And I guess, even after all this time, she was giving me the strength I needed too.

”I’m not losing you again,” she repeated, shaking her head slightly. Who would’ve thought that her voice would be my salvation? I should have known all along, as foolish I was.

Slowly, she raised her hand, her thumb wiping away a stray tear. I let myself lean into her cupped hand. She was still irresistible and everything I wanted to dream about. She was the first one I loved, the first one I lost.

But I knew that I couldn’t answer my saving grace. I had to leave her so that she wouldn’t get hurt. I was protecting her from me. Seeing her cry made me want to die, especially since it was because of me. This was my way of assuring myself that I wouldn’t be the reason for her pain anymore.

“What do I do?” I asked quietly. I was at war with myself. My head and heart were fighting again and I didn’t know who to listen to. I wanted to be here. To be with her. But I had to go.

Never in a million years did I think I deserved this answer. I was met by her bright, starry eyes. For the first time in a while, they seemed to actually see.

“Stay.”

Notes

sappy af im sorry guys

but yay another update :) hope you are all well. to anyone having exams and stuff you've got this and i'm sure you'll do well! look after yourselves!

btw:
-yeah i think i made this chapter so sappy that it's bad so imma hand it over to the belle and brains of the story claire (did you like that starry eyes ref i made hehehe (everyone pls read it, 10/10 would recommend))
-im really sorry if this doesnt make sense
-can jaime have vocals in the new ptv album pls
-and i really like you me at six hence the chapter title

peace out homes x