tea stained newpapers. mileven au.

twenty four.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR:
UNTIL WE RUN OUT OF TIME.
EL'S POV.

there's only been a few moments in life where el felt like her heart was going to fall straight down into her stomach, painfully dropping into that swirling pool of acid until that feeling made her want to curl up into a ball and never speak to anyone again.

the first time it happened she was simply a small girl, sitting in the corner of a sterile hospital room just after her sister's delicate wrist went limp in her hand.

it was a dark time, but the feeling that crept into her mouth at that moment felt foreign. as if she was disconnecting from reality, excluding even the thought of living throughout life without her sister by her side.

it seemed unbelievably impossible during that time and even after all these years, most days it still does.

ironically enough, in that memory she also remembers her parents being distant from the other, her mother standing next to the door covering her mouth to muffle her heart aching sobs while her father sat on the opposite side of sara, his head pressed down onto the mattress of that painfully white bed while he held both of his daughter's hands.

it was symbolic in a way, how during something so awful that the gentle old man she calls her dad was pressing distinct rhythmic patterns into the her palm in order to calm her flooding hurt while her mom decided to stay as far as she could from the situation.

to think of it now, it was sort of sick to realize that the answers to all her life problems were so plainly painted in front of her at that very moment.

which explains why the second instance she felt this feeling was when she found out her mother's true intentions for leaving new york, that selfish women's mind only full of thoughts of starting a new life with a different man than the loss of her child.

and during a situation like that, you would think the feeling in her stomach would tell her to scream, yell at that human she is forced to call her mother for absolutely ruining her childhood... for taking her away from her father.

though, it didn't.

instead it caused her to hold her heart tight in her chest, her lungs supporting that slipping organ while she threw all her belongings into a single suitcase before drifting away into the dead of night. she was composed, one might even say calm. it was as if she was just a shadow, plainly following in silence to the next destination life would bring her.

and that's exactly how she planned to deal with the situation she was in right now.

as she sat in that car next to her beloved writer boy, her hands resting firmly on the wheel and her eyes only focusing on the road in front of them in efforts to shield herself from how his caring orbs were not matching his cold features.

he was unbelievably still, quiet. and even though it was the complete worst timing to want to be even slightly flirtatious, she couldn't help but to admit that she wanted to reach out to him, to caress her thumb across his cheekbones in order to calm his seriousness.

but she couldn't.

not yet at least.

to think of it now, it was so odd being here sitting next to him like this. truthfully, she should say that this exact scenario played out much differently in her head when she first discussed with lucas the idea to corner the writer after their interview a few days prior.