Summary: Ever since leaving New York months ago, (Y/N) has been sulking in a city in the middle of nowhere, far from what she used to call home. Now, she has to go back to New York, for her best friend's wedding.
(Words: 4k) (Angst, a bit Bitter-Sweet)
(For Vol.1 of Rose-Colored Glasses, visit 5SOS Book Vol.1)
Dedicated to Samanddean18, who has supported this fic immensely.
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"I still cannot believe you are getting married next weekend." I say to my friend Chrissy over the phone as I unlock the door to my apartment. I step out of my shoes, leave my purse on the console by the door, and hang my coat on the coat rack hanging on my door.
"I know. I barely had time to even process it myself. You are sure you are going to make it for the bachelorette's on Thursday?" She asks me and I hum in agreement.
"Worst case scenario, I land Thursday evening. I leave my bags in my hotel room and I come straight to the party."
"Do you know how much I have missed you?" She sighs and I smile to myself.
"You are going to see my pretty face in a couple of days. Are you ready for the big day?" I ask, earning a sarcastic chuckle from her.
"In all honesty, Timothy seems more ready than I do."
"It is still unbelievable that you are marrying the waiter from that one night out."
"Who would have thought, right?" She giggles.
"Well, no one. But we are all certainly way too happy for the two of you. You both deserve happiness." I coo and she sighs.
"Don't get me crying today. I have just had my lashes lifted."
"We better hang up then. I have quite the emotional comments to make."
"Go then. Maybe you will finally pack your bag for the trip..."
"I am leaving in 6 days. I have more than plenty of time to get my bags ready."
"I swear to God, (Y/N)... If you leave things for the very last minute, I am flying over to gut you."
"Oi, that's kinda harsh, isn't it?" I ask and she snores.
"I think it is a pretty fair punishment. I am hanging up. Talk to you later?"
"Sure. Give Timothy my best." I press the end icon, throwing my phone on my couch as I begin undressing.
Working at the museum becomes more of a routine than an excitement nowadays. I do the same things, I give the same tour, I see the same faces almost every day. And the restriction of living in a small town doesn't leave me with many options to fill my days. It is unfair that I had to leave New York while he is still there, living his life, as usual, dating whoever he wants to. Nothing changed for him after I left, but I cannot say the same about me. I had to leave, I had to disappear since I knew from the very first moment he would want me back.
Not because he loved me, but because he saw me as a possession.
But even leaving was futile; flesh and bones, I saw him before me, not too long after I was gone. I knew the day would come, I was prepared for it; it is not like I had left the country and erased my prior existence. If I am honest, I expected him to put more of a fight, and I don't know how I feel about the fact he didn't. Maybe that's how much I meant for him. But of course, I knew that, from that night in Rome, when he showed me how dispensable I was to him. Almost a year after and I am still hurting over it.
I put my pajamas on and walk towards the little fishbowl I have on the little counter by my kitchen. I drop a couple of fish food flakes in the bowl, making the goldfish swim fast towards the floating pieces.
"Eat up, Harry." I cheer, tapping the glass softly.
"When was the last time you flirted?" Chrissy asks and I shrug.
"I don't even remember anymore." I shout, trying to be heard over the loud music of the night club we ended up after what was supposed to be a calm sushi dinner with the gals.
"I figured. That dude has been eyeing you for more than an hour. Haven't you noticed?" She asks.
"He seems creepy. An hour is definitely too long to be staring at someone." I brush it off, ignoring her eye roll.
"Am I missing something? Are you dating someone back in that village you are staying in?" She asks me.
"It is not a village. And no, I am not dating anyone, nor I wish to." I sigh, sitting back and taking a sip from my gin and lemonade.
"Are you saying you are done dating?" She asks, knitting her eyebrows together.
"Yes. I am done. If it happens, it happens. But I am done, done done..." I reply. "Girl... You are not even in your mid-20s, you are hot as the sun and you can have whoever you want. You cannot possibly be thinking of not dating anymore."
"I am. I don't need the drama of it, the pressure, the expectations. I want for once for things to happen naturally. And if I am supposed to be with someone, I want it to occur naturally. So, until it is, I am done." I explain. She sits back, takes off the cheap bachelorette crown, and leans her head against my shoulder.
"Does this decision have anything to do with Harry?" She asks, hesitant to let it out completely. I stay silent, looking at my fidgeting fingers.
"No need to answer that. I can tell." She sighs deeply, making me huff.
"Men, right?" I chuckle.
"You are barking at the wrong tree, love. I am so smitten with mine, I am actually marrying him." She teases and I shake my head.
"Look at you, settling down. And I thought I would never see the day..."
