Death By A Thousand Cuts

Chandelier's Still Flickering Here

Edgar's on 3 hp and on the attacking side. The bomb's planted and beeping furiously in his headphones. The enemy peeks, and he hides. Five slow seconds pass before his computer screen is engulfed in a black explosion.

Attackers win!

"GG EZ NOOBS!" Edgar yells into his headset. He leans back, stretching. He grabs his phone.

No notifications.

He checks his Ignored Messages folder anyway, defeating its purpose. He doesn't expect to see a fresh message from Colette.

Colette
9:31pm
Can we meet? It's okay if you don't want to. But I want to take back what I said.

He stares. Way to ruin the relaxation of that last win. The blood in his ears almost mimics the bomb again, ticking, beeping, counting down until he explodes for good. He swallows, wiping the sweat from his hand on his shorts.

Edgar
9:47pm
What

Colette
9:47pm
Im really sorry. If you still want, can we meet at the playground near your house?

Edgar almost laughs. So she could play his heart more?

Edgar
9:48pm
What are you talking about. When. why

Colette
9:50pm
Edgar, I don't want to bother you too much. I'll go there tomorrow at 3.

Edgar
9:50pm
What do you want

Colette
9:51pm
I'm taking back what happened last week. if you still want

He wants to curse. Now he won't be able to sleep.

Edgar
9:55pm
K

He doesn't play anymore. The computer shut down and the blanket tossed on and off his body, his mind swims until well past midnight.

-

At 3:19pm the next day, Edgar walks to the playground. His jacket can't stop the chills running through his skin. He almost wishes she weren't sitting there on one of the stone seats. What right does she have to look so tired?

"Hey," she says, standing up.

Edgar stares at her.

"Okay, I know you're mad at me. I'm sorry. And I know I've said sorry a lot but— okay, I meant it. But, I'm sorry." She cringes. "I was wrong."

Edgar swallows. He's not gonna cry.

"That we weren't working?" She looks down. He wishes he could fast forward all the answers out of her.

"I was impulsive. I wasn't thinking, okay?"

"And now you're thinking?"

"Yeah," she meets his eyes, glinting with anger for a second before releasing the tension, "I— I'm thinking. Edgar, I was— I know this sounds stupid." She breaks eye contact. "Sometimes the things you say hurt me. And I thought it just—"

"Oh, you thought I meant to?" Edgar says before can stop himself.

"I know you didn't," she says firmly. "I know you didn't, but, you know sometimes it isn't enough—" How can it not? "—I mean," Colette breathes. "I know it's a part of you. I loved you. I love you. But I thought it couldn't change."

"You thought what couldn't change?"

"That you say things like that. And I thought we weren't working. And I thought I would accept it. But it's not like I wanted to. But that's beside the point." She looks at him uncomfortably seriously. "I'm sorry I never told you when you said those things. I'm sorry I just gave up. I still understand if it's a part of you that you can't change but, I still should've told you."

He blinks multiple times.

"Like, what things? What did I say?"

"Things like, uh, when you said you won't play games with me anymore, and when you say I'm demanding, and when you poke fun at stuff in my notebooks, because that's important to me, or when you leave me on seen."

"What— oh frick, no," he bites his lip, trying to think of a better way to say he didn't mean those, he thought it was okay. "Wait, I really didn't mean it." She makes a sorry smile.

"I'm glad to hear that." He sucks his teeth.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. That was just a joke when I said I wouldn't play with you anymore, frick, I was raging— I shouldn't have—"

"No, I mean, I didn't tell you—"

"And I thought you didn't mind the demanding thing, I just thought you found it funny, and I didn't know your notebooks were like— that I couldn't joke about them," he takes in a breath, "and I always read your messages, I promise, I do read them," he frowns to keep from choking on his words.

"I'm glad— thank you for telling me that." Her voice poorly conceals the shaking. He would've hugged her if he had the right to. "But it's not your fault. Not really. 'Cause I should have told you, and I only thought about it now, 'cause I kept thinking what if things were different, you know, and," she gestures with her sleeve flapping before wiping her eyes, "Yeah."

It's so stupid, Edgar almost wants to say, because it's his default response to the slightest inconvenience and he's still mad about suffering for a week, and he wants to kick himself too for saying all those things, and then maybe none of this would've happened, but here they are. Colette speaks again, softly.

"I understand if you don't want to, but, can we still be together again?"

He wishes they never had to break up.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to change you." He would've changed anything for her. He would've turned into a cactus, turned into a robot, anything she wanted. Sobs come out his mouth instead of words. He forcefully yanks the hood of his jacket over his head, pulling the strings to close it. "Oh god, I'm sorry," Colette says, her voice coming closer as she holds his shoulders. "It's not your fault, okay? I'm sorry. It's okay if you don't want to anymore. Do you still want to be friends? I'm sorry."

Edgar sniffs, his diaphragm a crushing vacuum, the tightened hood shielding his tear-streaked face from her. "I—I didn't mean it. I won't do it again. Promise."

"I know you didn't mean it..." she rubs his shoulders. She hiccups. "I believe you. Will you give me a chance again?" Her voice is too gentle. Scratchy but gentle. So sorry. That all too familiar voice and the way it lifts and dips. He wants to push her and yell the same thing he's been repeating like a mantra 24/7, I don't need you, leave me alone, leave me alone — but that's the stupidest thing on the planet and his lungs are collapsing.

"I don't need—" Edgar whispers so softly he can't even hear himself. Her hands stay put. He swallows, tears falling. His face is suffocating in the heat of this hood. He clenches and opens his fists.

She doesn't say anything.

It's not working, he hears her voice again. I don't need you anymore, his own voice yelling the last time they called. He's shaking like a wimp who crashes after thirty seconds of planking. A wimp who breaks down after a week of being away from her. Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts.

He throws himself into her arms.

"Please— please, please— please take me back, please—" he sobs.

Colette is shaking, but she hugs him too. "I will," she says, her voice strained. He's drowning in tears.

"I know I— I said I don't need you but I s-still wanna be with you... sorry..." He feels her sharp sniffling.

"I'm happy to hear that, I really am," she moves her arm, probably to wipe her face, "I'm sorry..."

"'S okay..." He hugs her tighter than he can ever remember hugging her, breathing hard. "Please don't give up on me again— like— d-don't do it that fast anymore, please."

"I won't, I'll do better now, I promise..." He clutches her like it's false. He clutches her like it's true. His cheeks are wet but his body is warm, and she's clutches him too. And he's okay now. He's okay.