MAGNETIC [H.S.]

49. for all time

song: passenger seat - death cab for cutie

The day just seemed to drag on, taunting me. Hours crept by so slowly, as slow as the dark clouds were moving across the sky.

There was no sunspot for Evie to bathe in, no birds chirping wildly outside my windows, everything was just still. Everything was so quiet and I was so aware of my aloneness, it made me uncomfortable. I craved a loud room, the warmth that made you a little claustrophobic when everyone was talking and shouting and moving at once.

I was well-rested, sleep came easily the night before with the knowledge that I'd see her so soon. I dreamt of soft things, mundane things, her hair in the sun when it's messy in the mornings, the way she glared at herself in the mirror when she'd drop toothpaste on her shirt. I dreamt of the way her legs looked curled up on my couch and the way her skin wasn't always soft because she would only remember lotion on "self-care" days. I dreamt of her laughing with Louis, coughing through the smoke in her lungs as they made fun of the rest of us. I dreamt of her happy and woke up feeling more peaceful than I had in months.

My morning moved as slow as the hours. I made coffee and winced at the feel of the cold chair against the bare skin of my back when I sat down. I scrolled through my phone, answering clients in between sips, and turned on the t.v. to find a cooking show that would inevitably inspire me to cook myself breakfast.

It took me about twenty minutes to dice the veggies and prep everything to make myself an omelet. I found myself just staring at the clock, willing the time to disappear so I could leave.

I spent a couple of hours working, listening back to the tracks that Niall and I had been working on. I scribbled down some sloppy notes about things that I wanted to tweak and adjustments to be made. I abandoned that notebook on the table when I made a mad dash for Evie as she tried to knock over the picture frames on my bookshelf.

I spent a couple more hours with her on the couch. She purred softly while she napped on my chest and my fingers mindlessly petted her while I watched some Mark Wahlberg movie on t.v. and tried not to check my phone for the hundredth time.

I found myself counting backward, trying to figure out when it was acceptable to start getting ready. If I had to be there by 6:00, I could get there by 5:30 and maybe be there before her. That meant I could leave my apartment by 3:30 to make it into the city, and there might be traffic so really I could leave at 3:00. If I did one of those face masks Ashton always left in my bathroom and like clipped my toenails I could probably stretch getting ready into an hour-long process, and if I stopped at the store to get wine or something for their big announcement, I could justify leaving by 2:30, which meant I had an hour and a half before I had to leave.

I lit a joint and made a sandwich that I could only stomach a few bites of before my nerves got the better of me. Seeing Ashton had never made me this nervous before. I'd always had the upper hand in our interactions, but now, she held most of the cards. It was up to her which way we flipped.