The Way You'd Loved Her | winrina

Chapter 19

You're gone.

You told me it couldn't be this easy, and then you fled. Feels like I already wrote this, over and over. You leave, and I stay, and that's how it goes.

How do we break this cycle, Winter? Do you want to break it? Do I? I don't know. All I know is... If this is the only way I get to have you... But it can't go on like this, can it? There will be an end to it. A resolution. I don't know if it'll save us or break us, but I know it's coming. We almost reached it last night. I know that's why you ran. I know you're scared of believing me, Winter. I know you're afraid of trusting me with your heart.

And I think you're right. I'm the last person who deserves your heart. But god, I want to be the person who does deserve it. I need to be that person. What if you need me to be that person, too?

I should let you go. But you should let me go, too. And you can't. If you could, I wouldn't be writing this.

What if there's something else? What if we're being told something that we can't hear over our hurt and guilt? What if there's a reason why we keep coming back, and even when we decide to get away, we stumble into each other?

I remember asking you if you thought we were meant to be. Right before our first time. I was upset about Jeno and his words got to me, and I thought that all I wanted was to get my plan back on track. Back then, that question was a ploy. Or so I thought.

You never did reply to that question. I wonder what your answer would be now. I wonder if you'd want to hear what I think. And the truth is, Winter, I don't know. I'm afraid of thinking we are. Because if we are, then... I managed to break your heart, ruin my life, and piss off powers that be, all in two months. Dad did say I was an overachiever sometimes.

But what if we are meant to be? I wish you'd talk to me, Winter. I have so many questions, and I can't find answers without you.

I hate to cut this short, but Giselle's at the door. I'll be back. I feel like I'm on the brink of something, and this helps me think. Talking to you, even if it's not really talking to you.

Love,

Karina.

*

"You look like shit," Giselle announces as soon as Karina throws the door open, giving her an unimpressed glare.

"Thanks," she deadpans. "I'm aware. I do have mirrors, you know."

"Coulda fooled me," her friend pushes past her and makes a beeline to her couch, missing an exasperated eye-roll Karina sends her way as she closes the door. "You're clearly not using them."

Karina glances down at herself, wearing one of Winter's undershirts she's left behind, stretched across her chest, and at the smear of pizza sauce on her sweatpants. Well. "It's not like I was waiting for anyone important," she shrugs, plopping down next to Giselle on the couch.

"Bitch." Giselle's chuckles are amused.

"That is brand new information."

Giselle only chuckles louder, fishing a bottle of whiskey out of her bag and placing it on the coffee table, right where her boots have been before Karina unceremoniously pushed them off the clean surface. "Keep it up and stay sober while I get hammered."

"Damn," Karina raises a dubious eyebrow, eyeing the bottle. Up close, it looks mildly intimidating. It's been awhile since she drank hard liquor. "Jack? What gives, any special occasion I should know about?"