Zessa

chapter 11

may i have your attention please.

you can all thank ummmmmmzzz for getting me to write this last night (it took 2 hours). and fyi it hasn't even been a month since the last update so i'm getting faster. this is what my armenian calculus teacher calls "an upward-looking trend". his english is a little questionable but don't question it.

enjoy <3

Harry

It's four in the morning, and the stars are a blur before my sleep-fuzzy eyes. I lie on my back on the cold floor, staring listlessly out the window, remembering the sound of her voice when she said I love you. The certainty in her sparkling grey eyes. The tiny half-smile that teased at the corner of her soft mouth. I can still remember the taste of her lips.

"Tessa," I say into the silent, heather-grey stillness of the not-yet-dawn. "Tessa."

Her name sounds different when she's not here to hear it.

"Tessa," I whisper, my voice breaking in my chest. I swallow and feel tears fill my already-swollen eyes. I've cried so much lately. I never knew anything could hurt this bad.

I feel hollow and crumpled, frayed at the edges. My throat is raw. I don't know how to fix it and I don't know how to try. I'm sorry for being me. I'm sorry for who I am. I'm sorry that I can't be who you want me to be, and I'm sorry that I don't know who that is.

My heart is empty, a wrinkled shell, creased at the edges. Everything that was inside me, I poured into her. I gave her everything I had and she kept it. She gave me everything she had and I threw it away with both hands.

I sit up, curling my arms around myself as I try to stifle my dry sobs in my blanket. I have no right to cry. This is all my fault. It was always my fault.

Just one more chance.

I gasp and stutter for breath, my chest aching, my lungs numb.

Just one more chance.

I am stiff with cold and loneliness and regret.

Just one more chance.

If I could go back and do it all over again, I would give her anything she asked for. I would do anything for her, say anything for her, be anything for her. I would've sacrificed my pride. I would've sacrificed my dignity. I would've crawled after her on my hands and knees, kissing the pavements she walked on. I would've breathed her air until she became my world. I would've bled for her and died for her.

Just one more chance.

As if in a trance, I rise to my feet, the blanket spilling off my shoulders like white ink. I can't feel my feet, but they're carrying me down the stairs, out the door, into my car. I can't feel my hands, but they're steering me out of the driveway, into the silken night.

I know where I'm going, but I don't know what I'll say. How can I change her mind? How can I convince her that this time is going to be different, that I'm willing to change everything for her? How can I prove to her that I love her?

The building rises up before me, quick and eager. My hands are slick with sweat and my heart is pounding. I can do this. If I just apologise in the right way, if I say the right things, the things she wants to hear, then she'll come with me. If I can show her how much I'm hurting, she'll give me another chance. She loves me and I love her, and that's the only thing I'm sure of.

The stairs vanish under my feet as I fly upward, my heart racing my pounding footsteps. My shadow dances after me in the dull, orange light of the bare bulbs set on the walls of the stairwell. The air is like ice against my skin, but I don't feel the cold.