Philophobia (Jonathan Crane, O/C)

One Pronoun: Me

"Falling in love is easy. Falling in love with the same person repeatedly is extraordinary." 

-Crystal Woods

"Cassandra."

Our names, two nouns, two words. Meaning nothing but everything at the same time. How could one name, one word mean so much to another human?

I stand there in my spot, my eyes growing wide, filling with tears and transfixed on him. My breath increases and the cold that I was feeling has left, a warmth spreads all over my body. He looks the same when I saw him this morning, yet everything feels so different being me, the girl that has been in love with him since college staring into those blue eyes. Eyes that are ones that look at me with more emotion than he cares to express to me in words. The blue eyes that are liquid pools to his soul and to his demon.

I find I'm lost for words looking at him, I want to hear him speak again, say something to me that will let me know that he's Jonathan and not Scarecrow.

"I'm not one for emotions. But I will say I miss you," he says slowly testing out my reaction.

I bite my lip, "How long have you been following me?"

"Well Bruce and I had an agreement. I was allowed to." He tries to come closer. That didn't answer my question. I move away, putting my arm out to protect myself from his toxic touch. "Cassandra I promised I would never hurt you again." His blue eyes grow larger, a hurt expression gracing his features.

"You did hurt me again," I say, some edge in my voice. He looks down at the ground.

"I don't mean emotionally. I meant physically. Clearly I hurt you emotionally," no amount of smugness appears in his voice. He looks up at me, his eyes searching my face for an answer, we should be able to read one another.

"Who are you?" I reply weakly. "Last time I checked Jonathan has taken a hike up the mountain and hasn't come down."

I wanted to sound angry when I said that. I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to push him. I want to hurt him. I would never be able to hurt him the way he did when he left me. But at least I thought physically "hurting" him would make me feel better. I know I would never really hurt him physically. I wasn't the monsters of his past. I was someone who loved him with everything I am, who wanted to understand everything.

"I come down on occasion. It's difficult." He replies, snapping me out of my angry thought process.

"So it's you I'm speaking with? You aren't fucking with me?" He rolls his eyes at my comment, looking up into the night sky and sighing.

"Scarecrow, right now, if it was him, would have already had his hand up your dress and pressed up against the wall Cassandra. I'm not him," Jonathan raises his voice at my accusation. My mouth falls open. "I thought by now you could..."

I don't let him finish his tirade, running to Jonathan and throwing my arms around his waist, letting out a whimper. He wraps his arms around my waist tightly, burying his face in my neck. I start to cry, hard and heavy tears flowing from my eyes. He squeezes me harder and smoothly rubs my back in small circles.

"I don't want to wake up," I whisper in between sobs, balling up his dress shirt in my hands.

"You aren't dreaming my love," he whispers.

"I love you. I love you so much," I hold him closer to me, as close as I physically can. I don't want there to be anymore distance between us, it's been too long. "You can't leave me. You can't just walk out on me."