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When I slammed the door in his face, I thought I would feel relieved — the burden was finally gone.
But I didn’t.
My mind kept screaming at me and my fingers kept shaking with an uncontrollable pulse. My chest still longed for his embrace, his temperature, and his murmurs.
And now, I shut everything about him behind.
Or, did I?
I only realized that I was crying when my vision was so blurry I couldn’t see where I was going. Cursing under my breath, I wiped my tears and looked at my watch: 6:18 P.M.
The roses in the flower shop reminded me of the bouquet he made for me when we went on our first date. Every shadow zooming through the street had something just like him. A man walked pass me and — maybe I was wrong but — he wore the same fragrance as Credence.
Why was it so hard to move on?
Well, maybe he already moved on.
He never really told me anything. I had no idea who his family members were. I didn’t know where his scars came from. I wasn’t sure why he had such terrible nightmares so frequently.
And most importantly, I couldn’t understand the sadness and fear that were carved into his eyes.
What about me? I shared everything special in my life with him.
I made him smile. I held his hand and brought him to my favorite restaurants and bookstores. I shared my playlist with him and sang in his arms. I told him interesting stories and even showed him my poems.
I opened up to him. I shared everything. Yet he never allowed me to walk into his world.
So I quit.
Quickly walking up the stairs to my own apartment, I furiously spun the keys and pushed myself into the only space that brought me comfort in the whole city.
I called this home.
Even if it was home for only one person.
It was still home.
I didn’t need him anyways.
Standing in the mirror was a girl with a messy French bun and melted mascara. Needless to say, my eyes were red as my reddest lipstick. So I threw myself into a warm shower and went through my skincare routine.
And I felt so much better.
Sitting on the sofa in my comfy pajamas, I drank a bottle of peach soda that I smartly placed in the fridge yesterday, and then I ordered desserts from my favorite restaurant.
Just as I was about to listen to my favorite artist’s new release, Newt messaged me.
“Hey hey, are you alright?”
I thought I was strong enough to at least stay calm for an hour. But hell no, tears involuntarily poured out of my swollen eyes and, though I never wanted to admit this, I was worried about Credence.
He was so fragile. And so sensitive. And so gentle with everything in his life.
A huge wave of guilt washed over me.
Thinking back to those happy memories when he secretly placed a kiss on my cheek, when he huffed hot breaths onto my hands that were freezing in the winter air, and even when he used his morning voice to murmur my name and pulled me even closer into his warm chest, my cheeks flushed red in remorse.
What did I do to him?
Then the what-if’s came, crashing down onto my already dizzying head.
What if he hurt himself? What if he stopped eating? What if he was haunted by another nightmare tonight? What if he hated me? What if he exploded?
Yes, I knew he was an obscurus. Being a witch, it was difficult not to sense the vibrating field of magic around the people who had magic. But I never told him. I wanted to hear it from himself. And I thought that he trusted me enough to open up to me.
I thought he loved me as much as I loved him.
As more and more thoughts flew aggressively into my mind, I drifted off to sleep.
· · ─────── · ✧ · ─────── · ·
Urgent series of knocks woke me up one morning. Yawning, I went into the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. I almost screamed when I saw the alarm clock: what? I had been sleeping for three days? Without waking up?
How much did I not want to wake up? How did everything happen?
Then I remembered, as the knocks became more and more aggressive. And I dragged my feet to the door.
A wildly freckled man pulled my into a tight embrace and whispered, “It’s okay, don’t worry. I got you.”
“Newt!” I squeaked into his large collars.
As I almost fell asleep (again) in his arms, I suddenly remembered that he was still standing outside of my apartment. Quickly stepping back, I invited him in.
Gently nodding his head and forcing a restrained smile, Newt said in a hushed tone, “No need for tea. I just want to comfort you and tell you something.”
Damn it. Something must had happened.
Instead, I said, “Oh, um, okay.”
We sat on the sofa and he turned towards me. Holding my gaze, he softly said, “I understand your concerns. I’m sorry. I know you value trust and honesty the most in your relationship—”
“How is he?”
Looking down, he stared at his shoes.
I hated silence.
Waiting for what felt like hours, he finally spoke, “He hasn’t been eating or sleeping.”
I should had known this was what would happen.
Yet, I still wanted to make sure. “For three days?”
He didn’t even want to answer this question. Looking outside my chic balcony, he sighed.
“He loves you, you know?”
Now it was my turn to sigh. Chuckling in a painful and distorted way, my eyes watered.
“He doesn’t even trust me. It’s funny how I thought that he loves me. And you interestingly also believe in it.”
Anger rose and fumes crawled into my throbbing head.
“Guess what? I don’t even give a damn about him. He doesn’t care about me. Why would I care? And here’s a friendly reminder, I am the one that ended things.”
Silence, again.
Newt sadly placed a box of tissues onto my lap. Furrowing his brows, he whispered, “Hey, hey, I totally understand, but I’m not here to argue with you.”
Bitterly and sarcastically, I snorted, “Yeah, yeah, I know. You want me to find him and check how he’s doing? Maybe even apologize? In an attempt to make me fall in love with him again? Bullshit, you know it.”
As if my point isn’t clear enough, I scoffed, “It’s over. We’re over.”
Then sadness came.
Sadness always came after the anger.
I wondered why this was always the case.
“He, h-he hates me now.” I sobbed.
Newt was rubbing little circles on my right hand, and he shook his head furiously, “He doesn’t. He has been pushing away the whole world. He doesn’t let anyone enter. But I think if you go there, he’ll let you in.”
“How do you know?” I weakly asked.
Letting out a shaky breath, Newt answered, “He’s awfully quiet when he’s awake. But I heard him whispering your name in his dreams.”
We just sat there, looking at the carpet, because I was too broken and he was too tired. After a few minutes, he stood up and said, “I should be going. Gotta feed my creatures.”
Hearing him mentioning his magical creatures, I pictured his cute little niffler that always caused trouble and laughed a little. “Yep. Sure.”
As he stepped outside of my door, I leaned against it and said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
Blinking his eyes, Newt waved his hands and smiled, “No worries. Have a good day.”
“Oh, and, um, thanks.” I paused, “For the information.”
An exhausted smile crept onto his face, and he whispered his farewells and apparated.
· · ─────── · ✧ · ─────── · ·
I found myself staring at the familiar door of Credence’s apartment.
After gathering the courage and finally calming down, I was once again fueled up and felt lost like a miserable fourteen year old.
I had no idea what I could say. I did not know how to approach him. I hoped that he would still talk to me.
Worst of all, I hated how I was still so so so madly in love with him.
Memories came back, rushing and soaring into my mind.
The tentative fingers that lingered on my neck for a bit too long when he helped me wear a Pandora necklace. The slim wrists that were stiff from the lashing scars. The blushing cheeks when I casually stuffed my hand into his pockets in his leather jacket. The long lashes that made his eyes even more mysterious.
I turned my back towards the door and leaned on it, as if feeling Credence’s body for the first time after a long long winter.
“Hey. It’s me.”
That was all it took for clumsy and hurried footsteps to approach the door.
“Don’t open the door yet, cuz I’m leaning on it. Or else I’d fall and you’d have to take care of me.”
I could hear his hands shuffling in his pockets.
“Okay never mind, I’m facing you now instead of leaning on your door. But give me a minute to talk.”
A little bang. Oh, that old habit again. His head, leaning on the door.
So I spoke more softly.
“Before I get sentimental and become a chaotic crying mess, I want you to eat something. And, um, sleep if you can.”
The reply came quicker than I expected. I thought he would not even speak, but a hoarse whisper came through the door, as if proving that he was carefully listening.
“I, I-I can’t.”
My heart shattered at that very instant.
All I wanted to do was to hug him and kiss him and cuddle in bed and tell him how much I love him and how much I regretted leaving him alone. I wanted to say how awful I felt and how much I needed him. I wanted to yell at him just to make sure that he would hear me when I say the three intense words.
“Credence—”
He knew what I meant.
He opened the door.
Tears fell down involuntarily as I stared at him.
He was even skinnier than before. Huge dark circles formed under his eyes. His hair was messy — obviously rubbed in periods of aggressive fury. Tear stains were all over his cheek.
“Why?”
It was more of a statement than a question. I said this word as we took in each other’s figures.
Closing my eyes and trying to cut all my senses, I continued, “I need answers, Credence. Don’t shut me out,” I gasped for air, “again.”
I couldn’t say anything else because I started sobbing.
Pathetic. So pathetic.
“I’m a, a, a m-monster. You know i-it already. You’re a w-witch.”
That was unexpected as hell. I thought he didn’t know — I mean, neither of these things.
So I quietly said, “I was always waiting for you to tell me.”
Catching my breath and rubbing my nose, I continued, “I thought there was trust in our relationship and I trusted you so I thought that you also trusted me—”
“I was a-always waiting for you t-to leave me.”My eyes snapped open and stared at his eyes that were glued to the tiled floor of his house.
“You shouldn’t b-be with me. I was a, a-abused as I grew up. I was adopted b-by Mary Lou. She used my belt to, um, you c-can guess. And I, I, I d-destroy things. Have destroyed. Keep d-destroying. I can’t c-control myself.”
I tilted my head in confusion, and he spitted out these words: “I w-will hurt you.”
He didn’t move an inch.
And I had never heard this much information and feelings pouring out from his heart.
“I belong to the d-darkness.”
Pause.
“You’re the only w-warmth I’ve ever f-felt.”Pause.
“You don’t b-belong with me. You’re t-too good for me. Other people c-can treat y-y-you better. If I-I hurt you one day, I, I, I can never keep living knowing w-what I did.”
Pause.
“I love you.”
No pause.
“I love you s-so much you have no idea. I have loved you since the first day I saw you. It’s cliche when it happens in other people’s s-stories but it’s not when it comes to us. Your hair was flowing in the sunset breeze and you wore that Versace c-crystal fragrance. I saw your blue eyeliner and beautiful lips and I couldn’t breathe. I never even dared to imagine being able to become part of your life. You were my e-e-everything and every thing and everything.”
I was stunned. What did I just hear? I was about to rush forward and tell him how everything about him not being good enough is 100% bullshit but what he just said didn’t make any sense to me.
Stuttering, I asked, “I, I was?”
“I mean, y-you still are.”
I lifted my gaze and found him looking back at me. Butterflies came alive in my stomach as I steadied myself and planted my feet to the ground.
“I was afraid that you would leave. I waited for you to leave.”I could feel it, how he wanted to say it but couldn’t, so I helped him out.
“And I really did leave.”
A heavy drop of tear fell off his cheek, following the curving road that his previous teardrops took. As if I took away all my willpower from keeping me standing still and not being too childish, my exhausted knuckles lost control and I fell to the ground, sitting in an awkward and uncomfortable posture.
Through my sobs, I heard Credence kneeling down.
God, what was he about to do?
And then there it was again — silence.
As I slowly calmed down, I scrubbed my eyes and peered at what was in front of me. I almost gasped.
A trembling hand.
No, that wasn’t what I saw.
I saw beautiful, long, slender fingers. I saw painful scars and thrashes and sadness.
But there was tenderness.
There was warmth.
There was love.
His eyes, still glassy like mine, pleaded me in unspoken sentences.
Then his lips trembled and I didn’t even know what to expect, after how I broke down and how he offered his hand to me.
“If you would still take me back, if you still feel a tiny bit of yourself loving me, if you can possibly forgive me for my unreasonable fears, if you can stand being with a monster—”
Throwing my arms open, I choked out a single line, “No, I’m sorry.”
He cried even harder.
But he knew what to do.
He knew this time he had to take his chance.
He knew this time he couldn’t let his own fears take control.
He knew this time he could not even allow himself to fuck anything up.
He knew this time that this was love.
So he quickly embraced me and entangled his arms around my neck and my waist. He buried his head into the crook of my neck and whispered endless apologies to my sensitive ears.
My hands found their way to his messy hair, a habit I picked up over the years, and I messaged his head, whispering back sweet nothings and also apologizing for leaving him.
He sadly pulled away. Although still longing my comfort and softness, he said, “I trust y-you. With a-all my heart. But I, I, I, I don’t trust myself.”
I leaned my forehead onto his and lovingly rubbed the tip of my nose onto his soft nose, and I forcefully yet kindly stated, “Babe, listen to me. You’re not a monster.”
He looked away from me.
I didn’t care. I had to continue.
“You’re the far opposite of a monster. The Credence I know is a sweet, gentle, kind, cute boy that loves me. And I love him. So maybe you can tell him that I really want to cuddle with him tonight? But only if he agrees to have dinner with me, though.”
A soft blush crept onto his cheeks. He slowly turned his head back until he was directly facing me. Lifting his gaze, he looked at me, bewildered.
“Do you, um, really m-mean it?”
I got hold of his right hand and placed it over my pounding heart.
“Can you hear that?”
Cheeks getting even redder, he looked at our hands and nodded.
“That’s my love for you.”
One second. The wind became the only sound I heard.
Another second. His breathing stopped and mine, too.
Yet another second. His pupils became darker and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Quickly and fiercely placing his warm palms over the back of my neck, he hungrily pulled me in for a long, passionate kiss.
I had no idea Credence could be this passionate.
He sucked on my lips with such intensity I knew he must had left bruises.
But it was worth it, god, I knew it was worth it.
All the tears, all the sadness, all the pain I felt were the same compared to what he had always been pressured with.
He was so hurt.
And so was I.
But when our lips met each other, our broken hearts and minds and souls immediately started healing.
We panted heavily when I hesitantly pulled away, “Hey hey, I love you too, but we should get something to eat.”
He looked at me with his beautiful brown eyes and blinked.
Wind howled with such aggression outside the fogging windows on the other end of the room.
It was warm in his house.
We carefully looked at each other, preserving this moment, intertwining our fingers, and enjoying the electric sparks in our fuming breaths.
It was warm in our home.