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“An invitation to the old haunt.. I want to be happy for her, reckon that's the right thing to do. But with each word I read, with each image my mind dreams up... thinking I might see her with Linton... it's enough to completely shatter this already cracked heart. Thought I'd long come to terms with this. Thought I'd be done moping about it. Her heart does not belong to me; she's chosen to live her life with someone else. Said she'd never marry me, how it would 'degrade her'. Cathy doesn't love me. She never loved me. So why does it still hurt? All I've ever wanted was to be by your side, Cathy, but to have to watch you choose to be with Linton... It's enough to crush me for good.”
He lets out a deep sigh, gently holding the invitation while clutching his chest in torment. He sat down on his bed, trying his best to regain himself.
“I know I have to be brave and face you no matter what. I'm stronger than this shite. I want to hope I'm stronger. This is for the better, isn't it? I'm some no-luck downtrodden dog. I've nothing to my name. Linton comes from money. Makes sense. I would never be able to give you the life you deserve to live. I'd never be able to provide for you, lavish you with gifts. I'd do nothing but bring you down with me. My happiness would be your ruin. It just isn't meant to be... I'll never... you'd never...”
Tears begin to softly trickle down his cheek. His breathing becomes heavier, more labored. A cracked smile forms, a vain an attempt to convince himself that he'll be alright. His mind begins to wander, tracing back time to the memories shared together. He can still see those patches of violet, with her at the very center, smiling and laughing. The soft silhouette that outlined her. Holding out a laurel to match hers. Inviting him by the hand to dance around with her. In those memories he hides away his heart, wishing he could just go back in time and have the courage to confess his feelings in full.
“Hey, Heathcliff, come here! Look at this patch over here!”
“I'm coming! … Oi, these here look a little like...”
“Like a heart, right? You see it too, don't you Heathcliff?”
“Aye, I do! Haha, if we've come across this together, maybe it's a sign we'll, you know...”
“Oh Heathcliff, you always make the funniest jokes!”
“H-haha, yeah, could you imagine?”
“We'll have to come back when these flowers begin to wilt so we can make more laurels with them. Come, let's see what's over by the river!”
“Y-yeah, go on ahead Cathy, I'll run and catch up!”
Cowardice will never be rewarded. Instead of confronting her, he decided to run. Run, run, and run far away, before being dragged back to confront her for the sake of his assignment. He's now forced to see her, likely by the side of another and joined in holy matrimony. “What a detestable thought. I want to be happy for her, I want nothing more than for her days to be filled with love and joy... yet... I wish to be the one providing her that love and joy. Why couldn't I just tell her... wouldn't it have been better than holding onto this pain? Or would that have been selfish, already knowing how she felt?”
Flashes of her smiling face looped in the back of his mind as he recalled more and more moments shared with Catherine. How gentle and kind she always was with him, how she showed him love and care when no one else ever had. Those small glances she would make his way. Her soft and delicate voice, the cheerful sound of her laugh, her intoxicating smell, the light sound of her steps, the way the sun rested on her and made her brighter than she already was. Everything about her came rushing back at full force, strong enough to topple the firmly-seated man back down onto his bed.
“Would be a damn shame if I crashed up Linton, aye? 'Oi, I don't agree with this nonsense! Cathy can't be married this git! She's mine!' Hah, if only that would work.” He let out a sigh as he crossed his arm over his eyes, ashamed that violence was all he really knew. “Maybe clockhead'll extract an identity that can't see and let me wear it. Wonder if any syndicates are packed to the brim with blind blokes... maybe those Index loons. Doubt ol' Red Eyes would let me hide away like that though.” A brief chuckle escaped his lips before they returned to solemn lament. “Too bad clockhead can't rewind me back to a time before my heart broke. A time when I still had the chance to be brave. Now I have to deal with her being married off with Linton of all people.”
He shoots up and kicks at his bat, flinging it across his room, before it bounces back against a wall and smacks him across the chest, knocking him back down onto his bed.
“Serves me right. I need to cool it and deal. Wonder what the rest of 'em might think seeing me like this.” He scratches his head, rustling his hair. “Load a shite I've got running in my mind right now. I need to figure out what the hell I'm gonna wear when I get there. Can't rightfully drag myself back in rags.” He turns to his side, staring at his wall with a soft gaze. His expression was distorted, feelings of heartbreak washing over him as he tried his best to force a smile. “Can't wear my heart on my sleeve and let Cathy see me all messy, need to tighten up my act.” He clasps his face in his hands before giving a few light slaps, encouraging himself to move forward. “Right, might as well see what the rest of the gang can do to help me look less like a mutt then, aye.” He breathes in deeply before letting out a calm and collected sigh, doing his best to regain his composure before facing the rest of the bus.
“Though I may want nothing more than to be by your side, Catherine... more than anything, I just want you to be happy in this life. If this is what you've chosen, then I'll support you and hope for your everlasting joy. That's all I can really do. Coward that I am, it's all I deserve to do.” He gently shuts the door behind him as he goes to meet his colleagues at the front of the bus, his steps heavy with remorse and lament.