"Where did you go? I was thirsty and going to drink some water when I noticed you weren't in your room."
Julia's question makes me look up from the canvas. "Oh, I went to the beach. And I met ... Theo."
Julia yawns and throws herself across the sofa. "I'm no longer surprised if you say you meet one of them, or even three of them at the same time. But damn, you were a hopeless romantic single and now you got yourself three?! What a progress—"
I quickly cut her yapping, "You made me sound like living in a harem novel."
She shrugs. "Well, you are, in fact."
"You read too many dramatic scripts for your midterm performance," I say as I roll my eyes.
The girl with her white teeth grins widely. "You can't separate me from drama, you know."
Our shared apartment is dim, the soft hum of the fridge the only constant sound. I've just brushed the last bit of charcoal dust from my fingers, but the nerves still flutter like moths in my chest. My final presentation for midterm is tomorrow. My piece is ready, but I don't feel ready.
"I hate this part," I murmur, staring at the ceiling. "The waiting."
"You say that every time," Julia replies, tossing her phone aside and wrapping herself in a blanket burrito. "And you always do amazing. Now get some sleep. You don't want to be late tomorrow."
I nod and shuffle into the kitchen, pouring water into a chipped mug. I hear the knock at the door just as I'm taking the first sip. Julia gives me a puzzled look.
"It's almost midnight. Who the hell—"
"I got it," I say quickly, setting the mug down and walking over.
I open the door and freeze. Elliot stands there, hands shoved in the pockets of his worn jacket, a familiar tightness around his mouth. He looks like he didn't plan to be here. Like he was walking on autopilot and ended up at my door by accident. I don't even know how he knows my address.
"Hey," he says softly.
"El ... liot."
Julia peeks her head around the hallway, eyebrows rising. "Oh. It's him. I'll be in my room. Good luck with ... whatever this is. If he tries something stupid, just call my name and I'll kick his ass right away."
She disappears with a pointed glance. I step aside without saying anything. I get it. It's normal for her to act this way since I already told her about my past with Elliot. If I was her, I would do the same thing.
Elliot walks in slowly, like he's unsure if he's allowed. He stops in the middle of the living room, his eyes scanning the space before landing on me. I still don't know what to do so I just stand by the door.
"I remembered you always got like this before big presentations," he says, "thought you might need ... I don't know. Someone to tell you you'll be fine. Even though I'm sure your roommate already did that."
"You remembered it," I say silently.
He nods. "You used to lose sleep for days before any minor presentations or exams in high school. Always chewing your pencil ends."
I laugh quietly without me noticing. "I still do that."
A silence stretches between us. Not awkward. Heavy. Despite everything, his concern feels genuine. "Thanks," I say finally. "For coming."
"I wasn't sure I should." His voice lowers. "But I couldn't help it. I asked a friend of mine who happened to be Julia's friend about your apartment. You can hate me all you want, but I just wanna make sure you're okay."
I study him. His face is the same and not the same. His eyes hold that same pull I remember, that gaze that always made me feel like I was being read. But now, there's something sharper underneath. A bitterness that wasn't there before.
"Why do you look at me like that?" I ask.
"Like what?"
"Like you hate me and—"
His jaw tightens. "Because I do."
The words slice through me. An invisible sharp knife stabbed right on my chest. His words still can hurt me good.
"I hate that you left. That you didn't even give me a chance to fix it—fix us. That you disappeared and now I have to see you here like nothing ever happened."
I blink. Never expected this night I would talk about this with Elliot. "You were hurting me, Elliot. You made me feel like I was crazy for having feelings. You twisted everything I said until I stopped talking. Then you blamed me for not talking. I had to leave to breathe. To save myself from drowning deeper."
He doesn't argue. His expression cracks just slightly. I hold myself from getting emotional. No need to cry again over the same things. I've cried enough.
"I know," he says, "but that doesn't mean I stopped loving you."
I sit on the armrest of the couch, heart thudding in my ears. I just want to sleep now. All the nervousness I felt are gone. Thanks to Elliot, I guess.
"So why are you here?" I whisper, "to make me feel guilty? To make me remember?"
He takes a slow step forward. "I don't know. Maybe to see if you miss me, too."
And God help me, I do. But I also remember the nights I cried myself to sleep. The mornings I dreaded talking to him. The weight of silence. Fuck. What do I even feel about Elliot? I don't know. I still hate him. As much as he hates me.
His fingers brush mine. It's the gentlest touch, but it burns. Like he's being very careful. Like he's afraid of hurting me. He pats my hands slowly. "I'm sorry for bringing this up now. Whenever we talk, the past always takes the lead. But I'm here to give you support. I really want you to relax and don't be nervous. You got this, it's just a midterm."
I almost fall into the memories maze in my head if I don't remind myself. I nod, appreciate his intention. "Thank you."
His eyes search mine. "Yeah."
He steps back, tension thick in the air between us. "Good luck tomorrow," he says, and before I can say anything else, he turns and walks out.
I close the door behind him, fingers trembling. Love. Hate. Regret. Longing. Elliot still has all the power to stir it all in me. And I don't know if that's beautiful or dangerous.