𝘛𝘸𝘰: 𝘌𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦; 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦; 2.
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Something happened... I woke up earlier than intended and couldn't go back to sleep so I stared at the wall for hours. It isn't fair what happened - what happened to him.
I can't stop thinking about it. I haven't gotten out of bed since I woke up. I feel sick to my stomach, like I'll vomit at any moment. Questions echo in my head; Where was I? Why didn't I stop it?
I try counting to calm down but I can only make it to 2 before the world caves in. I get out of bed and walk into the kitchen. It's empty. I walk into the living room. It's also empty.
I don't remember anyone leaving—but I also can't recall a time anyone ever stayed. I'm guilty of that. It's always easier to just walk away, avoid any confrontation, any problems. I remember the last time I saw Ian, before I was taken away.
I especially remember the sound of his voice. I can't even remember what he said—just that it wasn't directed toward me. We never really spoke, except for when we were insulting each other.
I didn't care about Ian Gallagher.
I wasn't thinking of him when I stepped foot on that ledge or when my body slowly floated down and hit the water. His name didn't once cross my mind.
So why can't I get him out of my head? I keep seeing his sad eyes. Feeling his hand brushing against mine. I have to say goodbye to him. At least, this time, he'll maybe remember me as a person and not a shadow of misery and anger.
-
It's around 2:00pm when I make it to his house. I knock on the door and am greeted with a confused Fiona.
"What are you doing here?" She asks.
"Is Ian here?"
"Yeah. He lives here, doesn't he?"
"Can you get him?"
The door closes and the next time it opens, I'm greeted with Ian's freckled face. I smile a little, "Hi."
Ian steps out of the house and closes the door behind him. He writes something down:
HI :)
I find it hard to make eye contact or to even look at him directly so I put my head down. "You know, I'm sorry."
I look up to see what he wrote: You said that already.
I nod. "I did, yeah." An expression of sadness crosses my face. "But, still, I'm sorry that I left and I'm sorry for not saving you."
You did save me. Now you saved me.
"No, Ian, I'm a jerk. I didn't save you, you saved yourself and I can't let myself destroy that, because I know that I will. That's why I'm saying goodbye."
Goodbye?
I feel like I'm going to cry but I stop myself. "You're an amazing person, Ian."
Don't say that.
"It's true." I say.
He walks closer to me and I let him. He reaches for my hand but I reach for his first. We're so close, I can feel his breath on my neck. "You know it's true, don't you? And you know... it's not your fault."
I can't stop the tears that come from his eyes. I try my hardest not to leave, he's pulling on the sleeve of my shirt.
"Ian—" I stop when he starts to write something.
He holds it up, his hands shaking and his lip trembling: STAY MICKEY
"I can't."
He flips the page and write something else: KISS ME.
"I can't.." I trail off, resting my hand on his face. I close my eyes and our lips touch. He tastes sweet and I want to cherish this taste forever. I run my hands through his soft, red hair and deepen the kiss.
I want it to last but I'm the one that pulls away. I'm the one that leaves before he can get me stay longer than I need. Those two words flash in my mind as I walk down the street. One is an uneven number, but the two of us are even.
-
Mickey: He says stay.