"I guess they really got the best of us,

didn't they?

They said that love was enough,

but it wasn't"

✦

As soon as Matthew pulled up to the house preceding the fiasco at Lenny's Car Wash, I hopped out and went to the graveyard. To Leonora Papilio.

I ignored Matthew's protests and sprinted there in the drizzle.

When I arrived to the cemetery it was underwhelming. It was still dead and dry and dull. Even wet, the grass reeked no sign of growth or green or life. The discoloration of each grave stone was accentuated by the rain, the stones whirlpools of grey, balding with receding hairlines of moss. The no-name lady wasn't there and I was grateful for that.

I continued my path to Leonora's grave. Stop waiting.

Written on the grave was her name, her life span, and a short epitaph that read at rest. It was the first time I read it and I wasn't surprised it didn't clue to any partners or children. She was divorced and left her daughter, what was there to inscribe?

She died at 53 years old and I'm not sure how. My best bet would be alcohol poisoning or liver failure or something of the sort.

I wonder if she was alone when she died. Considering how she had a funeral I wouldn't think so. Maybe she was still with the man she was in a relationship with when she left me. Or maybe she too had a Harry who'd promised to plan her funeral. She didn't deserve a Harry, but I guess I didn't either.

I sat down and began pulling at the grass above her coffin. "I think I hate you."

Part of me felt dumb for talking to a grave but another part of me needed to be able to speak; to talk and tell and actually mean what I said. Harry, Harry, Harry.

"People say it's on the same spectrum as love though so I'd rather intensely dislike you."

A fistful of half dead grass was finishing suffocating in my grasp. My heels began to skid forcefully against the dirt, making a pile where they completed the stretch.

"I don't get it," I murmured. "You left."

I inhaled a shaky breath. "But why? I never got a single fucking answer."

"I just want to know why, mom."

The rain picked up its wrath, not pouring but no longer spitting.

"Am I why you left?" My voice was weak, practically inaudible.

I crawled my way up to her stone, wrapping my hands around the top. My forehead hovered over the peak of its curve.

"Why'd you choose vodka? And that guy? Why wasn't I enough for you to choose? To stay?"

Pounding my fists against the grave, I yawped, "It's not fair! I want to know why!"

The skin on the sides of my hands scraped off as I hit it, the freshly exposed flesh burning. Mud was covering my pants and shoes but I didn't care. I was sloshing around in it as I crumbled and the mess was inevitable.

The sound of footsteps sinking into the wet dirt made me crane my neck. It was Matthew. He was sprinting towards me.

I didn't have time to react before he swallowed me with his arms.

"What are you doing here?" I bellowed.

"I knew you'd be here and I wasn't gonna make the same mistake!"

His fingers were strapping the sides of my damp face, tangling into my hair. He slid his hands down to pull my head into his neck to cradle me, rubbing another hand up and down my back. I was awkwardly half leaning into him.

I wrenched myself away. "I don't want you here. I came here to be alone."

He seemed hurt by what I said, glancing to Leonora's grave. "I love you and I want to be here for you." I love you, I love you, I love you.

I let out a garbled scream. "I can't fucking think around you! Leave, Matthew!"

When he hadn't so much as shifted I kept going. "Matthew! Leave, damnit! Leave!"

Jerking as far away as I could, my back was against the grave. I was making weird hiccup sounds as I tried to catch a breath in the midst of crying.

He still didn't move. "No."

I stared at him and the darkened hair slick against his head. He stared right back. I pulled my hair from my face and back over my scalp, using the rain as gel.

"You can't be there for me," I clarified.

"Why not?"

"I can't talk to you right now," I said incredulously, confused as to why I need to spell it out for him.

"You don't have to. I want you to know I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. You're not alone in this anymore."

His claim made me clench my fists and grind my teeth. "In this? This isn't all about Leonora, Matthew. You already did go somewhere. You went to Melly." Matt, Matt, Matt and Melly.

"I'm trying to think, okay? Can you let me do that because with you right next to me it's impossible," I continued, calming down after the small outburst.

Reluctantly, he nodded, biting his cheek. He stood too. Nearing me, he raised his arms as if to ask for a hug and I shook my head. He slowly back away and I watched him walk off until he was out of sight.

Then I called Harry. I needed to end today's mental Reign of Terror and his happy habit had the distinct talent of doing so. I asked him to meet me at a local café and he agreed. Thankfully, we had exchanged numbers last time we hung out.

After making my way to the place which was nearby his thrift store, I sat at a table for two by the window. It smelt like coffee and I hated the scent. Matt, Matt, Matt, coffee stained mugs.

Harry came quickly and once he located me, he smiled and swiftly pulled out his chair and got comfortable.

"Rain cleared up," he greeted, nodding his head at the window and the cloudy sky. "Looks like you were a sponge or somethin'."

I exhaled a laugh and rolled my eyes at his antics. My hair was terribly frizzy and not entirely dry; my clothes were getting there, but not dry either.

"Hi."

"Well hello, angel."

His grin was contagious and I couldn't help but mimic the motion with my own lips.

"Did you walk here?"

"Yup," he confirmed.

My eyebrows quirked. "Then how are you so dry?"

"Ever heard of a hood... or an umbrella?" He asked rhetorically, cocking his head. Leaning closer to me, he rested his chin in his hands and elbows on the table.

"Smart ass," I quipped.

Harry pushed away from the table, using the hind legs of his chair to rest backwards on an angle. He craned his neck to the counter. "Hey! Saabira!"

I shrunk back in my seat as the hijab adorned girl he was calling came over to us from behind the register. She had an apron on with the shop's logo.

Her forehead was creased as if she was asking yes?

"So Saabira, this is—"

"Evdoxia," she finished for him, grinning madly.

I'm not sure how she knew my name as I don't remember ever introducing myself. I couldn't say if I've even seen her before as I didn't frequent this café.

"Why yes, I would've got to that if you let me finish. Evdoxia, this is—"

"Saabira," I simpered, trying to play along.

She stifled a giggle.

"Well then." His face was washed with offense and he cleared his throat dramatically. "Saabira, we're good friends, no?"

"Um, not really," she nonchalantly disagreed.

He sighed. "Must you make this so difficult?"

"It's my nature."

I stayed quiet while watching their lighthearted banter. Harry was so likable, I didn't doubt that he'd befriended everyone in this town already.

"Let me get to the point—"

"Yes, please, I am working after all," she interrupted.

He dropped so his seat was on four legs causing a slapping sound. "I'm not a smart ass, right? Because you see, Evdoxia here said just that."

Her mahogany eyes flickered between Harry and I and her smile widened. "No, I definitely agree with her. I couldn't have said it better myself."

"Saabira! Can't you see I'm trying to impress her?! And this is all you give me to work with?!" He whined humorously, disappointed by her reply.

"Shut up," I laughed, gently hitting his shin with the front of my shoe under the table.

"Footsie?" He raised a brow.

"And that's my cue to go," Saabira said, walking back behind the counter to help serve the customers queuing in line.

"You're shy," Harry pointed out, kicking my shin back.

I shrugged, burying my hands in my jacket pockets. Avoiding his gaze, I people watched.

He drummed his fingers on the wood. "How are you?"

I made eye contact with him. "I don't know to be honest. How about you?" I didn't want to talk about me.

"Feelin' lucky."

"Good day?" I derived, entertained by his glee.

"Mhm. Though I feel like you can't say the same," he frowned.

"I'm just tired."

He didn't seem convinced but he didn't meddle any further. "Coffee?"

"I don't like coffee."

"Tea? I'm gonna go get some myself, let me caffeinate you." He hopped to his feet.

"No, that's okay. Thanks though."

Tsking, he strolled away to get in line. He faced me the entire time he waited, making silly expressions or gesturing to people to get a reaction out of me. He only snapped out of it when Saabira caught his attention.

Soon enough he slid back in front of me and dropped a pastry bag on the table, pushing it towards me.

"What's this?"

"Cinnamon roll: my favorite pick-me-up."

"Hm." I pursed my lips, opening the crinkly bag and peaking inside. "Looks good."

"I'd hope so, it's for you."

"Oh, thanks."

Holding the top of his cup, he spun it in slow circles mindlessly. I made no move to eat the cinnamon bun, my hands tucked under the sides of my thighs.

"Don't worry about it... unless you're not gonna eat it."

"How about we split it," I offered.

"Okay," he agreed. He got up and got a plastic knife, dragging the pastry out and slicing it.

"Plastic?" I jested. "Mr. Recycle, that's not very planet minded."

"Ya know, I thought the same thing, but I think tearing this thing in half with my bare hands would've disturbed you."

"Sounds like an excuse to me," I disagreed in a scold, pulling my lips into my mouth.

"Would you like for me to make this knife more useful?" He teased, prodding it towards me in an empty threat.

"I mean, it's either me or a turtle."

He groaned, pushing the larger half of the treat. "Eat your damn half and shush."

I did as he demanded, bringing it to my mouth and biting into it. It was alright. I made an exaggerated yum sound as I chewed.

He swallowed his own bite. "Why?"

"For fun." I folded my hands out in front of me, smirking.

"Pft."

I had another bite, repeating the obnoxious sound to which he shook his head at.

"So, are you free today?"

"I'd have to check my schedule," I sneered in a snobbish accent, flaring my nostrils and squishing my lips.

"What's up with you today?" He chuckled, cheeks puckered with dimples.

I dropped the act. "I don't know, I'm in a weird mood. But to answer your question, yes I'm free today."

"Good. Great. Let's do something." He took out his phone, presumably texting someone.

I crumpled the now empty paper bag into a ball, getting up to trash it. "Okay."

He followed me, sipping on his tea as we left.

"Where to?" I inquired.

"I'm new here, show me a cool spot. Also what's with all the mud?"

Looking down to pants, they were caked with a layer of flakey brown. I ignored the question.

I mulled over the different places in town, unable to think of anything mildly interesting. "Um..."

"Bring me somewhere special to you," he specified, chugging the rest of his drink and tossing it. I razzed him about that waste as well.

Where could I take him? Anywhere special to me was tainted by Matthew. By Matt and Melly.

"Um..."

"Where'd you grow up?"

"A house nearby?" I replied in a question, not understanding where this was headed.

"Lets go," he decided cheerfully with a smirk.

"Why would you want to go there?"

"Why wouldn't I? It's where you grew up, of course I want to see it... as long as you want to as well."

I thought about bringing Harry there; I don't even know if my father still lived there or not. "I guess we can... but we can't go inside."

He clapped his hands. "Awesome sauce. Lead the way."

After questioning his choice of words, we left for our destination, one I have avoided for four years.

First Lenny's Car Wash, then Leonora's grave, and now the place I grew up; today was shaping into a walk through the past. It was like a repetitive trek across flaming coals. The wounds were raw and yet to scar and thicken to numb the burn so if anything each additional visit was more agonizing, the pain disorientating.

When we arrived to the one story, molding white house, I tensed. There was no car in the driveway but I still only led Harry a couple houses down on the other side of the street.

"Ta-da," I said with zero enthusiasm, pointing at the decrepit place.

"Not excited to be home?" He observed based off my tone, examining the plot from afar.

"Not really." Not at all.

"Why's that?"

"Bad memories." Leonora, Leonora, Leonora.

He lifted his arm and wrapped it around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. "Then let's make a good one."

I looked up to him, my face quite close to his. "How?"

Harry scanned the area, trying to find an idea. But I needed to leave. The place was riddled with Leonora and my dad and the early stages of Matt and Ev and I needed out before my soles melted to the bone and I couldn't move.

"Harry, can we go? Please?"

"Of course." He immediately began walking, tugging me and my charred skin with him as he did without a question.

Heading in the direction of the park, we were quiet, inspecting the subpar residential neighborhood. It was so familiar but different and I hated it.

"Is it weird that I want to hold your hand?" He peeped.

"No," I said softly.

"Can I?"

"I don't think so," I answered honestly. I didn't know if I wanted to hold hands with him or anyone at the moment.

He stared at his feet the rest of the walk. When we made it to the park we sat against the trunk of a large tree; the same one him and Rose had fooled around under before I formally met him.

"Evdoxia."

It was the first time he looked at me since the hand holding question. His head was rested back on the bark but tilted down to me. The light graced the entirety of his face whereas mine was in the shade, the light facing my back. My body casted a shadow on his own.

"Harry."

"What do you love most in the world?" Matt, Matt, Matt. Matt and Melly.

"Can you answer first?"

He nodded. "I love change."

But change was being dragged into the grey and silver being replaced for gold and change was being left after a promise to stay. Change was sad.

"Oh. Why?"

"Because it's metamorphosis. It's caterpillar to butterfly, legs to wings, restriction to flight—to freedom. Change is why every person will become equal one day and why animals won't be treated cruelly and why major industries will cut back in pollution. Humans set out to destroy life and our planet but change is why we can save everything. Change is the avoidance of becoming nothing."

"You equate change to growth," I concluded.

His lips twitched before blooming into a toothy, dimply grin. "Photosynthesis. You don't even know you need to go through processes till you already have. And then you can breathe."

"Not every change produces oxygen."

"I believe they're all it's ingredients."

"Has someone you've known ever died?" I asked. Leonora, Leonora, Leonora.

"No, not anyone I was close to."

"Anyone you once were close to at some point in their life?"

"No."

I turned away from him. "It changes you. And it doesn't kickstart any good. It's bad. Really fucking bad... even when you haven't seen the person for years."

"How have you changed?"

"I don't know. I just don't know. But everything is different and I constantly feel like I'm running of time."

I continued, "death changes your perception of time. It proves you can't keep waiting because eventually you do run out of time and that's it. They're gone." Tock, tock, tock.

When I paid less attention to what I was saying and what I was doing, I saw my ring in the palm of my left hand. Subconsciously, I had taken it off. I closed my hand to conceal the silver.

I got off the grass to stand. Using my right hand to help him up, I squeezed his own when he was steady to signal I wouldn't be letting go. He squeezed mine back.

"I have somewhere to bring you," I told him.

"Where?"

"My art studio."

sorry it's been so long!

I'm trying to persevere through a lot of

doubt and self criticism and keep writing!

Your responses have been so lovely

and it's really helping me continue

so thank you also if this chapter is rubbish I'm sorry

I think it was so hard to edit

cause I'm not in love with it :(

peace out ☺