Until We Stop Hearts

[Ella Robbinson]

Ella's birthday had been a minimal event this year. She'd been dodging calls from her step-mother all day, but inevitably she knew she'd have to answer. Cooped up in her dorm room for a majority of the past few weeks, she had to leave eventually. She knew that. There were few things she could use to guard herself, and a phone call was one of them. Stepping through the hallways between now-empty class blocks, Ella had the device pressed firmly to her ear.

She'd been absent, lately. From life. Learning she was an unfortunate expert at breaking hearts dragged her self-worth to the floor. What happened in New York might have burned bright like a supernova, but it left her blinded. She broke hearts. Broke his, broke her own, and then allowed the overflow to break another.

Weeks; two months without answering the door. With only leaving if she absolutely had to. Two months of not answering the door when James came looking for her; he was the only one, now, and she expected as much. Two months of no contact. After a while, he stopped trying to catch her. It felt fitting, really. It felt like something she deserved given her prior actions.

But now, there in that moment, she was out. Heading past empty classrooms of an afternoon with a phone to her ear, intent on heading into town. Food was meagre in her little apartment in the dorms, and as such, she had no choice.

"I could've come home, I know, but-" Ella tried, feeling the effects of a one sided conversation. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Amelia Robbinson. She can't imagine her saviour would much care for what she turned out to be. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I... Didn't know it was so important to you." A lie. She was getting good at them when not training the stoic silent approach from the opposite side of a locked door. With attention to the line, she brushed a glance in front of her, free hand burning fingers across the curve of the wall as she turned the next corner; "Well, if it's one or the other... Fine. I'll come see-"

Stalled dead in her tracks at the sight of the last person she actively wanted to make eye contact with, Ella felt tension run the length of her back. Stagnant in shock - or fear - for good measure.

Hallways. Again. Really?

[James Lawrence]

Two months.

Two months was an awful long time. Eight weeks. Endless days and nights to still be hung up on her. Two months of trying to reach her. James use to try everyday; hoping that one day, Ella would relent and answer the door. Days passed, and nothing happened. Nothing was a powerful response in itself. It eventually got to the point where James would only try on Fridays, then nothing.

He would be lying if he said it didn't hurt.

Life had washed over James, and for once, he felt like drowning. Like the pressure was rising high above his head and he couldn't swim anymore. Couldn't manage day to day life. He withdrew, finding relief in the form of nights cooped up in his apartment drinking until he felt like he could breathe again. Her presence made it hard to breathe; but the absence was even harder.

What had happened in New York surely played a part, James imagined. The memory of her skin burned in the back of the trainer's mind. The memory of her lips. Memories were all he had left. It was completely unexpected; the one person he thought he could confide in. His friend. What had happened clearly demonstrated that the title of just friends was wrong. So he thought.

James came back inside after smoking the last of his cigarettes. He burned through packs at a startling rate now. Substances did little to fill the void, so he learned. It was the afternoon now and his only plans were to go grab a few files on new students and work to create a training outline for them. He was distant, but still had to work. That was life. Afterwards, maybe he would venture outside of the walls of his apartment and go to a bar. Maybe.

Running a hand through dishevelled hair, he went to turn the corner of the hallway, nearly colliding into a familiar, yet strange face. Her. Of course. James came to a complete stop, staring incredulously. No way. His heart faltered for one beat.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

[Ella Robbinson]

Ella was a relative master at keeping a heart rate in check. He wasn't far away, but not far enough for her to miss it. After being so intertwined with a person so intently - so frequently - it was impossible to lose their frequency. It was impossible to just disconnect that recollection and that simplicity after working so hard to make it so.

It wasn't easy.

Quickly, he was talking to her. Ella took a breath; why couldn't he make separation in stride? She stared anyway; it was hard not to now that she'd caught him in her eyes for the first time in two months. Every breath had been a chore then, and it would surely become one now.

She took a step back, sharp in its approach, because she didn't want to be so near.

"Nothing," She replied to the receiver, "It's not for me."

[James Lawrence]

The words slipped out before James could think to filter them; still led by impulsive thoughts that carried through his actions. Some things never changed. Ignited by his quick temper, his gaze automatically landed on hers, dark eyes looking back. He hadn't noticed the phone in her hand, pressed against her ear.

It was an honest question, and James felt like he deserved some sort of an answer. Some sort of defence against her actions, or lack thereof, over the past couple of months. He had tried, only to reach a closed door. Shutting him out of her life.

None of this was easy.

He watched her take a step back; never had distance felt so jarring. Driving the proverbial wedge between them. Keeping herself separated, when weeks ago, they couldn't get close enough.

James crossed his arms in front of his chest, immediately on the defensive and trying to quell the anger rushing through his veins. "Right. Since we're the only two people here right now." He added, dryly.

[Ella Robbinson]

Ella felt the shift in his eyes as she took that step back. In any other altercation, it wouldn't have looked so bad. It wouldn't have felt so foreign, but she'd kept walls between them for long enough already. She'd locked him out. Or rather, locked herself in. In her mind, it all made sense.

She furrowed her eyebrows when he spoke again, confusion lining her expression. Was he kidding? Did he not see what was going on here? She hadn't talked to him for months; why she'd suddenly choose to do so in such a vague fashion was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. As ridiculous as showing up every Friday at the same time for over a month.

"We'll do that." Ella continued on, a desperate edge to her tone, "Belated birthday dinner, yes, I heard you. But I have to go." A pause, unrefined in its practice as she heard the lengthy set of goodbye's from her adoptive mother, "I promise. Bye."

A thumb to the screen as she drew it away from her ear, and Ella offered him another glance of disbelief. She tucked the device into her pocket, refusing to spend too long remembering the first lengthy call she'd ever made to him. The things she said, and the things he agreed to in turn. How different the meaning was now that they were standing here.

"Excuse me." Ella offered lightly, glancing over his shoulder and past him as she worked to step around him.

[James Lawrence]

In an ideal world, James would have moved on. He should have forgotten the six months prior and pretend like it never happened. Like their lives hadn't entwined again. Ideally, he wouldn't have grown an attachment to the hemokinetic and instead continue with the philosophy that commitment was too difficult for someone like himself. To be on the flip side was different; the one who clearly couldn't let go.

She continued her phone call as if nothing happened, as if he wasn't standing there. As if he didn't exist.

Gritting his teeth, he watched her finish the conversation on the phone. It was one thing to ignore him for such a long period of time, but to pretend that he wasn't there was another. For someone who craved attention, who needed the spotlight on him, to be ignored was one thing. The fact that it was her of all people doing it hurt more.

Maybe she was over it; over him. But he still wanted an explanation.

James moved easily, stepping in front of her. Blocking the escape route, for now. "Seriously, we need to talk." Running away wasn't an option at this point.

[Ella Robbinson]

Ella should have known it wouldn't be so easy to drag herself out of the moment. This was a man who followed her when she closed a door in his face. A man who actually showed up whenever he said he would, despite her altered beliefs that he wouldn't. He took steps she wasn't sure she'd ever be so willing to take were they in opposite situations. Of course he wouldn't let her leave.

She halted in her steps suddenly before she could run into him; momentum was on her side in that instance, and she immediately crossed her hands over her form, settling her palms at her ribs on either side. Now wrapped around herself, she felt a little easier about the situation. It meant she wouldn't take a shot to reach out to him.

As if she'd be so daring now.

"Why?" Ella asked, looking up. She lined the question with genuine intent, like she really needed a defined answer for that.

[James Lawrence]

His fingertips dug into the skin of his arms. Pressure to remind himself to keep calm, to not react as angrily as he could. Which was arguably difficult. He kept to his promises, longer than necessary, until James eventually couldn't be bothered. Couldn't stand to hear the empty silence from her end.

As they progressed, he wondered if that was better than the strained confrontation, in the middle of the hall. Where everything seemed to happen. His gaze tracked downwards, to meet her features. The pressure from his fingertips increased, leaving indents in their place.

Why? "Why?" James repeated, with a sense of disbelief. Was she serious right now? The tone of his voice grew louder. "You have got to be joking. We both know why."

"Actually, I don't. I don't know what the hell happened to you the past couple of months." What had happened to them, by default.

[Ella Robbinson]

The moment she offered the little word, Ella should have known how badly it would come across. Never one to rightly understand how instances could be anything less than awkward, she briefly considered what kind of answer would appease him. What could get him to ease up and allow her to pass by. Dark eyes stared in the most distant way. Because she couldn't look at him. Not properly. If she did, she'd likely get far too lost for her own good.

"I-" Stopped being good enough. Was never good enough in the first place. There was a moral compass somewhere and she well and truly broke it with everything else she broke months ago.

Eyes averted away with purpose, then. Something about the look on his face was far too damning than she could handle in that particular moment. Like he stole the air from her lungs with a simple turn of his gaze. Like she could genuinely forget how to breathe in any given moment.

"I'm sorry."

[James Lawrence]

Why did they need to talk? Because James had been on the receiving end of a door, locked out of her life seemingly overnight. With no explanation whatsoever. And he couldn't say he didn't try; in fact, it was him putting in the effort all along. Confused, at first. Daily trips became weekly, visiting every Friday afternoon. Because he had no intention to break that promise. And every Friday was a disappointment; one James came to expect.

He knew she was in there. He always did.

Confusion had turned to anger one Friday. Anger that stirred in his veins and caused a shift in the tempo of his pulse. The telltale signs were coming to head, now. James breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as she averted her gaze.

Why? Why did she do this?

An apology. Dark eyes settled on her again, searching for a connection. He waited a couple of uneasy beats. "That's it?" James finally stopped pressing his fingers into his arms, still crossed in front of his chest. Vulnerable. "That's all you have to offer? An apology?"

"No explanation for the past couple of months?" He asked. After everything.

[Ella Robbinson]

James was an overwhelming individual. He made breathing difficult, despite how months ago he was the only person who could get Ella to take even, proper breaths. The first thing she could think to do was apologise, and she thought she was in the right for doing it, but as she caught his expression she could tell it was the most jarring thing to give in the world. She wanted to say that it wasn't it, but there was no room to. There was barely room to think or take stock.

Trying to find an explanation to give him was futile. Anything she might say, he might shoot down.

"What else do you want me to say? I-" Ella faltered, unsure as to how to go about her next statement. Everything she could try to say would be as useless as she felt in that moment. There was no fixing something like this, she was certain.

"I don't know what to say."

[James Lawrence]

Breathing properly was a notion James gave up long ago. Since Ella came back into his life. Hiding this was pointless; she could tell, all because of an overactive pulse reacting from a frantic heart. The familiar feeling that made his chest feel heavy, the feeling that never really went away. Even after two months.

If anything, it got worse. Empty. Yet heavy.

Apologies sufficed. A recognition that there was wrongdoing. But James knew she recognized that, and what he wanted was a reason why. He needed something, anything, as an answer. James breathed out, eyebrows narrowing when she admitted that she didn't know what to say. What he wanted her to say.

"Anything." James answered. As vague as the word was, he meant it. Anything that could count as some sort of reason for why she chose to lock him out of her life.

There was a noticeable falter in his heart rate, as he swallowed hard. Gathering what to say. "Look... just tell me what I did. Please." James' gaze fell to the floor, unable to look at her. Unable to face his potential wrongdoings. "I need... I just need to know what I did wrong." What he did to make her take the quickest exist out of his life.

[Ella Robbinson]

Evidently, Ella could say anything and it would help this situation. It was honestly difficult for the hemokinetic to believe that; she was sure a majority of the things she had to say would hurt him more than the silence she'd placed between them for several months.

She'd hoped the way she distanced herself would make it easier. It was the first time Ella had managed to lay eyes on him since things took a negative turn. It was impossible to think when she couldn't help but stare. She almost found herself completely sidetracked, but she had to pay attention. He was automatically assuming it was his fault. How long had he felt that way?

"I never said you did a thing wrong." She replied, her eyebrows furrowed in obvious confusion. "You are not wrong."

[James Lawrence]

The space she created between them did not make it easier. Perhaps her intentions were to create some breathing space, to make things easier. But James didn't find it easier; the break was unsettling and hard to deal with. Honestly, he didn't know how to. Ella was still on his mind; every day. Even when he had stopped coming around to her room.

But clearly, it had to be something he did. Why else would she not answer her door for months on end?

It was a stretch for James to ask what he did; the innate part of him said that there was nothing he did wrong. Fought against what spilled from his lips, making the motion to accept the blame. That wasn't typical behaviour for James Lawrence, then or now. He couldn't keep his gaze down for long, dark eyes flickering between Ella and the wall beside her. Remaining stagnant on her as she insisted he did nothing wrong.

Now it was his turn to be confused. James raised an eyebrow, letting his arms fall from his defensive stance. "Then why? Why all of this?" He asked, moving his arms vaguely around them in a sort of gesture. The silence. The distance. Everything. "I had to have done something for this to happen." There was no other reasonable explanation, in his mind.

[Ella Robbinson]

Ella was unaware of where James' eyes were filtering between. The only thing she could register was when his weren't on her, and she felt too thoughtless to try and follow what might carry his attention instead.

She felt the urge to reach out to him, then. Like her fingers ached with the incoherent need to make some kind of contact. Months of separation forced her understanding of the rhythm of his heart to fade, but now that he was standing right in front of her, it'd taken over like the worst habit imaginable.

"Why-" Ella started, but lost her nerve. It wasn't right to question his train of thought when she couldn't even figure out her own. "I can't understand why you'd think you did anything in this situation."

Closing her eyes, she exhaled a heavy sigh. She couldn't dare look at him in that moment. She couldn't face what she knew was inevitably about to happen. "You've met me. You know me." And as such, he must have known where blame would land here.