#said i would be gone a few days but got wifi for a sec so <3

[heyyyharry]

Be Here

(from the Flatmate!Harry Series)

…in which Y/N has to go home for two weeks and Harry misses her terribly.

Warning: nothing, there’s only fluff in this one haha. Also I just updated my flatmate masterlist. If you notice, I update every time I post a new part so you guys will know what the next part is gonna be. *wink wink*

“Do you really have to go?” Harry whines, pouting like a little boy on his flatmate’s bed while watching her pack for her trip back home, away from him for two long weeks.

“Yes, I do,” answers Y/N as she continues folding her clothes. “Violet needs me.”

Violet is Y/N’s best friend from high school. They’re very close, she’s like the sister Y/N wishes she had. That’s why when Y/N received the phone call from John, her other best friend (also Violet’s boyfriend) telling her Violet had just got into a car accident and was staying in a hospital, she knew she couldn’t hesitate, even if Violet was just slightly injured.

“But I need you.” Harry quickly realizes what he just said and has to come up with a good excuse for those accidental words, “without you I’m going to starve, I’m the assistant, not the chef.”

Y/N pauses to smile at her flatmate. “You cooked me soup once.”

“Yeah after four fucking hours in the kitchen!” Harry widens his eyes, raising both of his eyebrows. “And, you hated it.”

“I didn’t!”

“Well, did you love it?”

“Not really.”

“Then you hated it.”

“So order a pizza then!” Y/N giggles as she puts the last piece of clothing into her suitcase, then closes it to move from the floor to her bed, sitting down next to Harry. “You sound as if your life hadn’t begun until you met me.”

It almost feels like it, says the voice inside Harry’s head.

“Two weeks’ too long.” He frowns.

The way he’s looking at her at the moment almost makes Y/N change her mind, but she knows she cannot fall for that. She has made a promise to herself to not let her feelings take over whenever she’s with him (which she fails most of the times, but definitely not this one). After the other night when she literally confessed her feelings for him and he replied with only silence, she knew it was hopeless, and it’d be best if they stayed friends, though it’s just so hard when he keeps sending her mixed signals like this.

With a soft smile, she tells him, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

...

Harry sets his alarm at 5 in the morning the next day so he can see Y/N one last time before she leaves. It’s not like she’d be gone for years, or even months, it’s only two weeks, but Harry starts to miss her already. He helps her bring her luggage to the taxi parked outside the building, complaining about how she should just let him drive her, but Y/N constantly tells him she’ll be fine on her own.

As the taxi driver opens the door for Y/N, she turns to stare at Harry one last time with a longing look on her face.

“I’ll see you in two weeks. Try not to burn our flat down.” She gives him a timid smile and receives one in return.

“I’ll try.” I’ll miss you a whole lot... “Take care, okay?” ...and I love you.

There are so many things both of them need to tell the other person before they separate. Such words remain unspoken as they stand still for what seems like three seconds, craving for a hug (or more) but neither is brave enough to take the initiative. Y/N eventually gets into the backseat of the vehicle and closes the door. 

Watching the taxi slowly disappear from sight, Harry wishes she could take him with her.

...

“Finally, some men time!” Niall cheers as he throws his arm around Harry’s neck, causing his best friend to stumble forward. This morning, Harry ran into Niall in the lecture hall and told him the bad news that Y/N would be gone for a while, Niall’s first reaction was the complete opposite of Harry’s.

“Oh, come on, I’m sure I can make you happy too.” Niall pinches Harry’s cheek as a joke, but Harry is quick to remove his best friend’s arm and push him away with a slight sneer.

“Sure you can.” 

“I’m going to pretend it wasn’t sarcasm.” Niall slightly shakes his head and adjusts his backpack straps as they’re heading to the parking lot. “But, mate, you haven’t spent much time with me and the boys ever since you’ve got a girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Harry replies with a straight face. “She won’t ever be.”

“Are you seriously still lying about not being in love with Y/N?”

“Feelings is a topic we’ve been avoiding since the other night.”

“You’re just gonna let her go after all the things she said?”

“I’m doing what’s best for her.”

“Jesus! You’re like some angsty teenager, Harold!” Niall’s eyes are rolled skyward. “You know what you need? A night out, some beer. How about tonight?”

Harry reaches his car and pulls out the key from his pocket. “Not sure mate. Y/N will probably call me tonight.”

Niall opens the door on the passenger side and stands with one arm resting on the top of it, squinting his eyes at Harry. “If you keep acting like you two are dating, what will happen when she’s got a boyfriend, huh?”

Ignoring his friend’s remark, Harry gets into the driver seat and buckles up his seatbelt, leaving Niall thinking his advice is like water off a duck’s back. But the truth is, what Niall said has really got Harry thinking. 

...

Y/N’s best friend, Violet, is fine. She’s got a broken leg and a few shallow cuts on her face, which will eventually heal and won’t leave any scar according to the doctor. She’s just unable to leave the hospital bed at the moment so Y/N has to spend a lot of time here. But seeing how her presence makes her best friend so content is enough to warm Y/N’s heart.

“Check this out!” Violet pulls her boyfriend closer by the arm to show him a meme on her phone, which makes both of them burst into laughter.

“Where’s the lie?”

Violet snorts at John’s comment. “You know, whenever I hear that question, I automatically think of the whole nine seasons of How I Met Your Mother.”

“Right?!” Y/N, who’s sitting on the armchair by her friend’s bed, joins in. “I made Harry watch the entire nine seasons with me, but he refused to watch the last episode, because of the ending.”

It doesn’t take Y/N more than two seconds to notice the way her two best friends are looking at her.

“And I mentioned Harry again...” She presses her lips together and shifts her eyes immediately back to the opened book on her lap, blushing a little bit when she hears Violet’s soft giggles.

“What are you two gonna do about this?” Violet questions, clearly interested in her friend’s love life.

“Nothing, I guess? He literally said nothing when I talked about my feelings so maybe that’s our solution.”

“Are you serious or sarcastic? Sometimes I can’t even tell,” says John, but the girls ignore him anyway.

"You should never leave a problem unresolved, especially when it comes to feelings. Do as I say, when you get home, straight off tell him ‘I’m fucking in love with you so if you don’t feel the same, we can’t be friends’.”

Y/N puckers her forehead as a response to her girl friend’s advice. “What if he doesn’t feel the same? I can’t just move out!”

“Oh, he feels the same, trust me.”

“Vi, you haven’t even met him.”

John cuts in, “you told us he kept begging you to stay. This guy’s kind of obsessed with you.”

“He is not. He just...wants me there because I cook for him and remind him to do chores.”

Violet stares at Y/N, frustration crinkles her eyes. “It seems to me that you just don’t want to believe he has feelings for you but doesn’t do anything about it, so you try to convince yourself he doesn’t like you at all. I’m sorry to inform you sister, this boy is obviously in love with you, and he’s probably just scared of not being good enough to come forward and admit it. You should just give him time or even a little push, because apparently, this is as new to Harry as it is to you.”

“I...” Y/N is taken aback. “I never thought of it that way.”

"Trust me, I’m an expert when it comes to love.” Violet throws an arm around her boyfriend’s neck, laying her head on his shoulder. “Right baby?”

“Can’t agree more!” John smiles then leans down to peck Violet’s on the lips, the sight of them being heads over heels for one another never fails to put a beam on Y/N’s face. She’s always adored her best friends’ relationship, the real-life high school lovers concept in every teen movie, and it’d be a lie to say she doesn’t crave things like these once in a while. 

Y/N’s not lucky like Violet, she’s experienced love in all the worst ways. Her first boyfriend, Will, whom she lost her first kiss to, cheated on her not so long before Prom night. She then lost the second important first, her virginity, to her Prom date whose name was Brad and he left the next morning before she woke and never called her again. Her second relationship was with an older boy named Noah, it was just a brief fling in the summer before she entered university. He used distance as an excuse to break up with her, but she wasn’t so bitter about it, she didn’t like him that much anyway. 

So looking back, it’s a shame to admit, she’d never really been in love until she met Harry. He’s the biggest plot twist in her life so far, and she’s glad that certain things happened the way they did to lead her to him. 

...

"The wifi sucks! I can’t hear you! Give me a sec,” Harry says in annoyance as he ends the video call and tries to call Y/N again. Her face pops back up on the screen, smiling at him, this time in much better quality.

“Can you hear me now?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods, smiling back. “Where was I?”

“You were telling me about-”

Y/N’s interrupted, this time by some muffled shouting in Harry’s background.

“Is the TV on?” she asks, but he shakes his head ‘no’ then turns around to look over his shoulder.

“Our neighbors are arguing.”

“Ben and Mark?”

“Yup.” Harry rolls his eyes. “Can’t you believe we were like that when we first moved in? Now I feel sorry for our neighbors back then.”

“We’re friends now, thank God.” 

Y/N’s choice of word leaves Harry a little uneasy. How is he suddenly so uncomfortable with her referring to them as ‘friends’? That’s what they are, that’s what he wants them to be. Right? Is it because them being friends also means she can be with someone else and he cannot do anything about it? Or maybe because recently it doesn’t feel like they’re friends anymore. They’ve been video-calling almost every night and texting throughout the day during these two weeks. She’ll be home before noon tomorrow, and then what? He doesn’t want to just go back to being somewhere in-between and risking losing her to someone else. What Niall said two weeks ago has really done him damage. 

Well, speaking of Niall...

“Harry, lend me your car keys!” Harry’s best friend bursts through the front door just in time Harry stands up from the sofa to go get a glass of water.  Niall doesn’t see Y/N on the screen since the laptop screen is turned away from him.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry says to Y/N. Niall, however, thinks that sentence is for him. He watches his friend disappear into his room and suddenly feels the phone vibrate, notifying him of a call.

“Hello?” answers Niall. Y/N stays silent while she’s waiting for her flatmate to return. 

“Yeah, Harry and I will definitely be at the party. Did Lara ask you to ask me this? I know she doesn’t care about me and only wants to make sure Harry will show up.”

Niall laughs, unaware that Y/N’s been listening this whole time. “She was all over him the last time. Sure Harry told me he thought she was hot but...Look, just tell her she’s on her own this time, I’m not going to be her wingman or whatsoever. Okay? Good.”

The phone call ends just in time Harry returns with his car key, sighing happily as he gives it to Niall. “Almost thought I lost it.”

“Thanks. See you at the party tonight, mate?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Harry replies indifferently and watches his friend make the exit. Once Niall’s gone, Harry returns to his previous spot on the sofa, Y/N’s still there, but she doesn’t look as happy as she was just a minute ago. Harry can tell right away.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. As usual, when it comes to this question, she lies.

“Nothing. My mum called. I gotta go.”

“But I was in the middle of telling you the cat story.”

“Tell me when I get back.” 

“But-”

The chat window disappears before Harry can even finish his sentence, leaving him shocked and confused at the same time.

...

It’s two in the morning. How ironic it is that all the interesting things usually happen to Y/N at two in the morning, whether she’s asleep or awake. This time, Y/N’s still lost in dreamland when she receives a voice call from her flatmate. She normally doesn’t answer calls at this hour, but the moment she sees his name on the screen, she does it without pause.

“Y/N?” His voice is raspy. She guesses that he’s either drunk or just woke up, or maybe both.

“Harry, why are you calling me?”

“’Cause I miss you.” 

Yup, definitely drunk.

“Are you still at the party, Harry?” Y/N calmly asks as she flips onto her back, her arm comes to rest on top of her forehead.

“No, Niall drove me home...with a pretty girl.”

Y/N feels a lump in her throat. “Is the pretty girl still there with you?”

“Of course not! She tried to kiss me but I told her no, no, noooo.” She can imagine him wiggling his forefinger from left to right drunkenly and the thought of it makes her smile. 

“So you’re home alone now?” 

“Yesss.”

And the next thing he says really gets her staring at the ceiling with cow eyes.

“Don’t want to be with anyone else, I just want you.”

She doesn’t know exactly how to response to that. She doesn’t even know if she can count on his drunken words to draw a conclusion! But what else can you possibly think when someone just blurts out that they want you only? 

Despite the reply of silence, Harry carries on with his speech anyway, “have you noticed...how I’ve stopped going out and inviting girls over?”

She has. She just doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, though it makes her glad, undoubtedly.

“I just want you...No other girls,” he repeats as if to make a statement. 

Y/N’s biting hard on her bottom lip, trying to come up with something to say to him but her mind is empty at the moment.

“I wish you were here. When will you come back home, Y/N?”

“Tomorrow morning,” she finally speaks, fingers pinching her bottom lip slightly. His voice sounds so soothing, she knows if she continues this conversation, she may not be able to wake up on time, but she cannot help it, she finds comfort in what he’s saying and how he’s saying it a bit way too much.

“Do you miss meeeee?” Harry asks another question, stretching out the final word in a playful tone. Can he be any cuter? Y/N thinks, beaming to herself.

“I do, very much. But only a few hours more and I’m there with you.”

“Okay...you should go to bed, it’s late. Don’t want you to be sick...”

Y/N snorts in response to his reminder, since he was the one who came between her and her sleep. “You should too. I’ll be home when you wake up.”

“Okay, good night, love,” Harry says softly. “Just know that...I love you very much...”

Just like that, Harry hangs up. Y/N lies in the same position, staring at the ceiling, her phone’s still on her ear. With her lips slightly parted and a shock expression on her face, she nearly shuts down her entire system for almost a minute, just because of those five words Harry said to her on the phone. 

She feels so good, no, she’s over the moon! But at the same time, worried, maybe scared? Harry wasn’t sober! He probably won’t remember anything tomorrow morning! But people say you’re most honest when you’re drunk, does that means he was telling the truth, that he loved her very much? But what if he just thought he loved her because he was in a vulnerable state? What if he changes his mind once he’s been refreshed?

Y/N, now drowning in her own inquiries, decides that she won’t be going back to sleep.

...

Harry’s brushing his teeth when he hears the front door open and shut. In a flash, he manages to finish his morning routine, throws on a white t-shirt, and almost trips over a few objects on his bedroom floor as he rushes to the living room. 

The moment Y/N sees Harry after two weeks apart, she takes no time to literally jump ontop of him. Harry has his arms secured around her waist, eyes opened wide as he’s amazed by his ability to keep the two of them in balance and how he didn’t get knocked over by her sudden attack. Y/N locks her arms around her flatmate’s neck, her legs around his waist leaving no space between them.

“I’m home!” she finally says, making Harry chuckle. His face is in her hair and he cannot enjoy this moment anymore than this.

“Yeah, I know. You just jumped on me.”

Y/N pulls her face away from Harry’s neck to look at him. This is the most intimate they’ve been to each other, her lips are just a few inches away from his and the way his minty breath is fanning her face makes her want to kiss him so bad.

“Are you happy I’m home?” she asks.

“Too happy,” he answers.

Then comes another question from Y/N, “do you have anything you want to tell me?” 

This one leaves Harry thinking for a second before he says, “welcome home?” 

The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face really says it all, she jumps off of him and turns to leave. However, Harry grabs onto her wrist just in time to pull her back into his arms.

“I love you,” he finally says, face buried in the crook of her neck, arms tightened around her waist. There’s no turning back now that the words are finally spoken, but his inner self is jumping for joy as he finally gets the heavy weight off his chest. 

Harry feels Y/N hands move from her sides up to his back, then stop at the back of his head, her fingers locked in his hair. He cannot see her face, little does he know, she’s in seventh heaven right now.

“What? You thought I didn’t remember what I’d said? I wasn’t that drunk.”

Y/N immediately pulls away and smacks him on the arm, making the poor boy jump in shock.

“Hey! What was that for?!”

“Why didn’t you just say it like a normal person huh?!” She tries to look pissed, but the radiant in her eyes say otherwise. “Why didn’t you say anything when I fucking poured my heart out for you, asshole?!”

Harry cracks up and reaches out for her hands, at first she shrugs him off but eventually lets him hold them anyway. She hates that he knows she’s loving it, the smug on his face is just so attractively despicable.

“I was really scared!” he confesses, the way his green eyes are looking at her lets her know that he’s being genuine. “I didn’t think I was good enough for you. I thought it’d be better if I let you go and eventually be with someone more worthy.”

“What made you change your mind then?”

“Well, not gonna lie but it’s alcohol.”

“You’re just begging for me to punch you, yeah?” She widens her eyes, but grinning this time.

“Okay, okay, just messing with you.” Harry wraps her arms around his waist so he can stand closer to her like before, a cheeky grin spreads across his lips. 

“One night last week I sat down and thought of two possible outcomes.” He raises one finger. “One, if I let you go, it’s not unlikely that you’ll end up with an asshole who’s even less worthy than me, then I’ll have to beat him up and see you cry for another guy.” Then another. “Two, if I give us a chance, I can try my best not to be an asshole and make you happy, in this case I won’t have to beat up anyone. I went for the latter option.”

Y/N squints her eyes at him. “Gosh, why am I so lucky to fall for someone this romantic?”

“Stooooop, you make me blush!” he rolls his eyes and they both laugh.

“So...” Harry trails off, not taking his eyes off the girl in front of him, secretly wondering to himself why he didn’t meet her sooner. 

“Will you let me kiss you now?” he asks to receive a look of surprise from his flatmate.

“Are you seriously asking for my permission to kiss me? Who are you?!”

“Just so you know I’m also very blessed to fall for someone this romantic.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” says Y/N. Now both of them are sure that the only thing stays constant in their relationship after this moment is how they just enjoy being sarcastic to each other. 

“You’re allowed to kiss me then.” Y/N nods happily, and judging by the way Harry’s been staring at her lips this whole time, he wants this as much as she does. With no hesitation, Harry attaches his mouth to hers, eagerly yet gently. It’s like all the suppressed feelings from the past weeks are put into this one kiss. He’s been dreaming of how she’s tasted for so long so this is like a dream comes true. Of course this is not the first kiss for neither of them, but without any doubt, the first kiss that’s actually meaningful.

And as they pull away, breathless, Y/N finally tells Harry what he thinks he’ll never forgets.

“I love you too.”

#this is kind of messy but i'll edit later #this is not the last one you guys #harry styles #flatmate!harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #bestfriend!harry #boyfriend!harry

[ingridgovaninsights]

The Elliott Chapters- Part 7

I woke to the sound of someone pounding on the door. I startled at the noise, jumping up in my bed. How long had I been asleep? I must have been wiped from doing all that running around with my injuries. That was when I realized Charlotte said she would be coming over- she was waiting for me to answer the door! I forgot I’d locked it.

“One sec!” I cried out, wincing in pain. I struggled to get up, and when I finally rose I looked around for my crutches.

I grabbed them- they had been leaning against the kitchen table- and then I gulped down a few pain killers. I really needed to stay on top of that; apparently I wasn’t so invincible after all. I then hobbled over to unlock the door for Charlotte.

She had gotten changed into a red plaid flannel shirt and ripped jeans. Her hair was slightly damp- she must have just gotten out of the shower. She looked annoyed, I think. I’d gotten pretty good at reading her expressions, having known her for so long.

“I’ve been knocking for like, ten minutes,” she said, stepping past me to come inside. “I was worried you’d fallen over or passed out or something.”

“Why would that happen?” I asked, confused.

“Look at you. You’re a mess. What do you mean why?”

She was sassy sometimes. She didn’t put up with my idiotic ways. I admired that. She rolled her eyes at my stupid question and took a seat at the kitchen table. Hesitantly, I took a seat across from her. I suddenly had no idea where to start, or if I should even start at all.

“So, what’s all this about?” Charlotte asked.

“Look…,” I started, avoiding eye contact.

It had never really been my thing- strong eye contact. My mother always used to get mad at me for that: “Elliott, it’s really rude of you to not look your teacher in the eye when he’s talking to you! You’re being disrespectful.” But hey, I can thank my having Asperger’s for that kind of stuff.

Charlotte looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to say what she had made the trip over here for. She must have assumed it was urgent, because she looked pretty anxious; her leg was bouncing. She did that when she got anxious.

“Charlotte, I really like you,” I said finally, staring at the table.

“I like you too,” she said, “you’re a great friend to me, and I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me. You have no idea.”

“You’re a great friend to me”? Ouch… It wasn’t the response I hoped for. My eyes focused on her for a split second then quickly darted away. Couldn’t hold the gaze.

“No… listen, Charlotte… I think I’m in love with you.”

It probably wasn’t something you were supposed to say to someone you weren’t in a committed relationship with. But I didn’t have that filter, I suppose. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized it was likely a bad idea. 

Too late.

Charlotte was staring at me, speechless. Her face was flushed, and she was fidgeting. I really wanted to take what I said back, because she was clearly uncomfortable, but at the same time at least I would hear what I needed to hear from her- the truth.

“I know you are,” she said, to my surprise, “but… I can’t say I feel the same way. Elliott, you’re my best friend. You know that. We have a great connection, and we have had many years of friendship. I’m sorry…” she trailed off.

“What about those three months we spent together?” I asked. “When we drove around everywhere, doing all those crazy things? We were practically dating.”

Charlotte bit her lip. “I… feel bad about that. You know, I was in a vulnerable place. I’d just broken up with Ross, my mental health wasn’t in good shape at all… I guess you could say I used you as a source of comfort… and for that, I’m truly sorry.”

“So you don’t want to be with me?”

“I’m sorry…”

I already knew her answer before I asked. I just needed to hear it from her. I don’t really know what the difference was, but hearing Charlotte say it made it final. There was no room for misinterpretation. There was nothing more to be said. I slowly got up from the table and grabbed my crutches.

“Where are you going?” Charlotte asked.

“Nowhere. You’re going. I’m sorry, I just need to be alone for now. I’m not mad… I just need some space. Thanks for being honest with me.”

I walked across the apartment and held open the door for her. Maybe it seemed a bit rude, but one could argue I just had my heart broken. Well, not really. I’m not like that. I’ll survive.

But Charlotte didn’t seem offended. She nodded, like she understood, and headed for the door. She looked at me for a moment, as if she were sad about what couldn’t be, and then she left. It’s fine- you can’t force these things.

The moment the door was closed behind her, I locked it quick and started to cry.

***

(Several weeks later...)

Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job

Love you if you love a car for the road trips

Show me the miles and your arms and the pink scar

Where the doctor had to pull out all the bone chips

Cuz you were pressing on the gas just a bit hard

Right in the moment where the road curved a bit sharp

And when you woke up, somebody was unclipping your seat belt

and pulling you from the open window of your flipped car

The song was “Sloppy Seconds” by Watsky. It was a song I’d heard many times before, a song that Charlotte and I had listened to together as we sped down the highway on countless adventures. We always looked at each other with a smile when it came on- it was pretty much our favorite song for a long time. Now, after my accident, the lyrics had an even deeper meaning for me.

I purposely blasted it as I pulled out of the driveway in my new car. Yes, I purchased a new car with the money I got back from selling the engagement ring. But I’d sold my other two vehicles; I would only need one now. It was about two in the morning- a great time to disappear into the night, because who else would be awake at this hour to stop me? After I had that thought, a second thought occurred to me- no one would stop me during the daytime, either. I didn’t have anyone to stop me.

Victoria was gone; Charlotte and I were sort of distancing ourselves; I didn’t know Jeff well enough to think he’d chase after me; my dad was an asshole and my sick mother was fucking dead. What a great support network I had going for me.

I was feeling a lot better physically- my body had made a fairly speedy recovery- yet only slightly better mentally. I’d been thinking a lot over the past few weeks. For the first time in a long time, I hung around my apartment and did next to nothing. I lazed about on the couch, watching really bad action films, chugging beers until I passed out, and then repeated the process the next day. Eventually, I came to my senses a little bit and realized I couldn’t just sit around on my ass for the rest of my life. I had to take some sort of action. Maybe my lazy time was exactly what I needed to figure stuff out.

I had a vague destination in mind- I knew I wanted to go north. Far, far north. It would be quiet and peaceful. My time off work had run out- but I had enough money in my savings to last me several months if I lived frugally, which I did anyways. Oh, and I rented my apartment out to a couple of girls from my old writing class. So, bam, some extra income. My employer would be extremely pissed off to find out I simply left my job out of the blue, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

Just in case someone randomly decided to give a shit, I powered down my cell phone. If I didn’t use it so much for reading up on the news and using the GPS feature, I wouldn’t have a phone at all. But technology has become too multi functional. Perhaps I could pay off the phone, get rid of my plan, and just keep the phone to use with WiFi? That’s an idea…

I’d driven pretty far north on past road trips, but this was different. I wanted to drive to the furthest I’d ever gone, and then some. That would have to be at least eight hours away… See, many would be shocked by that amount of time, but to me, it’s a pretty small number. Eight hours? Big deal. Driving was therapeutic to me- I don’t know anyone else that devoted more hours into road trips than me.

The next time I looked at the clock on the radio, it was four in the morning. How had two hours passed without my realizing it? Sometimes, when driving, my brain went into autopilot. I knew many of the province’s roads well. When I first started out, I followed a map quite closely. Then it went to me glancing at it once in awhile, and pretty soon I wasn’t relying on anything but memory. People were always impressed by that, but when they looked at me incredulously, I would simply ask, “What?”

The BlueTooth on my car radio played through Watsky’s album dozens upon dozens of times. I was far too out of it to be bothered to change it. Besides, it was good music. Charlotte probably wouldn’t have minded- when she found a song or album she liked, she could listen to it on repeat for hours. She really was perfect…

No, Elliott, stop.

What the hell was wrong with my brain lately? Always idealizing Charlotte, putting her on some sort of imaginary pedestal that would never actually be there. I always called myself a practical guy, but when it came to Charlotte, I just couldn’t find any logic in my thinking. I would just have to force myself to cut it out; I’d gotten myself into an unhealthy thought pattern.

Eventually four in the morning became six in the morning, and then seven, and then eight… and at some point, I stopped knowing where I was.

And it was exhilarating.  

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