floating | ✓

42| truth

A/N: Get a tissue box, people. You will need it. It is gonna be cliche, but it is gonna be good. I cant still believe the book is completed. You guys are the BEST READERS EVER. Thank you so much for making my every day better. I would not have survived my spiral days without you all. Thank you so much. I will go get some tissues myself.

“Two eyes of a soul
Two heart in the dark
I held the match and
you held the spark.”
In heart wake, Arrow

- sent by Marwolaeth

42| truth

I insert the key into Oliver’s door. My heart beats rapidly as I hear a click, and the door unlocks. I can hear my heart drumming in my ears.

I slowly open the door without making any sound. I get inside. The room is dark and empty. I look at the closet. Oliver is on the other side of it, in his room, where his robots and computer are.

I take a deep breath. I don’t know what will happen, but I will do my best.

I walk towards the washroom and open the door. I start carrying out my plan. I turn on the tap. Water flows. It’s not enough sound, so I flush. Twice. Maybe I should turn on the shower too. Will that be enough sound?

I fake wretch, loudly enough.

Then I hear footsteps. My heart beats staccato.

Oliver is coming. He is coming.

I hear him opening the closet door. I look down at the floor. I was sitting there that night.

I sit down, placing my hands over my stomach, looking down at my black hoodie. It is the same one I was wearing that night. The night I crashed into this beautiful boy’s life, the boy who loves me.

A tear almost slips from my eyes. I wipe it and wait for him.

The footsteps come closer. Then they stop. I see his shoes.

“What—” Oliver says. He stops abruptly, as soon as he sees me.

I look up. My eyes meet his.

I want to throw myself at him. I want to hug him so tightly, I want to kiss him, so badly that I am physically hurting. My heart squeezes as his eyes meet mine.

“Hi,” I say. My voice trembles. My eyes burn with tears but I hold them back.

Oliver stares at me. He looks as surprised as he can look. He doesn’t make any sound.

“I was just puking here in your toilet,” I say and laugh a little.

“I am Gwen Bradbury. It’s nice to meet you,” I say, sitting there, looking up at him.

Oliver stares at me in reply.

“And you don’t have to tell me who you are,” I say, “because I know that. You are Oliver Carlson and you have been in love with me for 566 days, 4 hours, and 38 minutes.”

I swallow. My throat hurts. I am about to cry.

“And look at me, the love of your life, puking in your toilet. I could never know how you feel about that,” I say. My heart squeezes again.

“And you are flustered and you will tell me to leave because if I don’t, you will pick me up, you’ll hug me, and you’ll tell me everything will be alright. I don’t know you properly yet so that would make you a creep.”