REVOLVING DOOR ୨ৎ

(based on "Revolving door" by Tate McRae. go check it out if you haven't already!)

this is a long one lol, buckle up.
storyline!

you and jude were a thing of the past.

a distant memory, but something that came to your mind from time to time.

it's not that he did anything wrong.

how could he? he was perfect.

but you weren't.

the relationship started off steady.

loving.

easy.

until it collapsed into utter disaster.

you changed your mind so much, you could barely find it.

the future suddenly seemed more important than breathing,

and it overcame you like suffocation.

you started working more, and more, and more.

you became exhausted, trying to ignore the invisible fingers of stress curling around your throat, cutting off any fresh breaths of tranquility.

he tried helping. he really did.

but god, you were helpless.

and you weren't even trying to hurt him.

but you did nonetheless.

inevitably, the work consumed you whole,

and you ended it. just like that.

he brushed it off with a simple agreement, saying that his football career had him busy as well.

but you could tell by the way his brown eyes deadened that it was the complete opposite.

the second he left, you felt a cold, unwelcome emptiness wrap around you like smoke.

smoke that drowned you alive, that sucked all the life out of you.

and that dreaded feeling of...

instant regret.

instant regret.

instant regret.

instant regret.

instant regret.

.

and pain.

so much pain.

you tried everything-

you moved from the east wing to the west wing of the city,

but you weren't sure if it was actually helping.

you took therapy,

but it wasn't him talking you through it.

you took medication,

but he was the only one that could calm you down.

you tried saying you were fine,

but you were in pure denial.

you tried journaling,

but his name was in every page you wrote on.

you tried calling him off like a bad habit,

but bad habits sometimes tend to come back.

you tried hiding it behind humor,

but his laugh still echoed in your head.

you tried believing you couldn't want him any less,

but it only ended up in you wanting him more.

you even tried moving on.

but it was never him.

you kept coming back to him as if someone pushed a door with no hinges,

spinning in maddening circles until you felt you were like losing your mind.

it lasted like that for a while, with you constantly in disarray.

you were more hurt than you would admit,

because who were you to feel pain

when you were the one that ended it in the first place?

it. you needed a minute.

a simple break from everything.

a break from him.

until eventually... it faded.

you shut it down.

and so did everything else.

your heart you claimed to be cold was finally melting,

melting into an abnormal state of serenity and reassurance.

the world seemed to start revolving,

and you stopped.

you carried on with your life, your heart not as heavy as it was before.

you started going to parties more,

hanging out with your friends,

and restraining yourself from too much work.

you even considered texting him.

checking in on him.

seeing if he was ok.

however, that was the one thing you couldn't bring yourself to change.

another thing you couldn't bear to do was try again.

try with another person, who wasn't jude.

the idea seemed almost refreshing, yet you turned it down.

you didn't want to carry the burden of hurting more people.

nonetheless, you managed to grab a hold of a handle,

and you were slowly but surely attaching the hinges back onto your life.

until that night.

you had just had the most awful day at work.

every project you'd poured yourself into seemed to fall apart,

and you kept getting assigned to more and more and more tasks.

you could almost sense those familiar hands of stress hovering over your throat, getting ready to strike.

you left your shift around 11 p.m, the exhaustion from the day all that was evident in your current state.

and then your luck struck again.

you felt something cold brush against your cheek.

a raindrop.

then another.

and another.

until suddenly, it was pouring rain, blurring your vision almost completely.

you placed your hand above your eyes, searching for a taxi, any taxi, to get home.

the streets of boston weren't as busy that night,

so it was completely ironic every taxi that you waved to, sped by you ignorantly, not even slowing down a bit.

you've nearly had enough.

you were soaking wet, shivering,

there was no way home,

and so much work to do.

you buried your face in your hands, silent tears pooling in with the rainwater.

then, unexpectedly, the rain no longer hit your shoulders.

you froze, and lowered your palms, adjusting your tear-streaked vision.

instead, the rain drummed softly against fabric above your head.

a small circle of warmth had formed around you, shielding you from everything outside of it.

an... umbrella?

you then noticed another pair of feet next to yours.

the shoes looked strangely familiar.

black suede.

worn adidas gazelles with metallic gold accents...

wait.

black suede.

worn adidas gazelles with metallic gold accents.

you slowly lifted your gaze, taking in his appearance.

dark denim.

a charcoal hoodie beneath a long black coat.

his sleeve was already damp from where the rain had soaked one shoulder,

the umbrella tilted just enough to keep you dry instead.

one hand was tucked into his pocket,

and the other steadily held the thin, curved handle of the umbrella.

for one impossible second, you convinced yourself you were imagining things.

grief had a funny way of making ghosts look real.

before you could even process anything, something snapped you from your thoughts.

"you still don't carry an umbrella with you, huh?"

it wasn't said in a teasing way. it was almost nostalgic, thoughtful.

the voice was smooth, deep, and painfully recognizable.

you then finally,

finally.

your gaze met his face.

and your heart stopped.

the second you saw those coffee brown eyes stare right back at you, you knew this was reality.

jude.

all of a sudden, those hinges you had so carefully been attatching back to your door started detatching,

until you realized the door had started revolving once more.