Flag 12

- Amber Hills -

Her ocean eyes were narrowed, paler fuming in anger and frustration.

I had to calm her down.

I start the car. She turns the radio on and it plays 1950 by King Princess, throwing me almost instantly in my feelings.

(I hate it when dudes try to chase me

But I love it when you try to save me

'Cause I'm just a lady)

Coincidence or fate? either way, it's a painful game.

Our gazes lasted a little too long again, like they always do as if craving for closeness but my eyes still wouldn't dare to take the risk.

(I love it when we play 1950

So cold that your stare's 'bout to kill me

I'm surprised when you kiss me)

I'm moving. The thought of moving always seems to come back no matter what I do.

It was the plan since the very beginning, moving uptown this summer but I never would've thought it would hurt this much knowing I would have to stay miles away from her and bringing in so much distance into the picture, somehow crushes my chest.

Sometimes, I wish I hadn't liked her.

I mean, wouldn't it be easier if my feelings for her were completely platonic?

I turn to face her and she's sound asleep, with her head leaning on the window.

(So tell me why my gods look like you)

This damn timing, I swear, scowling and internally cussing myself.

(And tell me why it's wrong)

You don't always get to choose what and how to feel about somebody. I've read that heart leaves your head surrendered to its wills. If it wills to beat, raise, drop, jump, break, love and ache for somebody, that's something your brain can't control. It's an unfortunate limitation to its power.

Mind over body, but it seems the heart is stronger.

It's crazy what feelings could do to you.

Mind over body.

Mind over body.

Mind over heart.

Mind over heart.

Mind over heart this time.

I can't take these feelings further.

If I fall any deeper to her depths, it'll be a struggle to stay afloat.

Her hand eventually, grazes mine. I turn to look at her, her eyes, still closed but her body seems to be twitching.

Is she having a bad dream?

We're nearing her place. I drive slowly and carefully.

I hear her breaths rushing almost violently. It worries me.

I pull over in front of her home.

She suddenly grips my hand tighter as if holding onto her last bit of hope, as if holding onto her dear life. I watch as tears break free from both her still shut eyes. They start streaming down her cheeks. I squeeze her hand, hoping it'd comfort her somehow.

At that moment, I felt the need to protect her.

She's gripping onto my hand so hard, my rings are hurting my own fingers but I just let her. I had no intention of letting go. There was no reason to and what type of person would even want to let go of someone shaking and panting out of fear?

Beads of sweat now drip down her face. I reach out to her shoulder, rocking her as an attempt to wake her up from what seems to be a terrible dream.

"Liz?"

"Lizzie?"

- Elizabeth Andrews -

(It's probably the blackest hours of the night, the room is pitch-black and it's freezing. My body constantly quivers.

I'm trapped, blinded and lonely.

The lights start blinking, showing images of Amber and I run. I run towards her as fast as my legs could carry. Breathing, unsteady as my own erratic heartbeat.

"Amber!"

"Wait!"

"Please!"

I'm screaming but my voice is muted.

"Wait!"

"Please wait!"

No matter how wide I stretch my arms out, she always seems to be out of reach. I'm still running. My legs start to feel dragged and suddenly, I fall into a deep hole. It's getting harder to breathe. It feels as though I'm getting choked by air itself. I feel like I'm drowning and worse, drowning in the dark without a single source of light.

A hand latches onto me and I hang onto it tightly as if my life depends on it.)

"Lizzie, wake up!"

I force my eyes open.

"Liz--"

"Please stay".

- Amber Hills -

"Please stay," her eyes, bloodshot out of fear and sadness. Her tone was practically begging.

I stare at her with wide eyes.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. My breathing had stopped for a brief moment, my throat felt shot. I couldn't bring myself to word out anything.

I just held her in my arms tightly, rubbing her back comfortingly.

"Please stay."

It hurt.

Looking at her like that, hurt.

She buries her face close to my neck under my chin as I consolingly caress her until she calms down.

God, she looks so helpless.

I could feel her breathing gradually turn softer and more composed though she still clings onto me. She rests her head on my shoulder.

"It was a bad dream," her voice almost like a whisper.

Her hands cling onto the sleeves of my sweater firmly, her eyes were gray and afraid, her words were rushing, "Everything was dark, I--I was screaming an--and running and pa--panting, and y--y--you, you were disappearing and I tri--tried t--to reach you but you couldn't hear me and you, you left--"

I cut her off, "Shh, calm down, Liz," extending my left hand to cup her cheek.

"That was just a dream," I speak firmly.

"This," gesturing with my right index finger, drawing in kind of like a circular motion, pointing out to the space between us, "This is real."

"I know it's just that, you left in that dream and--," her tone, shaky and worried.

I wrap my arms around her.

"I'm here," I softly muster.

At least, right now, I still am.

(I'm still here), I think to myself, nibbling on my lower lip.

I'm still here.