Near to You

----------
He and I had something beautiful
But so dysfunctional, it couldn't last
I loved him so but I let him go
'Cause I knew he'd never love me back
----------

Phoebe’s all over the place; packing up every bit of clothing she has in this little one bedroom apartment. Miscellaneous items litter her tiny bed, thrown with ever way they landed in her haste. Since she’s in such a hurry, there’s a thought in the back of her mind that he some how knows she’s leaving, Phoebe stumbles across the threshold of her bedroom and into the bathroom, knocking her hip into the hard wood of the door frame.

She winces at the sharp prickle-pain that shoots up her side.

Grabbing the material of her old high school shirt, Phoebe slowly lets it ride up so she can see the dark purple bruise that is blossoming from last night’s more brutal fight between the two of them. She drops the shirt and reaches up to push back her blonde hair from her forehead. Breathing in deeply, she refocuses herself and grabs all the toiletries off the counter and into a small bag that she can easily put in her suitcase.

Suddenly, startling her, a loud cell phone chime sounds off throughout the apartment.

Phoebe runs towards it, trying to keep her heart beat steady as he stares down at the name flashing across the screen. She sighs when she sees that’s it’s not his name beckoning for her to pick up.

“Vicky-T,” she sighs into the receiver and drops down to the floor, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I don’t think I can do this. I’m no good at running away.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. I’m practically at your apartment. There’s no turning back now because I did not make this trip from the City just to turn back around.”

“But--”

Vicky-T grumbles from across the line and Phoebe can hear a car honking in the background. “No ’buts’. You need to get away from that asshole. And don’t tell me no because that phone call last night had me worry my ass off that you were not gonna be okay by the time I got to your place.”

“Okay,” Phoebe whispered and pushes herself up from the grimy carpet. “I’m almost done. Just buzz up here, the door is open. I only have a few bags to bring down. See you.”

She didn’t wait for a reply back, just ends the call with a press of her thumb and shoves the phone in her pocket. Rushing, Phoebe shoves everything on her bed into the large black suitcase that is waiting, empty, on her computer chair. She let’s out a shuttering sigh and pulls the large suit case off the chair, tugging it through the apartment and to the front door, so that she‘s ready to move on.

As if she knew, Vicky-T buzzes up to the apartment. “Let me in, it’s cold. What the Hell, this is Pennsylvania! Why is it not warm.”

“Shut up,” Phoebe tries to laugh out as she buzzes the door open. “Since when has Allentown ever been warm at this time of year?”

“Touché, my fellow friend.”

“Victoria Asher, stop pressing the damn button and help me carry my stuff down.”

Vicky-T clicks her tongue against her teeth, loud enough for Phoebe to hear. “I’m coming, Jesus Christ. Just get all the stuff by the door. Who knows if that asshole is going to show up.”

A shiver crawls up her skin, up her spine, making her shake at the fear that is has embedded into her mind.

She cautiously looks at the room around her, noticing the blank spots that used to hold her stuff. But now, the only things that stand out are the useless junk and beer bottles that he left around because he is always too drunk to pick up after himself. Thinking to herself, she can’t help but to find herself wanting to stay and try to help him, but as of recently, that only results in bruises along her arms and stomach.

The door blows open, causing Phoebe’s eyes to widen, but soon return to normal when she finds the tall brunette standing in the doorway with a seemly-always-there cigarette between her two fingers.

She picks up a bottle of Jack Daniels and sniffs the content inside, making a face. “This place is a fucking dump.”

“Gee,” Phoebe says sarcastically, lugging the luggage out the door, “thanks, Vicky-T. I think I know, I live here.”

“Used to live here. Not anymore. Besides, you don’t need to clean up after he’s sleazy ass anymore.”

Phoebe looks down and takes the apartment key off the ring on her keys, mumbling, “Can we not talk about this right now? I just want to get to New York City and forget for a little.”

Feeling sympathy for her, Vicky-T pulls her into a one-arm hug and rubs a soft hand over the fingerprint-bruises that litter Phoebe’s arms. “Hey, I’m sorry. But, let’s get going before the traffic on the bridge gets too bad in rush hour. Hope you don’t mind, I have another room mate. He’s a sweetheart, but a little crazy.”

Phoebe shoots Vicky-T an uncomfortable look.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just loves to talk to people-- and er, dance? Not very good I might add. Oh, and he’ll totally try to make you swoon by speaking to you in Spanish. I don’t understand it, so it didn’t work on me.”

“I don’t understand it either?”

Vicky-T laughs and slams the front door close, following Phoebe towards the elevator. “See! Crisis adverted due to lack of knowledge. Let’s get going, hon. You look like you could use an hour long car ride.”

Taking one withering glance back at the apartment she’s leaving behind, the life and man she’s leaving behind, Phoebe swallows and stays quiet.

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Such pain as this
Shouldn't have to be experienced
I'm still reeling from the loss,
Still a little bit delirious
----------

“Aaron, just stop,” Phoebe sighs at the sight of her boyfriend throwing random bits across the living room. From worn books to the television remote. “Just fucking stop for once!”

The man narrows his eyes at her and stalks over to her, folding his thick fingers around her throat and squeezing enough to make her breath catch. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Aaron,” she says his name as calmly as she can, looking around the room and trying to locate the phone. “Let me go, please.”

“Or what?”

“Can we please not do this tonight, babe? Please.”

Giving the frightened girl another glare, his green eyes are glazed over due to the alcohol, Aaron releases his hold and let’s his hands fall; becoming fists at his side.

As if she were a scared animal, Phoebe cowers away from with her shoulders hunching up to ear. “I can’t take this anymore,” she whispers to herself.

All of a sudden, a sharp pain is bubbling from her scalp as she realizes that Aaron has a hold of her ponytail, pulling her back towards him.

“What was that?” he hisses and throws an arm around her throat, cutting off all her breathing.

Phoebe gasps and fights against him. “G-Get o-off of--”

“You need to learn how to talk to people. I believe I asked you a question.”

“I-I can’t b-b-breathe.”

“I don’t think I care,” Aaron seethes, but looses his arm a little, letting her take a breath before squeezing again. “Now, what did you say?”

Trying to blink away the black dots that are floating around in her sight, Phoebe let’s out a cry and claws at his muscled forearm, her nails scraping at the skin. Aaron let’s out a harsh, surprised gasp and pushes her away, cradling his bleeding arm. Phoebe didn’t have a chance to be grateful that she was free from his grasp; falls heavily onto the wooden table. She feels her hip throbbing painful and she moans out in agony.

Aaron laughs loudly at her curled up figure and steps over her. “Maybe you’ve learned your lesson, babe.”

Phoebe cries silently and listens to the door slam.

----------
Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.
----------

It’s been over a week since she’s been staying at Vicky-T’s condo and Phoebe finds herself winding down. No longer is she looking over her shoulder, thinking that somehow Aaron has found her miles away. Vicky-T makes her feel as if she wasn’t a guest, but someone who has been living there for years. She gave up the guest bedroom for Phoebe, making space of the clutter that has grown through out the years of not being used.

“Hola, chica!”

Phoebe jumps in surprise and throws the magazine she was reading to the floor. She looks up to see a dark haired boy leaning against her door frame with a satisfied smile on his lips. “Do you ever knock?” she jokes. “Or since you pay rent, you think you can just barge into people’s room.”

The boy chuckles and moves, no, shimmies, into the room. “A little of both. I never knock, so lock the doors if you don’t want me to see anything.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Gabe.”

Gabe grins fully and collapses onto the pillows next to her, like he’s known her for years. “So, Vicky-T’s just left to go out on the town with Nate. What are you up to for tonight?”

Phoebe picks up her copy of Cosmopolitan and finds her page that she was reading up on, whether she was a winter or spring. “Nothing really. Just brushing up on some reading.”

“That’s not reading. That’s just a stupid, girly magazine.”

“You’re a stupid, girly magazine,” Phoebe mumbles and turns her body away from him, ignoring his pout and how he hooks his chin over her shoulder. “Can you not read over my shoulder? It’s distracting.”

Gabe huffs and rolls over, so that he laying on her stomach, not caring about her personal space. “Well, I was thinking, you know, if you’re not doing anything and I’m not doing anything… we could do something together.”

“Like what? Have a dance battle in the living room like my first night here? Sorry, but scarred me for life with that.”

“My hips don’t scar, nor lie.”

Phoebe feels true laughter bubbling up from her chest. “Oh, God, go away.”

“No, I won’t go away. Unless…” Gave trails off and flashes her a devious grin, placing his chin in his palm. “Unless you agree to go see a movie with me. I’ll buy.”

Feeling her face fall, Phoebe shifts uncomfortably, trying to seem natural as she pushes Gabe gently off her. “I don’t know.”

“Aw, come on, bonita,” Gabe all but purrs out, in between his controlled laughter. “No girl can deny a free movie.”

“I’m not really in the mood.”

“Please? Don’t think of it as a date or anything. I mean, you could because I wouldn’t mind. ‘Cause guys take girls to the movies all the time as a date or a friendly thing, but it would be nice to count as a date-- Wow, I’m rambling I don’t normally do that. Vicky-T says I do when I really like someone-- Okay, I’m going to shut up.”

Phoebe’s eyes widen and she swallows slowly, feeling her chest flutter in fear and nervousness. She won’t deny that he’s sweet, just like Vicky-T had told her, but she knows she’s not in the right state of mind to start anything that resembles a relationship. “Maybe not tonight, Gabe. Rain check?”

Face falling the tiniest bit, Gabe nods his head and plasters a fake smile on his face. “’Kay, rain check. I can do that. I’ll hold you to it.”

I hope so, Phoebe thinks to herself. Give me time, please.

----------
You and I have something different
And I'm enjoying it cautiously
I'm battle scarred, I am working oh so hard
To get back to who I used to be
----------

The streets of New York City are bustling with city folk and business men with their over-sized jackets and brief cases. Phoebe is slowly walking beside Gabe, her steaming cup of coffee keep left hand warm as her other one shakes due to the cold. She huddles more into her jacket and shivers.

“Cold?” Gabe asks when he looks over at her, noticing her red, sniffling nose.

Phoebe startles and shakes her head. “Oh, no,” she lies and tries to calm her shivering. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Rolling his dark eyes, Gabe unwinds the checkered scarf from his neck and wraps it snuggly around her neck. He smiles softly and back away. “You need to work on your lying.”

Feeling her face flush, Phoebe pulls the scarf up over her chin, euphoniously breathing in the sweet scent of his cologne. She looks over at him from under her eyelashes and bites her chapped lips. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.”

As they walk, their hands bump each other occasionally, causing them to both laugh and look away awkwardly. Making a bold move, Gabe hesitantly laces his fingers through hers and sends her a questioning glance. In return, Phoebe looks down and squeezes their hands together gently, continuing to walk, not noticing Gabe’s face starting to blush under his dark, tanned skin.

“What’s this?” he asks as he runs his fingers over the slightly raised scars on the back of her hand.

Phoebe looks down and takes a deep breath, trying not to remember one of Aarons temper tantrums that resulted in her hand going through a mirror. “I fell on glass. I’m a bit clumsy.”

“I don’t like it when you lie,” Gabe murmurs. “Vicky-T’s told me you’re staying with us because you got out of a bad relationship. I have my own suspicions, but I don’t want you to not trust me. We’re friends, yes we’ve known each other for only a month, but I want you to know that if you need to talk about it at all, I’m here.”

“I-I--” Phoebe sips her coffee to get over her stuttering. “Thank you.”

“Stop saying ‘thank you’. I’m here for you. Just down the hall if you need to talk.”

“I know. I’ll be sure to come to you when I need to let some things out.”

Gabe’s lips quirk into a smile. “I’m a good listener.”

“I know,” Phoebe sighs and finds herself walking closer to him, letting their linked hands swing softly between them. “You’re a good guy, Gabe.”

“I hope so. For you, I mean.”

Phoebe swallows and rests her head against his arm, breathing in slowly and shallowly.

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He's disappearing
Fading suddenly
I'm so close to being yours
Won't you stay with me
Please
----------

The bruises are slowly, slowly fading; the skin no longer tender and sore. Phoebe always checks her body when she passes a mirror when no on is watching her. But, unknown to her, Gabe watches her silently from behind a wall or standing silently a ways away from her. Every time she sees the marks, she sighs and runs the tips of her fingers at the reminders of the type of abuse she put up with because she thought she loved him.

But over the time of being away, Phoebe figures that that was not what love was, not even close.

With each bruise fading, Aaron is slowly disappearing from her mind.

She pushes her sweat shirt down and pushes her hair out of her sparking, blue eyes. Sighing, she trudges down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Gabe tries to busy himself with making a bowl of noodles, trying to make it seem that he wasn’t watching her.

“Hey,” he says, looking up from the bowl with a breath-taking grin. “You want something to eat?”

Phoebe makes a face and drops down to the kitchen table, pulling her knees to her chest. “I’m not really hungry. I want to know where Vicky-T is. You know?”

“She never really tells me. She just leaves at the most random times.”

“Huh.”

Gabe nods and swirls some of the noodles onto his fork, taking a large bite that has Phoebe laughing not-so-quietly from her spot as she watches. He looks up and sends her a dark, playful look. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” she says as she gets up. “Absolutely nothing, Gabriel.”

“Lo que tú digas, hermosa.”

“You do know I have no idea what you’re saying half the time.”

“I said ‘whatever you say, beautiful’.”

Phoebe blushes and pushes Gabe out of the way of the top cabinets, grabbing for a glass to pour water into. She runs the tap water and watches the water raise in the cup, lost in a train of thought. Shaking herself from it, Phoebe stands up straighter, her back colliding with something behind her. She gasps and turns around, quickly.

Gabe tilts his mouth up into a crooked smile. “I want a cup, too.”

“O-Oh. Um, okay? I can get you one--”
“Nah, I got it.”

He reaches up around her, never taking his eyes off of her, and blindly grabs one of the matching cups. Since he’s not paying attention to what he’s doing, he stumbles into her body, pinning hers to the counter. “Shit-- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean.”

Phoebe grabs his face between his hands and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

Gabe’s the first to pull away, biting his lip and giving her an awkward glance. “What was that for?”

“Do I really need a reason?”

“No,” Gabe laughs and kisses her forehead, softly. “No, no reasons.”

----------
Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.
----------