Postcards and Polaroids

I eventually made it home. I quickly ran upstairs and into the bedroom before Kellin got home. I grabbed a bag from the closet. I couldn’t stay here, not after what happened. I went through my dresser, quickly packing various pairs of pants, shirts, and underwear. Only packing the essentials, I went over to my end table, and saw the necklace. The necklace with his grandfather’s ring. The bright ruby shone bright from the lamp. I bit my lip, picking it up to admire it. I gently slide the necklace over my head. I wasn’t ready to give this up yet, despite what it symbolized. I wasn’t ready to give up Kellin yet. I through the bag on my back and quickly left. I couldn’t see him just yet, and I’m sure this would be the first place he would look.

Kellin’s P.O.V

I watched her speed off, then picked the ring up off the ground. My body went cold; ice cold. I looked at the ring. Only a few scratches. I shoved it deep in my pocket. My heart dropped. What did I just do? Why did I react like that? My mind was racing. How could I be so stupid? She was just being honest with me. I replayed what she said in my head. I never should of yelled at her. I understood what she meant, I don’t know why I got so defensive. I didn’t want those girls. I wanted her, and only her. And I told her I didn’t want her to come. I wouldn’t be able to survive this tour without her.
And I made her cry; as if she wasn’t having a hard enough week as it was. I ruined everything. I needed to find her. I needed to talk to her. She was all I needed, and I let the tour get the best of me. I knew she trusted me. She loved me more than anything, and I treated her like garbage. I felt sick.

I needed to find her.