Endlessly

Ville woke up later that night, momentarily confused as to why he was laying on the floor. He hoisted himself up on his elbows and looked around his dark bedroom. The soft sounds of Emilia’s breathing triggered his memory and he chuckled at himself.

At least this time it wasn’t a drunken mishap that had left him on the floor.

Rising from the nest he’d created on the floor of pillows and blankets, he made his way over to his bed where he found Emilia curled up in a ball underneath the comforter. Smiling, he reached over to brush an errant hair from her face which caused her to stir slightly.

They’d come back to his house once they’d purchased all necessary supplies for the act of vandalism they were preparing to commit. He’d reveled in the small acts of normalcy that they’d engaged in all afternoon: watching movies, making dinner together, tossing teasing jokes at one another… all of it felt like something more. Something that it should have been all along.

Still, she seemed to have some kind of a barrier up and Ville couldn’t figure out why it existed. She had seemed to have forgiven him for his mistakes but it was as though she was afraid of letting herself get too close and so she’d pull away from him.

In the middle of their third movie, he’d looked over and found her sleeping at the end of the couch. He’d gently woken her and suggested a nap before their shenanigans, an offer which she’d eagerly accepted. She’d attempted to settle in on the couch but he knew from experience that it wasn’t a great place to fall asleep. He’d regretted the impulse buy many times after he’d woken up with a hangover and a backache.

She’d resisted his offer of taking his bed. The wall came up again as soon as he’d brought it up. He dismissed her fears and told her he’d sleep on the floor which brought another round of argument. Ultimately, he’d allowed her to fall asleep on the couch again and then scooped her up and brought her to his bed where she’d at least be comfortable. Then, true to his word, he’d slept on the floor.

He watched as her eyes slowly started to flutter open, her pale skin bathed in the moonlight that poured in the large windows in his bedroom. She smiled sleepily at him and sighed.

“You were right, this bed is incredible.”

He chuckled at her and brushed his hand gently along the soft skin of her arm. She watched the action but did nothing to stop it as she might have earlier.

“I’ll have to get an actual bed in the guest room now that you’re back. I never really had much use for it before so I never thought to furnish it with anything other than the desk in there,” he mused, enjoying the feeling of her under his fingertips.

“I really can go sleep on the couch when I come over, Vil. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is though. I bought that thing because I liked the feeling of the fabric and that’s where its positive features end. I’ve spent my share of nights on it, I’m doing you a favor. Trust me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t argue the subject further. She wasn’t so sure that she should be spending many more nights here as it was. He’d been flirtatious all afternoon, much more so than usual and it was worrying her. It was hard to be around him without everything she’d ever felt for him bubbling to the surface, even more so when he was practically throwing himself at her.

As she became more aware of his hand gently tracing outlines on her arms, she slowly pulled away and sat up. Watching his face fall slightly tugged at her heartstrings.

“You ready to go?” she asked with a smile, trying to return Ville’s to his face. Instead he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“You’re going in just a t-shirt and jeans? Brave. Germany hardened you,” he smirked.

Emilia had to roll her eyes at him. She’d discarded her sweater somewhere downstairs but it was red and hardly fit for a stealth mission. Reading her mind, Ville got up from the edge of the bed and walked over to his wardrobe. She watched as he rummaged around and finally produced a black hoodie which he tossed to her.

“Put your sweater on under that, it should be warm enough,” he said as he looked around for a long sleeved shirt for himself.

He pulled off the t-shirt he was currently wearing and Emilia felt the heat rising in her cheeks as she took in the sight of him shirtless. He’d always been attractive when they were younger but a few years and more than a few tattoos had done quite a bit to enhance that. She admonished herself for staring and looked away but not before he’d seen the hunger in her eyes.

“You going to change or are you going to just use those telekinetic powers of yours again?” he asked jokingly as he pulled a shirt on. The thought crossed his mind to tease her for staring at him but he thought better of it, figuring it would only make the distance she kept trying to put between them greater.

Once again she narrowed her eyes at him and threw the covers off her body as she stalked off downstairs to retrieve her discarded sweater.

‘Should have just gone home and let him pick me up. This was too much.’ She thought to herself as she searched for her things.

The fact that their entire day together felt as though nothing had changed between them was very concerning to her. They’d been reunited for two days. This was all happening too quickly and she knew she was allowing the situation to spin rapidly out of control. The desire to run straight into his arms was too strong for her to ignore and doing just that would destroy her.

As she pulled on Ville’s borrowed hoodie over her newly found sweater, she began to formulate ways to tell him she needed space for a little while, at least until she was certain she could control herself. She’d almost given in to him too many times that day and it was only a matter of time until she did.

Thinking of being apart from him as she was bathed in his scent from his sweatshirt, felt as though she were casting her heart from her body.

“Are you ready, kulta?” Ville asked as descended the staircase and found her staring steadily at the ground, very much lost in her thoughts.

Emilia turned to look at him and found herself wondering why, when he surely had plenty of women begging to be his, he was only interested in the pursuit of a girl from him childhood. Why was he doing these things to her when all he could offer her was heartbreak? Why couldn’t he just be her best friend again?

The questions she thought tugged on her lips as she gazed upon him but the kind look he gave her caused the words to die in her throat. She simply smiled at him and nodded.

If this was to be their last adventure for a while then she would at least allow herself to enjoy it. At least she’d have the memories to hold onto for a time.



Ville watched as Emilia grew steadily more frustrated with their lack of progress on the door. They’d been at it for an hour now and had only succeeded in turning into a streaky purple mess. Add the fact that the paint wasn’t drying very well due to the cold temperature and he had begun to worry her face would be stuck in a permanent scowl.

“Perhaps we should have gotten primer,” he murmured, careful not to raise his voice too loudly.

“Or waited until spring.”

Emilia dipped her brush in the paint can again and went over the same spot she’d been practically attacking for the last hour. She growled as the paint pulled away to reveal more of the red beneath.

It was mocking her now.

“I give up!” She threw the brush and it landed with a distinct thud in the snow. Ville looked to where it landed and sighed.

“We’ll get it done, don’t get so discouraged.” He knew that his attempts to assuage her anger where in vain. She’d always nearly impossible to calm when properly incited.

“No, this was a waste of time,” she stood and wiped at her brow. He hadn’t the heart to tell her that she’d trailed a line of blue across her forehead.

“Em, come on. We have a few more hours before the sun comes up. We’ll let it dry for a little while and then come back and put on another coat,” he rose and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
Her look softened but she still shrugged herself out of his grasp.

“Fine, let’s go for a walk or something,” she conceded and practically stomped off toward the sidewalk. Ville sighed and replaced the lid on the can of paint and hid their tools in the bushes in case someone should stumble upon their handiwork.

By the time Ville had jogged to catch up, Emilia was almost to the end of the block. In her irritation, she was walking much faster than normal and his breath was coming out in slight wheezes once he’d reached her.

“You forgot your inhaler again, didn’t you?” She commented, her voice still displaying some harshness despite the concern her question suggested.

“Yeah. Between the cigarettes and the asthma I’m doomed anyway,” Ville joked as he caught his breath.

“That’s stupid, Ville. How would the people who care about you feel if you died from something so small that you absolutely could have prevented?”

“Relax, Em. I’ll start bringing it,” he replied. She’d been harsh with him the entire night and now she was overreacting to his jokes; he wondered if perhaps she was overtired but either way it was becoming grating.

“You should have had it from the start. Did you think the paint fumes wouldn’t irritate your lungs?”

“Okay Mother, I’m sorry!” He spat, finally growing fed up with her attitude. This entire night had been about her. He’d done all of this for her. And she’d repaid him like this.

She stopped in her tracks and looked at him, trying to maintain her fierce gaze but her eyes revealed the conflict within. Emilia watched as he tried to match the look she gave him but he softened before she was willing to.

“What’s really the matter, Em? You’ve been cranky all night.” He reached forward to take her hands within his, not caring about the paint that she was covered in. He’d not quite figured out how she’d managed to get nearly as much on herself as the door.

“The door looks ridiculous. She’s just going to have to get a new one.”

He gave her a disbelieving look. “Try again. You’ve been moody off and on all day.”

Avoiding his gaze, she slowly began to slip her hands out of his. This time, he wouldn’t allow her to retreat from him. He was going to get to the bottom of why she wouldn’t allow him to get too close to her.

“It’s nothing, Ville.” She started pulling him in the direction from which they’d come. “Let’s go, maybe its dry enough…”

“Emilia!”

She flinched as he raised his voice at her and stopped trying to tug him down the street. He released one of her hands to cup her cheek and bring her eyes to meet his. Ville stared down into the cerulean depths of her eyes and wondered what was happening behind them. She seemed to want to sink into his touch and yet she had stiffened ever so slightly.

“Em, please. What is wrong?”

Tears pricked her eyes. She wasn’t ready for this talk. She had wanted to prepare. She had wanted to lock away all of the things that she felt for Ville before she was willing to tell him that it was over before it had even begun.

“This,” she said finally. “All of this is wrong.”

Ville’s brow crinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She sighed with frustration and pulled one of her hands free to stop the tears that had escaped. Ville reached up to wipe them away as well and she avoided his touch.

“That!” She cried, everything welling up within her once again. “Ville you can’t keep-“

“What? I can’t keep what, Emilia? Being affectionate?” He was growing frustrated with her as well. Actions she’d accepted the day before were suddenly not good enough. He just wanted to show her that she was still important to him in that way. That despite the distance the years had put between them, nothing had changed for him. He still loved her. He still wanted her.

“Yes, Ville. It’s too much.”

“What do you mean too much?”

She threw her hands up and turned in half a circle, laughing ironically to herself. Of course he didn’t understand.

“Ville, I can’t…be with you like that. You know that, right?”

He was genuinely taken aback by her statement. “Why not?”

He didn’t even deny the intent behind his actions and that made everything so much harder for Emilia. He didn’t even know he’d break her heart someday. He really thought she’d be enough in his whirlwind of a life. She needed him to understand that this was the best thing for them.

“This would only end with both of our hearts broken. You’re a rock star now, Ville. You’re off travelling the world and meeting a million interesting people who would do anything for you. And what, I would stay at home and wait for you? I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.”

“You’d come with me…like we always talked about,” he answered softly.

“And what about my life?” Tears tumbled down her face freely now, it was so hard to not just nod her head and wrap herself in his arms.

If he were being honest, he’d not considered it. Emilia coming with him to travel the world had just always been part of the plan. But that was back before she’d really created a life for herself. Before she’d gone to school and gotten her degree, before her nephew had even been a thought in her sister’s mind.

“I need to go home,” she said finally and she turned in the direction of her sister’s apartment.

“No Emilia, wait!”

She whirled around and faced him as he approached her. “Stop, Ville. I need to go home.”

Wordlessly, he cupped her face between his hands and pressed his lips to hers. She offered no resistance as more tears slid down her cheeks while she kissed him back. Her hands found their way to the base of his neck where she tangled her fingers in the dark curls that had escaped his beanie. His kisses lit a fire within her and she knew that this was the feeling she was fearful of.

“Tell me you don’t feel that. Tell me that didn’t feel right to you,” he said breathlessly as he rested his forehead against hers, still holding her in his hands.

She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. “I need to go.”

“Then tell me you don’t love me, Emilia.”

“I’ll never tell you that, Ville.”

“Then what is the problem?”

A loud ring echoed through the empty streets, its source being Ville’s pocket. He groaned and reached into his pocket to shut his cell phone off – or break it, whichever came first. As soon as Emilia was released from his grasp, she took a few measured paces away from him. As he shut the phone off, he caught sight of the number flashing across it and made a mental note that he’d need to plan a trip to West Chester soon so that he could murder a certain skateboarding friend of his.

“I can’t lose myself over you again, Ville,” she said softly as he shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“How would letting yourself love me cause you to lose yourself?” He took a few steps toward her and she backed away.

She sighed. “When you stopped talking to me I fell apart. Obviously, I was pissed once I realized what you’d done and I held onto that anger for a while, but once that anger started to fade into the sadness of not having you – it was awful. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t even cry about it. I was nothing and no one and I can’t be that again.”

“You know I’d never hurt you, Em. Not again, not on purpose.”

“That’s just it. It wouldn’t be on purpose. You wouldn’t even know you were doing it. Just one day, you not being there would be too much to handle.”

“So it’s my band or you? Because I’d pick you every time.”

She denied his words with a shake of her head. “No, I’d never make you choose. Your music is who you are and it would be the worst thing that I could think of to take it from you.”

He felt desperate. He wanted her to understand that they could work, that all she needed to do was to try and to believe.

“Emilia, please just give this a chance.”

He watched as she pursed her pale lips and hoped that her silence meant that she was contemplating his words. If she’d only understood how much she meant to him then surely…

“I’m going to go home, Ville. I’ll see you Friday for the show.”

He opened his mouth to protest and she silenced him by laying a finger across his lips. “Just let me go, please. I just need some time to myself right now.”

“Consider it.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

She took a moment and searched his green eyes before she nodded once. The tension he hadn’t realized he’d been building had released like a rubber band and he almost couldn’t catch his breath.

As she walked away his heart felt like a rock in his chest. He just couldn’t understand why she didn’t see how much she meant to him. Had he done such irreparable damage when he’d gone away the first time? He couldn’t fathom the idea of spending his life without her. Through all the other women that had been in and out of his life, he’d pined for her in the worst way. To have gone through that for her to deny him now…well, it just didn’t feel like it was survivable.