Losing It (CLOSED)

WARNING:

The comforter was warm enough to make her want to stay in bed forever. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave or not. A part of her wanted to, because that would mean the evidence would be gone, the feelings would stay in Paris and so would Chasen. On the other side, it would mean she had to start over; make friends and find reasons to laugh and hear her mother crying at night when her father was only getting worse each day. Agnes was curled up inside the massive covers, she felt smaller than ever, much more insignificant than a puny ant. She wasn’t ready for this move, but even her Aunt said it was for the better. All in all, Ansel and her Aunt Stella were the only that knew what a big mistake she had done. They knew that she had fucked up massively, and that she had lost everything. They knew how big of an idiot she was.

Crawling out from under the covers, Agnes looked around her room. There wasn’t much of a difference from last year, the walls were still light blue and a big poster of one of her favorite singers hung on her wall. One wall was mostly occupied with a shelf that was more than half full but still needed books to fill it. A couple pieces of clothing lay on the floor, used the night before most likely. Sighing, she pushed the covers down and accidentally saw what she had been trying to ignore. There was a purple smudge on her thigh. Ever since Chasen left, she’d been through the most disgusting way of coping; she’d pinch herself every time she thought of him. Every time she dreamt of him, she would pinch her arms, or her stomach, or her legs. She wanted it to go away, she wanted to forget all of that, so ignore it and move on as if nothing had happened. But she couldn’t.

Because every time she passed by that restaurant, she remembered the first time she met him. She remembered his green eyes, and his curled hair, and his bright smile that seemed to never fade away from his face. Agnes sat on one of the tables outside, waiting for someone to take her order, surrounded by her girl friends. A boy walked up to them, with a smile that lit up every light in the city and eyes that resembled the pictures she’d seen in books about the amazon. He asked her what she wanted to eat, and she mumbled something she couldn’t remember now, but she remembered his chuckle. That was the moment that Agnes knew that if she ever married someone, it would be someone like him.

She came back a few days later with her family, and he took her order too. It was almost too simple to just stare at him all the time, but Ansel was visiting and it had always been strange to talk about boys with him. Nevertheless, he noticed. At the end of that family dinner, he came up to her as they were leaving and asked for her name. Agnes almost fell over and melted into liquid chocolate. She couldn’t remember what she said, because everything started when he asked her if she was free Friday night. Agnes was sure that she nodded, while Ansel watched from a few feet away, her parents already walking out to their car. He asked for her number, and because Agnes didn’t have a phone, he told her to meet him at the restaurant and he’d take her out from there. Ansel was more than welcome to chaperone if he wanted to, she remembered him saying.

The days went by so slowly, and when her date with Chasen finally arrived, she spent hours trying to figure out what to wear before settling on a midnight blue dress, sleeveless and almost reaching her knees, because she loved the fabric and the contrast of her skin tone with the rich color of the dress. That first date had been absolutely wonderful, even though most of it was willingly ignored by her memory and now fading, she remembered how she felt. She felt it every day they went out, every time he smiled, every time he held her hand. It was the best month of June she had ever had, and then she fell more in love with him.

Her fingers traced the feet of a saint she didn’t know, a saint who had lived all it’s life inside Notre Dame, and who watched over her as Chasen spoke. “There. Don’t move.” he said as he put the camera up to his face, looking through the viewfinder and releasing the shutter. “Beautiful.” he breathed, and Agnes felt her knees go weak and her cheeks grow warm; any feeling of worry she had before then had dissolved into pure happiness.

Agnes stood up, trying to shake the memories away. The coldness of the wooden floor against her bare feet made her shiver but she walked towards her closet to put some pants on. Sweats, she decided, were good for staying in her room and still be decent enough in case anyone walked in. Looking in the mirror, she saw her eyes were red and puffy, a sign that she had cried the night before but was too stupid now to remember it. Her hair fell straight down her back, lifeless as usual and too stubborn to let itself be curled or styled in any way.

Chasen’s curled hair tickled her neck as he kissed places that had always been reserved for the man who managed to put a ring on her finger. Agnes melted into his arms, taking in his scent of pineapple and musk, holding on to him like he was her last hope for everything. She had never thought of that moment, never thought it would happen eventually. When she was younger, she saw herself wearing a white ballgown and standing next to the man she loved, but she never thought of the physical part. Until now. She was sharing this intimate moment, something she had no idea how it even came to be, with a boy she loved more than anything.

Agnes had no idea when she started crying, but suddenly her vision was blurred and her face was too disgusting for her to look at. She moved away from the mirror, standing so close to her bed, and she hated herself more than anything. She didn’t hate Chasen, not him, because it had been her fault. She could have said no. But she didn’t.

He held her against his body, and Agnes felt small compared to him. Her long hair fell wildly against her bare back, and she struggled to breathe, as with every kiss Chasen placed on her body she lost sense of time and reality. Agnes had never felt as beautiful as she did then, because every time the words fell from his lips Agnes could feel it. Her heart raced, her mind yelled at her to think about what she was doing, but her hands searched for him desperately. Three weeks later, Chasen broke up with her. He cited school reasons and personal differences, along with the 2-year age difference between them as to why they had to break up. Agnes saw him a month later, when she was walking out from the d’Orsay with Alexandre, with his arms wrapped around a girl with pink hair.

Right then, she wanted to just apparate to Hogwarts, to start again and meet new people who wouldn’t turn out to be as much of a shit as Chasen was. The reality, though, was that she couldn’t apparate, and she couldn’t ask her mother to hurry up on the move as questions would be asked and she had been trying so hard to keep them inside of her that even an attempt to answer them would probably send her on a crying spree. The year she had been with Chasen, was the year she learned lots of things, and one of those was that she really couldn't trust herself.