Truth or Lie (Part Twenty-Seven)
A/N: You guys getting nervous yet?
Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader
Warnings: Angst, anxiety, flashbacks, light injuries, fluff, teasing
Word Count: 2665
You were starting to get worried. Yes, it did take some time for college acceptance letters to get sent, but you were deep in December, and you hadn’t heard a peep. Maybe you’d never get anything back. Maybe you got your hopes up. You dragged your fingers through your hair, letting your fingertips sift through the strands as you huddled in the corner of Rob’s couch. Around two weeks had passed since the Australia conventions. You and Rob were getting on better than ever, falling into a rhythm with each other, keeping busy as Christmas approached. You had to keep busy or you’d fall prey to your own mind, which had a tendency of trying to rip apart any happy possibility you strived for.
What if you didn’t get accepted? What if you became stuck? You had worked so hard to push yourself forward, to try to move on and live your life. What if you were just never meant to move on? What if your past was all you were? You rubbed your temples, eyes squeezing shut as you sunk back into the cushion, wanting it to swallow you whole. You just wanted to be the person that you wanted to be. You wanted to control your life, to retake your strings from your past’s grip. You were no longer a mindless pawn in a game you never signed up for. You were … what? You couldn’t exactly answer that yet, but you were no longer her. That was satisfying enough.
You were pulled from your thoughts, dragged out of your head, when the front door opened and closed, shuffling sounding from the foyer.
“Don’t look!” Rob’s voice echoed into the living room, prompting you to turn onto your side, facing away from him as he carried bags toward the stairs. He darted up the steps, plastic bags rustling loudly as he went to hide the gifts he had insisted on buying you for Christmas.
You ended up staying curled up in the position, mind drifting as silence once again settled in the house. What if you were just never meant to move on? Your eyes moved to the side toward the direction of the staircase, darkness leaking into your thoughts, tainting the happy mood you had reveled in for awhile now. What if he was something unachievable? What if this was just a tease, a taste of what you could never actually have and keep? Would he be ripped away from you? If he was, would you even survive that? Would you break apart, his stitches that kept you together no longer interwoven into that broken soul of yours?
“Alright, you’re good. Wanna watch a movie? Babe?”
You ignored his words, refusing to meet his eyes, afraid of falling into their depths, of loving him even more than you already did. God, how bad it would hurt if you lost him. No wonder you never got close to anyone in your past. It was a guarantee they’d become a target, and you couldn’t bear to take the pain of those consequences.