“You’re sixteen! He’s twenty-three!”

“I know, but he loves me and I love him!”

“You know it will end—“

“Just leave me alone!” You screech before bursting out the front door in a full sprint.

You dodge past people and apologize through a muddled voice, your only goal is to get anywhere from that place, anywhere from the suffocation that’s constantly pressuring you.

You’ve had enough of people telling you that your relationship won’t work out with Henry. But inside, you know it won’t. You’re just holding on to whatever sliver of hope there may be that will let you and Henry prevail and have a happy future.

But even that thought sounds unrealistic.

Your feet have landed you at your favorite book store, one of those second-hand places in the back away from the bustling crowd. The owner is startled by the bell attached to the front door and automatically softens at the sight of your disheveled state. His eyes follow your figure as you stumble to the hidden back room and his ears make out the sound of dissonance of many piano keys being pressed down.

He sighs and lets you be.

-

-

“Babe?”

“Hey Henry,” you breathe into the speaker.

“You sound funny,” he says. “Is everything all right?” he questions, the alert rising in his voice.

“I’m fine, just tired. Don’t worry,” you smile.

“You know I’m always—“

“Here for me, yes, I know.”

“Good.” And you can just hear the smile in his voice and rub the patch of skin between your eyebrows in frustration—

“Are you there?” His voice breaks through.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Just kind of spaced out for a moment.”

“I’ll be over in a few minutes. But I have to leave in about ten after that for another schedule.”

“Don’t bother. That’s a lot of gas.”

Anything to not have him here. Not now.

“Anything for you.”

“No, really.”

“Something’s wrong. You’re not telling me something, ­­­­jagi.”

Please don’t call me that.

“Why not?”

. Did you say that out loud?

“__________, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m just really tired.”

“Open the door.”

You helplessly look in the direction of the front door and hang up before trudging over to let him in. “I told you—“

Your words die on your tongue as he holds your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing the dark circles under your eyes. He’s murmuring something under his breath, something you can’t make out, but his eyes are burning into your soul and you quickly shut your eyes. “Hey, look at me,” he gently pries, his calloused fingers sending sparks down your spine and tempting your eyes to open. In the end, you stop fighting and meet his gaze.

You detach his hands from your face and twirl in the opposite direction. “We need to stop this.”

“…Jagi?”

“Henry, stop!” Your voice trembles and breaks, your tears tearing apart the dam inside of you and flowing nonstop. “I’m not your jagi.”

A strong hand lands on your shoulders and turns your unwilling self around; his other hand grasps the other shoulder to prevent you from escaping the inevitable. “What’s gotten into you?” He nearly yells as he bends his knees to try to meet your eyes. 
“We can’t do this. We’re seven years apart and both know that this won’t last. So why prolong it?”

“You said we would get through this—“ His voice rises in anger.

“That was before we knew the whole reality of it all!” You scream, breaking off from his hold.

“Go!” You start to shove him towards the front door. “Go and live your life! Meet somebody else, have fun, forget about me! I have stuff to do; you have schedules to fulfill. Just go!” You continue to sob as your hand grasps the handle and twists it to open his gateway out of your life.

His strength, much greater than yours, slams the door shut and his hands grab your wrists before pulling you into a suffocating hug. He ignores the fists pounding against his back to let you go because he won’t. He never will. He can’t bring himself to.

Eventually, the force of your hits wane and you crumple into his lithe body, his arms tightening around you even more as he shifts the both of you to the couch.

“Everything will be okay,” he whispers sweetly into your ear. “We’ll get through this.”

“Okay,” you nod into his shoulder.

We will get through this, hand in hand.