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tumblr post explaining the songs and the reason for their position
Harry, July 2012
It’s a Thursday afternoon when you get the email you’ve been waiting for. The one that will change your life, for better or for worse you’re not quite sure yet. It’s been a quiet week so far, a few open and shut cases, but you’ve all spent most of the week glued to your desks, catching up on the mountains of paperwork that threaten to break your desks in two. You dart your eyes around the office quickly, ensuring Nikki and Leo are both engrossed in their work. You can’t risk them finding out by catching a glance of your screen as you read an email. Not after how Nikki reacted last time. This is one conversation you’re not looking forward to having.
You scan the email as quickly as you can, your stomach dropping when they land on one word: ‘Congratulations’. Not the reaction you expected to have when you thought about getting this news. The job is yours. You’re moving to New York. Logging out and closing your emails quickly, you decide not to think about it for the rest of the day. They’d told you during the interview over Skype that if you were accepted you wouldn’t be starting until the autumn, at the start of the new school year. It’s only July, you’ve got plenty of time to think about it.
The end of the day comes quicker than you expect it to, and before you know it you’re holding Nikki’s handbag while she slips into her coat, mumbling something about which takeaway you’re going to pick up on your way home. You don’t remember being invited over to her place tonight, but you won’t complain, these nights you often end up spending together have an expiration date now.
You’d argued for a good 10 minutes about what to get, sitting in your car in the car park of the Lyell, before eventually settling on an Indian. Your favorite. The night goes like it does every other time you’ve gotten a takeaway together. You sit on the floor of her living room, the food spread out on the coffee table, with your legs intertwined below, and one of her playlists playing low in the background. She’s chosen a Taylor Swift playlist tonight, and some of the lyrics in the songs playing hit a little too close to home. Not that she realises how or why… yet, anyway.
Conversation flows easily between you, no mention of work the entire night. It’s easy, and it’s light, and it almost makes you second guess your decision to leave. Almost. You can’t keep playing these games with her, you can’t keep up this dance any longer, hoping for a sign that she’s ready for you. For everything.
Your mood shifts, and she must notice instantly, because before you know it she’s sliding her still half full plate of food onto the coffee table and moving round to sit beside you. She takes your plate, and puts it down next to hers. “Talk to me.” She grabs your hand and pulls it into her lap, moving into your side offering you comfort you don’t deserve. “You’ve not been yourself all afternoon.”
Letting out a deep sigh, you close your eyes and allow your head to drop back onto the sofa behind you, taking a moment to think. Can you bring yourself to ruin the good night you were having together? If not tonight, then you’ll end up ruining another. You dig your phone out of your pocket, and pull up the email you’d received earlier, hesitating slightly before handing the device over to her without a word.
She takes the phone and looks at you with confusion etched into her features. With your nod of encouragement, she begins to read. You hold your breath, waiting for the moment she realises what this is, what you’re trying to tell her. The look that crosses her face hurts more than you expected it to. She hands you back your phone, and stands up, beginning to pace in the open space in the doorway, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.
“Nikki?” You stand up and move to stand in her path, putting a stop to her pacing. “Say something, anything. Please.”
That’s when she turns a cold glare at you, one you had seen before and hoped you’d never be on the receiving end of. “Like what!? Congratulations? I’m going to miss you?” She scoffs and shakes her head. “Why?”
It’s not a question you’re sure you can answer fully, but you know she won’t rest until you do. “Because I have to.” Those words are on the tip of your tongue, itching to come out. It’s not the right moment to tell her, but has there ever been a right moment? There certainly won’t be in the future. “Because I’m in love with you, and I can’t keep playing this game any more. I can’t stay here, hoping that one day you’ll give me some kind of sign that you’re ready for us to cross that line. I need to try move on, and I know I won’t be able to do that here. So when they emailed me offering me an interview a month ago, I accepted it, instead of deleting it straight away like I normally do with these kinds of emails.”
She takes a step closer to you. “So now you’re giving me an ultimatum? ‘Be with me or I’m leaving’, is that it?”
You throw your head back and turn away from her, frustrated. “No, Nikki. I would never do that to you. I just-”
“You just what?” She screams back you. A moment passes, and you’re both unsure what to say next. “You’re just giving up, after everything we’ve been through.” And that’s when the tears come. That’s when she collapses to the ground, and you step forward to catch her, lowering you both to the floor. “I thought I meant something to you? I thought we-”
“I know. I know.” She’s cradled in your arms, your hand running through her hair in what you hope is a comforting gesture.
It’s not long before she’s pushing you away, fighting your embrace. You loosen your hold on her and - though it pains you to do so - you let her go. “Get out.” It’s your turn to look at her with confusion. “Go! I can’t look at you right now.”
Nikki, July 2012
You’re still curled on the floor when you hear the door click shut behind him. You feel numb. You feel worse now, than you did last year when Leo told you he’d been killed in Budapest. You didn’t think it was possible to feel worse than you did then. Trust him to prove you wrong.
It’s several hours later when you peel yourself off the floor, and no matter how much you hate him for what he’s doing, you still crave nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms. Because he’s the only one who’s ever been able to make you feel better when you’ve felt the way you currently do. You’re going to have to figure out a way to cope without him, you’re beginning to realise, but maybe just this one last time it’s okay to turn to him for help. It is his fault you’re feeling his way after all.
The journey to his flat passes in a blur, and you just hope he did return here when you kicked him out, and he didn’t go to a bar or somewhere instead. When you pull up outside, there’s a dull glow from the window in his living room that gives you hope, and it’s with tentative movements that you step out of your car, and make your way up the path to his front door. It takes him a while to answer your knock, but you’re prepared to wait out here all night for him if you have to. He lets you in without a word when he finally opens the door, and you step over the threshold with a muttered “Thanks.”
You follow him wordlessly into his living room, standing awkwardly for a few moments. “I’m sorry.” You both go to speak at the same time. He tries to continue, to explain maybe, you’re not sure. You don’t give him the chance to speak. “No, let me.” He nods once, unable to say no to you. “I shouldn’t have gone off the way I did earlier. It was just a shock, I mean… I thought…” You shake your head, not sure how to put your feelings into words.
“You thought we were going somewhere. You thought our time was approaching.” He’s found the words for you. “I know, I did too. But I need you to let me go, Nikki. Please”
“We missed our chance, didn’t we?” Your voice breaks as you force out the words.
“Yeah.” He nods slightly, as he pulls you into his embrace.
You stand there clutching onto him with everything you have for a moment, drawing all the comfort he’s offering you. “This doesn’t have to be the end though.”
He sighs. “Nikki, I can’t. We can’t.”
“No, I don’t mean a relationship.” You pull back slightly, so you can look him in the eye. “I know the time for that has passed. I meant our friendship. We’ll still talk, right? We’re not going to just never speak again, and forget each other existed.”
The look on his face breaks you more than you thought was possible. “I don’t know.”
“Harry, please.” You beg. “We’ve always been best friends first, before everything. I can’t lose that. I can’t lose you completely.”
“Maybe one day, we can get back to that, but I need a clean break to begin with.” The look on his face tells you this is breaking him, just as much as it is you.
There’s several moments of silence, the two of you just stood basking in each others presence, now knowing your time together is limited. “When do you leave?”
It takes him a moment to answer. “Not until the end of summer. I start at the beginning of the new school year in the autumn.”
You nod once, sniffing back the tears threatening to fall. “Then we’re going to make the most of the time we have left together.”
And you do. You spend every moment you have together. He puts his flat up for sale, and moves back in with you when it sells almost straight away. He makes a comment one day about how you’re going to be glad to see the back of him when he leaves, now that you’re spending every second of every day together. But you know you could live with him like this for the rest of your life and never get tired of him. You tell him as much, and he just scoffs in response.
It’s the best few months you’ve ever had, and when the time comes for him to pack up his belongings and for you to drive him to the airport, the happy bubble you’ve both been living in since he told you his news, shatters violently around you. Neither of you speak much that day, only speaking when necessary. You both know that if you ask him to stay, he will. But you also both know that’s not a good idea. That this is something that needs to happen.
You do well at not breaking down that day, somehow managing to keep the tears at bay. That is until you step out of the car, and he pulls you into his embrace, his lips pressing against yours in a way you thought they never would. You know this is wrong, you know you should pull away and put a stop to it, but you can’t. Your lips move against his slowly, passionately, and you pour every inch of love you have for him into your kiss. It’s only when you’re both desperate for breath that you part, both breathing heavily.
“Sorry.” He apologises. “I know I shouldn’t have done that, I just-”
“I know.” You interrupt. “Me too.”
Nikki, May 2013
There’s been little contact between you since he left, as he’d requested. It’s not been easy, impossible at times, but you’ve had Leo to get you through the difficult moments. He doesn’t bring you the same level of comfort as Harry used to, but you’re not sure anyone ever will. There’s been Jack and Clarissa too, of course, but they’re new faces in your life. It’s going to take a little time before you’re ready to open up to them, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to do so completely. With the way things ended with Harry, it’s not a risk you’re sure you’ll ever be able to take again.
The news you have for Harry right now, isn’t something you feel comfortable sending him via email, but you can’t quite bring yourself to pick up the phone to tell him. Jack had offered to do it for you, but you’d declined. Telling Harry that Leo had been killed is something he needs to hear from you.
You hesitate all day over sending him the email you’d so carefully written the night before, eventually finding the courage later that night to delete it and pick up the phone instead. It’s almost midnight for you, and you know he’s calculated the time difference already and is worried about what has you calling so late in the middle of the week. It takes time to get out what you have to say, and you’re not sure he understands your broken sentences through your tears and sobs. But if there’s one thing he’s always been good at, it’s understanding you. Just like you’ve always been good at understanding him. It’s why his broken: “Oh god, Nikki.” tells you everything you need to know. He’s sorry. He can’t believe it. He won’t be coming back for the funeral. “It’s exam season.” He tries to explain. And you understand, you do - he’s built a life there now, he has responsibilities he can’t fall back on - but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less.
You expected this to be a short conversation, but it’s now 2am and you’re still on the phone to him. You dread to think what your phone bill is going to be at the end of the month. It’s the most you’ve spoken to him in months, and you didn’t realise just how much you’ve missed him until now. You talk about Leo, sharing memories and stories from over the years with each other. You talk about your new colleagues; you about Jack and Clarissa, and him about the other professors in his department. You talk about you. About how you felt (still feel), about how you wished things were different, about how much you miss each other. He tells you that while the distance between you has helped him heal, he misses you too much, and he needs you in his life in one way or another. You’re not sure that what he’s asking will help you, especially with him now living so far away, but with Leo now gone you feel utterly alone and besides, you never have been able to deny him anything.
Communication between you going forward is hesitant at first, neither of you sure any longer where the boundaries between you are, but it doesn’t take you long before you’re back to normal - almost. You find a new normal. He’s no longer the first person you call, the time difference doesn’t allow him to be, but you make sure to video call at least once a week. Sundays at 1pm (8am for him); he has breakfast, while you have lunch. And it’s not the same, it never will be, but it’s okay. Good, even. You’re friends again, working your way back to best friends. And you’re happy… ish. As happy as you can be without him by your side every day.