What was she doing here? The question ran through her head for possibly the millionth time in a row. What was she doing in general? Why had she run? Why was she such a fuck up? The questions caused her to drum her fingers against the wheel of her car, tapping her foot. Thankfully, the car was off and she was sitting near a house, ready to walk in. Well, she had been for the past thirty minutes.
Vie felt like a contradiction to herself. She loved Zane, was in love with him, couldn’t survive without him, and he loved her too so there shouldn’t be a problem. Things were good between them, things were fine. For some odd reason he put up with her crazy self and she was content and happy with him. Yet, she freaked.
Not a minor freak, a freak as in he asked her to marry him and she sneak away without giving an answer because giving an answer was terrifying and she honestly felt like the answer was no because marriage was just blah. It complicated things. Made things more difficult. She was just getting used to this relationship idea, the idea where the relationship was based on mutual care and respect, and many more mutual things. Not based on safety and looks.
Her only monogamous relationship before Zane had been Levi. That had nothing to do with love, and had everything to do with he found her attractive and she found herself safe and not alone with him. Well, hypothetically safe as that hadn’t worked out in her favor, but regardless the point had stood that it hadn’t been for the reasons she was in a relationship now.
That made her wonder if she could do monogamous. She hadn’t in the stretch between Levi and Zane. The closest she had come had been Thomas, and that was only few times in between and more due to her laziness and content with having someone who could match her than feeling a need to single down. So the idea of there never being an out terrified her.
A logical side of her brain kicked in and said there was divorce, and the idea made her actually laugh out loud. She didn’t do divorce, it wasn’t an option. If she was going to be crazy enough to marry someone, under no circumstances was divorce going to be on the table. She would know them well enough to know she could handle doing the most crazy thing she had done in her life, and nothing would change that thought. Not anything, not even if she somehow magically got pregnant, which wasn’t possible thanks to her youth time idioticy, although that was probably a good thing the more she thought about it.
She did love Zane. She was in love with him. But marrying someone was a big promise. It is a till death does your part, and for their world that could be tomorrow or it could be a very very long time from now. She was finally put in the position she was terrified of, and Zane probably hadn’t even realized he’d pushed her to it. She either made the rush decision to marry him, or she lost him. She either gave up a part of herself she promised she never would, or he was gone. She made a promise after she left Levi that engagement, marriage, wasn’t going to happen. That boys were just sent to screw you over and they would leave you high and drive. That got amended to they were good for sex after, but long term permanent commitment?
Maybe she could convince him, if she did agree, to allow for amendments. They could have rules that go against normal marriage rules! It sounded like a great idea, but then it also sounded horrible. She just didn’t like this. Zane was hers, and she never had to figure it out before. She didn’t need labels. He was in her life, and if they wanted to change the nature that was fine. They did, they adjusted, there was romance and mush and sex. So why did that need a label? She’d gone with it, it was important to him. Now marriage? What would change? What if she didn’t like those changes? What if nothing changed, but then what was the point?
She got out of the car and walked up to the door, pounding on it. She knew who was there. In the time that she’d been there she’d bothered to text both the other tenants and ensure neither of them were home. So it wasn’t a surprise when who answered the door was the one who answered the door. She didn’t give him a chance to speak, to call her out on sitting out there so long, none of it. “I’ve very torn between telling you there’s a semi problem and begging you to run away with me for a weekend, or begging you to not ask me about it and pretend that nothing happens in the next twenty-fours hours ever actually happened. One is more responsible, even if just slightly. So, run away for a weekend with me? Please? I’ll look pathetic and pout until you agree.”