I'm saying screw it and time-hopping an entire day so we can have our moment while I still have some emotional investment in it XD))

Katrina wrapped her arms around her thin frame, shaking like a leaf as she stared at the wall, her eyes long-adjusted to the obscure haze of darkness that had settled over the room hours ago.

12:07. She'd been laying there for two hours, and wasn't any less anxious or terrified than she had been when she'd first settled there. Her hair was still wet from the shower she'd taken, making it impossible to tell whether her sheets were damp from her nervous sweat or from her hair. She was curled in a ball of hopeless desperation, shaking violently, her eyes pryed open for fear of what she'd see when she shut them. She was frantic and jumped at every noise that came from outside, no matter how explainable.

She'd always thought that when and if she reunited with Scott, it'd solve all of her problems. But all of the words still unsaid, invisibly visible as the humidity in the summer night air, were still just that: unsaid. All of the feelings, maybe they were gone, maybe they were put on hold. It had been an emotionally draining day just going through the motions, pretending to feel normal inside working alongside him. Worst of all, he didn't even seem fazed. Yet, she wasn't ready to give up hope.

Finding her way out of the dorm and across the lawn in a barefoot scurry, she gave three whole-hearted knocks before the regret and hesitation could convince her to tell her heart no. She had to at least try and clear this up, if not for his sake, for hers. It was pretty obvious he didn't feel it the way she did, but she still wanted to get it off her chest, regardless of how little she thought he'd felt for her.

Scott sat on his bed in his dimly lit dorm with a beer in his hand. Despite how much he drank it (along with a few stronger liquids), he absolutly loathed the taste. He winced as he took another swig. Unfortunately, it was the only substance that gave him even a dash of "happiness", so he drank it. Trying desperately to calm his anxious mind.

He leaned back against the wall and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. Probably time for a hair cut. He thought, taking another drink from the bottle. Scott tried to focus his thoughts on one thing but could not. They were all jumbled together and scrambling at an ever increasing rate. The ever present ghost of the girl he had so dearly loved haunted him. Was it even love or was it just infatuation? He had never felt like this towards anyone. The way his heart fluttered and his face went hot everytime he even caught a glimpse of her...

Scott stood up and walked into the bathroom and flicked the light on. He looked into the mirror and groaned. Need to shave too. He thought as he studied his chin. It wasn't short scruff anymore. It would be well on its way to becoming a full beard if Scott actually took the time to trim it and take care of it. "But when is that ever gonna happen." he said aloud.

Scott was about to leave the bathroom when he heard a knock on the door. Who on earth would want to see pathetic old me. He thought. Before going to the door, he checked his clock. "At 12:10??" He exclaimed in a hushed voice. Scott groaned as he walked to the door. "They better have a d*** good excuse for this." Scott grumbled. He looked through the peep hole and stopped. His mouth dropped open. Katrina??! Scott immediatly took a big ole swig from the bottle again and stepped away from the door. Why is she here? What does she want? Is she sad and lonely like me? No I dont think so she was pretty normal today. Is she going to apologize for completely shattering me and putting me in the state Im in?? No, she doesn't even know about this! Pull yourself together Scotty!! He thought frantically. He was terrified, no, mortified to open that door. Scott looked around his dorm. He cursed under his breathe. There were empty bottles pretty much everywhere and the place was an absoulute mess. Well, that was normal. Even when he lived at Moonlit. I can't just leave her out there! He thought. Man up and open the darn door!

After a few short moments of panicking, Scott finally opened the door. "K-Katrina" He said, his voice giving a terrible crack. Scott nearly visably cringed.

When Katrina was met face-to-face with the man, the confidence and drive to fix something that had long been shattered into millions of pieces had been completely ripped away from her, leaving her just as helplessly bewildered as him. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or, maybe the right place at the right time? She was so beyond tired that her thoughts were hardly coherent, hardly able to be thought.

Her warm brown eyes flicked from his pretty blue ones into his room, and she noticed how in disarray everything was. She couldn't help but notice the alcohol. Or, the lack thereof. Had she really not noticed the signs when they worked together at Moonlit? Had he had a drinking problem this whole time?

When he broke the silence, she felt like the tension in the room deserved to be cut with a knife. Yet, both of them were blindly searching for words they'd said so many times in their heads, they almost seemed out of reach now, put aside with the changing season. At least, Katrina had. Actually, it was the doubts in her mind that were now surfacing. Was she in love with him, like she recalled? Or, was she in love with the idea of being in love--in love with the idea of finding someone she couldn't run from? Did she just want to fix it? Was it guilt or inescapable feelings that had brought her to the door?

"Scott," she mustered, trembling slightly. She hoped as much as anything that he couldn't see that. Or, if he could, that he'd pass it off as a chill in the air.

"I--I...I'm sorry to show up at your door like this, I--didn't mean to wake you." Though, once again, she smelt a very pungent odor of alcohol coming off him, making her more suspicious. "This went better in my head," she muttered, her 'I'm nervous so I'm actually talking for once' mode activated and in full effect.

"Can I come in? Or, can you come out? I feel like we need to talk about what happened. I can't work with you every single day and act like I'm fine, like we're fine." She spit the part about their past out very quickly and in a flustered tone, her hand rising up to touch her cheek as if it would fix the bright red hue that was overlapping her normal olive hue. She was too obvious about her uncomfort in dealing with him, but had never remembered it being this bad before she'd left. The only thing she could think about at that moment was that it was going the absolute worst it could have possibly gone, unless there was a girl in his room with him. Oh god, was there?

Scott stood there like a big child. He had completely forgotten to put down the almost empty bottle and was currently trying to hide it behind his leg. He was ashamed because this was a side of him that he never wanted anyone to see, especially Katrina.

"I.. uh.. well, I guess it depends on if you want this conversation to be heard." Scott answered. In reality, he knew it would be better to go in the room but he did not want Katrina to see what his life had come to. There was no doubt that she could smell it but he still didn't want her to see it.

Oh god he hated this. He looked like a fool. He did not want her in his room. All the guilt from letting himself sink this low was getting to him. It was almost uncontrolable. His breath started to come in small shaky gasps as a depressive wave hit him full force. Scott was trying his best to keep calm but every part of him wanted to break down and cry. No. He thought. I can't do that. Not here, not now. C'mon, pull yourself together Scotty.

(Sorry if this is all jumbled and doesn't make sense hehe Im just trying to get a reply in xS

Katrina watched his demeanor change before her very eyes, his brokenness drawing out her own. At first she was surprised--his eyes had held warmth all day, his smile had felt real. But when his exterior literally crumbled before her, she realized for the first time that he had been as hurt as she had by what she'd done, and he hadn't been any more healed by time than she had. Time was supposed to heal all wounds, but this one was just as fresh as it had been in the first hours she broke down crying on the highway, her body wracked with sobs. She was a slave to fear, always had been, and she still didn't know how to stop.

"Oh, Scott," her words came out in a breathy whisper, her cheeks lined by streams of silent tears. Her warm brown eyes pleaded with his, don't let me leave you again. Don't let me push you out. I need you. And, without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his chest. She hated physical contact, but, for once, it instinctively hit her. She needed it as much as he did.

She held him in the doorway for what felt like forever, especially to her, breathing in his scent and the strong odor of alcohol that seemed to be unanimously coming from both him and the room. It was better than the scentless, lifeless, colorless room she was supposed to be in at that moment, though. She dreaded going back there with everything she had. She couldn't bring herself to do it, the isolation haunted her.

As it hit her that he probably wouldn't remember any of this in the morning, she whispered shakily, her heart pounding, "leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."