Peter had spent years throwing himself into business and his vices, ignoring anything that could be personally meaningful. Though not a cold man, Peter had locked his heart away somewhere even he couldn’t reach, and for a long time only spoke about work or with his family, though recently his family became off-limits as well. His parents blamed themselves for the person he’d become, and were constantly throwing business cards for therapists and rehab facilities at him. After making him hide his true self for years, he thought they’d consider finally accepting him for who he was. Instead they were more ashamed of him than ever, and eventually he cut them off without so much as blinking.
Despite his growing lack of care for the world and love of isolation, there were some events that even Peter felt obligated to attended. Milestone birthdays were one such occasion, and that was where present Peter had found himself. The birthday boy was a close friend of his from back in the day, and while contact as sporadic as could be these days, Peter couldn’t miss such a large life event. He arrived early, wanting to get in as many of the free drinks as he could before too many old friends arrived. He knew Lola wasn’t on the guest list, and that probably made him want to drink more if anything.
On the one hand, he was grateful for her absence. It’d allow him to relax a little more instead of being on red alert for her face or hair in the crowd, and let him skip the conversations he’d spent years dreading for a little longer. Lola was just a reminder of everything that could’ve been and should’ve been in his life, and Peter refused to let his mind wander there anymore. On the other hand, Peter missed her desperately. It was as simple as that. Some remaining part of his mind knew nothing felt as good as being around her, even when nothing could feel worse all the same.
After a couple of hours chit-chatting with people who’s names he’d long forgotten since high school, Peter was considering calling it an early night. Too many people were coming to him with their Lola questions. They ranged from the simple “Where’s Lola tonight?” to the more complicated - “How did you guys reunite? You barely talked in senior year, and suddenly you’re posting selfies nearly every week half-way through college, then nothing?” “Wait, what do you mean you haven’t seen her for years?” The worst were the shippers, though - the people who screamed into his ear about how they “always thought you’d end up together in the end! I can’t believe it didn’t happen!”
One question, however, was unlike all the rest. It wasn’t even directed at him, only said within earshot by guys he’d hated during (and after) high school, but it grabbed his full attention. “Is that Lola Fields?”
Peter began scanning the room, struggling to focus on anything except finding Lola and keeping his anxiety down. He hadn’t mentally prepared for this, and being surprised with something so important while so drunk was basically torture. Despite his trepidation, Peter found himself growing disappointed with each passing brunette that wasn’t her in the crowd. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, he now knew which part of him won the ‘do we want to see Lola tonight?’ debate. He was worried that realization would be for nothing, but then he spotted her across the room, somehow more beautiful than ever.
Lola had always been special to Peter in ways he couldn’t quite verbalise. They were always more than friends or even lovers. He’d never told Lola outside of joking conversations, but Peter had always assumed they were soulmates. It didn’t make things any easier for them, obviously, though it at least helped him explain why he felt more drawn to her than anything else. Now was no exception. He began to walk towards her as soon as he realised she was doing the same, eventually meeting half-way with little more than their tension between them.
“Hey, Lollipop,” he greeted, the nickname rolling off his tongue as a smile invaded his expression. It seemed his instincts were taking over, and before he knew it Peter was embracing her tightly, long limbs tangling around her petite form. He was sure she’d feel his heart beating heavily against his chest. She might’ve even felt the way it slowed down once he breathed in her vaguely familiar scent. “Everybody told me you weren’t coming, but I’m really glad you did,” he whispered against her hair, brushing a kiss to her forehead as he reluctantly pulled away. “I, uh…I’ve been wondering about you a lot. I wanted to reach out all the time, but I just…What would I have even said? There’s nothing that -” He stopped, his gaze growing guilty. “I didn’t think there was anything I could’ve said that would change anything, and people told me you were happy and you’d moved on, so…” His tone was casual but there was a sense of pleading to it, begging Lola to understand that things were nowhere near where he had always wanted them to be. “How have you been?”
In her years of self-imposed isolation, Lola would be lying if she said she hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about Peter. Honestly, even before she had graduated from Monarch University, she had spent a lot of time thinking about Peter. He was something of a constant in her mind, even when his presence wasn’t in her life. For a long time, Lola had told herself that it was normal, that everyone spent most waking moments thinking about their first love – their first heartbreak. It was normal to search for his face in a crowd, even when she had no reason to expect to find him. It was normal to want to know how he was doing; to ponder where he was; to wonder if he had fallen in love again; to want to talk to him; to miss him; to love him.
After about a year of weekly therapy, her therapist had called her on her bullshit. If you keep living in denial, Lola, you’re never going to be happy.
Lola, who had practiced denial for years, had pretended that she didn’t understand what her therapist was talking about. It took another three months until she realised exactly what her therapist was saying. It was 3am and she should have been asleep hours ago, yet she found herself on Google, searching for Peter Harrington. There were a few photos, most of which seemed at least a couple of years old, but he still took her breath away. His face looked more solemn than she remembered and after staring intently for a few minutes, she realised it was because of his eyes. His eyes – which had always been lit up when he was around her, no matter the state of their relationship – were flat and listless. It was then that she realised what her therapist meant. It was Peter; it had always been Peter.
Although she struggled to admit it even to herself, the thought of maybe running into Peter again one day had been a contributing factor when she decided to move back to New York. She had been too afraid to orchestrate anything but there was constantly a little flicker of hope; that maybe fate would bring Peter back into her life. Now that fate had finally decided to intervene, she was terrified. Her hands were clammy, and her heart was pounding so loudly that it was threatening to beat out of her chest. As she moved towards Peter, it felt as if the entire room parted to make way for her; the noise quieting as the focus of her world narrowed to just one person.
“Harri”, she said, the word falling from her lips effortlessly, like it hadn’t been out of use for years. His arms were around her before she could say anything else and she sunk into the embrace, her own arms snaking around his waist and holding on tightly. As Peter slowly pulled away from the embrace, she stared up at him, her eyes embarrassingly damp. “I was told that you wouldn’t be here either”, she said softly, struggling to find the words as she looked at the person who had stolen her heart when they were both teenagers; the person who, without even knowing it, had carried her heart for all the years since. “I’ve been… well, I’ve come home”, Lola murmured, hoping that Peter would understand what she meant; that she had finally stopped running. There was so much she wanted to say but now she was standing in front of Peter, she didn’t even know where to begin. “I… I thought about reaching out too but I didn’t know how it would be received. How have you been though? The internet hasn’t told me much’, she admitted.
