"I'm selling the apartment," Dash announced, breaking the silence that had settled between her and Kane.

He turned away from the coffee maker and focused his attention on the girl sitting at the island. "What? But Dash, you love this apartment," he managed to choke out. He remembered the very day that she and Sam had gone out apartment hunting almost three years ago. Dash had been texting Kane the entire day, complaining to him that none of the apartments that they had seen were right for the couple. The apartment that they were currently standing in had been the last viewing of the day. The couple hadn't made it past the first floor before announcing that it was perfect. They had signed the papers that very day.

Dash shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You guess so!" Kane exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up. "Dude, what's going on? We both know that you picked this apartment because it was perfect for you."

Dash let out a small sigh, keeping her gaze focused on the uneaten eggs laying on the plate in front of her. She should've realized that Kane would've questioned her decision to sell the apartment. It was moments like this that Dash found herself wishing that her friends were less invested in her life. "I guess I just need a change."

Kane placed his half full coffee cup on the counter, before walking over to the island and sitting across from his best friend. He took her fork from her hands and popped a piece of egg in his mouth. "Why don't you - for once in your life - tell me what's actually going on, Dash?"

She kept her gaze focused on the plate in front of her as Kane continued to pick at her uneaten breakfast, waiting for her reply. She was going to sound foolish if she told him the real reason behind her wanting to sell the apartment. Kane would think that she was weak for being unable to stay in the apartment anymore. So instead of swallowing her pride and coming clean to her best friend, Dash responded in a hard voice, "just let it go, Kane. I'm selling the apartment and that's it. A realtor will be by on Saturday to take a look at this place so we can take the next step in selling. I only mentioned it to you because I was wondering if you'd watch the dogs that day." Pushing her stool away from the island, Dash went to the fridge and pulled out an energy drink. "You can have that, by the way." She nodded at the breakfast Kane had cooked for her. "I'm not hungry." And with that, she left the kitchen, heading upstairs to her bedroom.

She closed the door behind her and crossed the short distance to her bed, flopping down on it noisily and tossing the unopened drink next to her. She felt bad for snapping at Kane the way she did. He already looked her like she was a fragile china cup, teetering on the edge of a shelf, ready to fall and break at any moment. Dash knew that if she had told him her reasoning behind the sale, that he would only pity her more, which was the last thing she wanted.

To put it simply, he was everywhere. In every room, on every surface, Sam was there. They had spent the better part of three years together in that building and she had memories of him in every single inch of that apartment. Dash couldn't walk down the halls without being reminded of days that he had chased her around, threatening to tickle her to death, or of nights that he had pushed her body up against the walls with his own, his hands roaming her. He haunted the rooms in the building and though Dash's heart broke at the thought of never being with Sam again, she knew that the first step in forgetting him would be to rid herself of everything physical that reminded her of Sam. And so she was selling the home they shared.

Barely five minutes had passed before there was a soft whine from outside the room, followed by the sound of nails being scratched across the wooden door. Unable to stop a smile from forming, Dash immediately sat up, walking over to open the door. The moment the door swung open, in stormed two dogs: a large German Shephard and a tiny Pomeranian. The smaller dog yapped before jumping onto the bed and laying down, while the other simply sat on the floor at the end of the bed, looking up at his owner.

Dash laughed before gesturing to the bed. "Go on, Maxie." Without hesitation, the large dog followed the suit of the smaller pup, hopping on the bed and making himself comfortable. Dash crawled onto the bed next to Max, nestling her face in his back. Not one to be ignored, the Pomeranian barked at his owner, nipping her shirt in his teeth before curling up on Maxwell's outstretched front paws. She chuckled at the jealous dog. "Never one to be outdone, are you, Bean?"

The small dog responded with a yawn before closing his eyes.

Dash smiled as she watched the two dogs laying beside her. She had gotten Maxwell as a puppy. He was a high school graduation present from her cousin, Baz, who had gotten her the dog with the intent of it being a watchdog for her after she moved out of her parents' home.

However, once Dash had moved out on her own, it became apparent that Maxwell was not cut out to be a guard dog. That was when Dash had dragged Sam along to the shelter to help her choose a friend for Max, who would hopefully be a much better security system.

Though she had entered the shelter with the intent of leaving with another big dog, the moment that Dash had laid eyes on the tiny Pomeranian, she knew that she had to take Bean home with her. Sam so often told her that Bean was Dash in canine form - a spitfire personality in a tiny frame.

Dash sighed, rubbing her hand along Max's back. There he was again in her thoughts: Sam.

She couldn't help but wonder about him. So often during the day, Dash found herself wondering if she should call him, just to make sure he was getting along okay. She wondered if he missed her like she missed him, if he regretted ending things the way he did or saying everything that he had the last time they had seen each other the night after she had gotten home from tour.
×××
Dash jiggled her key in the lock of her apartment, her purse hanging from her arm. She opened the door, sticking her head in as walked in. "Sam?" she called out.

"I'm in the kitchen!"

She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. Dash had called Sam the moment she had calmed herself down at the airport. He had refused to say anything over the phone, insisting that she come by the apartment after she had gotten some sleep.

Dash walked slowly into the kitchen, laying her purse on the island in the center of the room. The six foot, five inch brunette was sitting at the table, his tan hands folded in front of him. Sam looked up at her from his seat, meeting her green eyes with his own dark brown ones. He gave her a small smile. "Hi."

On the drive over to the apartment, Dash had been planning what she would say to Sam when she saw him. She told herself to be calm, to let him explain himself, to listen to what he had to say. She told herself to be mature, but standing there in front of Sam, she forgot everything that she had told herself. "What the hell, Sam?" she replied, her voice soft. "What the hell is this about?"

"Dash," Sam started, standing up and making his way over to her, his eyes pleading for her to understand.

"No," she interrupted. "You had your say on the phone - in a voice mail, no less. Jesus, Sam, we've been together for five years! Five years! Est-ce que cela signifie rien pour vous? Do I mean anything to you? How could you do this to me?"

Dash squeezed her eyes shut in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the tears from falling. However, the moment a droplet slipped down her smooth cheek, Sam crossed the kitchen, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around the small girl.

"No, no, no. S'il vous plaît ne pleure pas, mon amour. Don't cry. You know that I can't stand to see you cry."

Dash's body stiffened as Sam's arms enveloped her and he spoke into her hair. "Don't," she murmured, pulling herself out of his grip. Her voice amplified as she turned her gaze onto her ex-boyfriend. "You don't get to do that anymore. You don't get to hold me or comfort me anymore. You made sure of that." She wiped away the stray tear falling down her cheek. "But I need to know: why? Why would you do this to me, Sam? Why stick around for two whole years while I toured and did the music thing? Why would you wait so long and give me hope that we could do this, that we could be together?"

Sam sighed heavily, rubbing his hands over his face. He had not expected the conversation to go like this. Though he knew Dash had a tempter that was quick to ignite, it had never been focused on him. Never. She was always so controlled with her emotions around him; he knew that the last thing that she wanted was for those close to her to see her as weak or unstable. He turned to the short girl, taking a step closer to her. "It was because I loved you," he finally said, after a moment of silence. "God, I still love you. And if I thought that you needed me for anything, I'd stay. But you don't. You don't need me anymore, Dash. You've got this amazing life with your friends and your fans. The last thing that you need is me holding you back-"

"No." Dash interrupted, looking up at Sam, her eyes blazing with a look that he had never seen before. "Don't you dare use my job as an excuse for you to leave. If I really make you that unhappy Sam then don't do me any favors and stick around for me." Her chest rose and fell heavily with every breath she took.

A silence settled between the couple as they stared at each other, neither of them daring to break eye contact. When Dash finally spoke again, her voice was soft. "I will always need you, Sam. I love you. I always have and I always will. But for you to do this to me," she shook her head, "it's just not fair."

"I can't do this anymore, Dash," Sam murmured, his voice pleading with her to understand. "And you have no idea how hard it is to say goodbye to you every time you leave." Dash opened her mouth to interject, but Sam quickly cut her off. "I know that you miss me too. But when you're gone, it's always: go, go, go! Vite, vite, vite! You don't have time to miss me. But being here - alone - and trying to go through the motions day-by-day without you... It's horrible, Dash. I miss you so much."

"That doesn't make any sense. If you miss me so much when I'm gone for a few months, then why leave me permanently?"

"Because," he murmured, lifting a hand to her cheek. "I would rather live without you then have to constantly say goodbye to you."

Sam leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dash's tear-stained cheek before walking past her, picking up his jacket from the stair bannister.

"Where are you going?" Dash asked, her voice faltering as she turned around and focused her gaze on Sam.

He shrugged, looking around. "The apartment's yours, Dash. My mother's friend offered me a job at his company in Ottawa. And I'm going to take it. I move out there next week."

Dash's eyes widened and her right hand quickly found itself squeezing her left wrist. "So this is it? You're leaving. And we're actually over?"

"Désolé, Dash. I really am sorry," he whispered. "Au revoiur, ma chére." Sam left the apartment, closing the front door behind him.

Dash was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

It was as this fact dawned on her, that Dash McCafferty sunk to her knees in the middle of her kitchen, tears cascading from her green eyes. A sob tore through her body and she pressed her heel of her hand into her forehead. Sam was gone.

And she was alone.

Notes

& if you have to leave
i wish that you would just leave.
your presence still lingers here
& it won't leave
me alone.

What do you guys think of this so far? Is it moving too slowly for you? Are you impatiently waiting to see how Alex and the guys from All Time Low play into the story?