Can you feel my heart (Arrow)

Being a child of Apollo, Fletcher had always enjoyed good music. Of course, he was more into the type that was soft, sweet, and slow, but he tried to keep an open mind. He had actually just been bored on that particular day when he'd decided to head to the ampitheater, hoping to enjoy a good concert and take a breather... after he finished his daily run.

Running was something that helped the male vent emotion and stress. He genuinely enjoyed any and all physical activity he could manage. He wasn't going to be able to stay golden into old age unless sustained his fitness for as long as possible, right? After the run was finished, Fletch had showered and changed into something that was a little more suitable for an outing. He got dressed in something that was preppy and comfortable; his all time favorite peach-colored shirt and one of his million pairs of khaki shorts. Jean shorts were for dads and dads only.

It was safe to say that Fletcher had took his sweet time walking to the ampitheater, but he could hear the music from fairly far away. It only got louder as he approached, but it certainly wasn't too loud for his tastes. The voice sounded eerily familiar, but the part of his memory that would have cued him as to who it was had long since buried all traces of those memories. With his hands stuck in his pockets, he arrived about halfway through the little show. His eyes landed upon someone who seemed very familiar.

The look on Fletcher's face when it dawned on him was one of confusion. How did she get here? Why was she here? How long had she been here? Why hadn't she told him? Why hadn't they seen each other? There were no negative emotions attached to the thoughts other than a tinge of sadness. Lingering toward the back of the crowd of campers until it thinned, the tall adolescent soon approached the stage, a sheepish smile on his face. Should he be doing this? Hell if he knew, he was scared to death. A sheepish wave accompanied the sheepish smile. He felt more awkward than he ever had before, but he didn't know if he should have. He knew her, right? Right?

Emotion swirled within the eighteen-year-olds mind; it was so strong he felt as if he needed to sit down. He was left in a state of confusion as Sydney ran to him, though he instinctively wrapped his arms around her like they had just seen each other yesterday. It was difficult to know what to feel, what to think; it was almost as if he didn't know how to move. Should he be excited? Interrogative? Angry? The last thing he was expecting was a question from the blonde herself, which just caused him to become even more tongue-tied. He was himself, he was here, she was here. Was it good, was it bad? He felt like he could write a song about it.

The second time Syd posed the question he nodded and gave a feeble smile. "Did you want it to be someone else?" The question was honest, though he didn't want an answer. He was scared and overwhelmed by the sudden burst of feeling. Why had she been so receptive to his reappearance but she hadn't cared to tell him why she was leaving? Reminiscing in the memory only made the russet-haired male feel abandoned yet again, but he really couldn't tell himself what to do.

Before he could align his thoughts, two words left Sydney's mouth that he had not been anticipating. 'I'm sorry.' Seeing her run away made him panic; his heart pounded in his chest as he tried to force himself to choose between standing around awkwardly and running after her like some kind of madman. What was he supposed to do? What did she want him to do? Heck, what did he want to do?

Feelings that had been tidily tucked under Fletch's mental rug had reemerged, feelings of love and passion. He didn't think he would ever encounter the forbidden woman again, and there she was, running away like he was some kind of evil villain about to sign a contract to steal her firstborn child. "Sydney, wait! Please!" His breathing was starting to get ragged as a mini-panic attack consumed him, not wanting to lose her again. He wasn't going to let himself cry despite how much he wanted to. He'd never been in a situation like this. It was like a whole new world.

There weren't any friends in Camp Half Blood to hold the two back, but thoughts of having any kind of functional relationship were blurry. By the looks of it, she didn't know what she wanted, but he apparently didn't care. His heart didn't care, his mind didn't care, and his legs groaned in protest. He'd already ran today. If he'd have known this was going to happen, maybe he would have put it off.

A feeling of relief consumed the son of Apollo as he saw the blonde stop in her tracks. His heart started to beat a little faster (which was considerably fast, considering how he was already running) as he tried to come up with the right words. There had to be something he could say to ensure she wouldn't flee again, right? There just had to be. His mind was racing. Words weren't his specialty; physicality was. He wasn't about to pull some random, passionate kiss out of his butt, so that clearly wasn't an option. Hardly out of breath due to his condition, Fletcher stopped a few feet away from Sydney, careful not to get too close.

The tears in her eyes made his want to well up instinctively though he desperately tried to shove them away (luckily, he succeeded). He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, as he tried to get the right words to come out of his suddenly dry mouth. "I..." he faltered and began to fight back the same hot tears that had tried to emerge earlier. "I never thought I'd see you again." The young man forced himself to look away as he blinked, still fighting off his tears. "I don't know what to say, I don't know how to feel. Just like back then you sprung up when I was least prepared." His bottom lip started to quiver as memories came flooding into his mind.

"You left and I was devastated." The words lingered in the air for a moment, but the air was soon occupied with his soft voice yet again. "And now here you are. A chance encounter. And I can't even find the right words to get you to..." he didn't want this to happen again, having someone he truly cared for being ripped away. Sydney wasn't a bandaid. The urge to erect an emotional barrier sprung and he let a tear fall, though it wasn't visible from the angle his face was currently at. "I'm so pathetic."

Weakness was something that Fletcher didn't know how to deal with. He trained to become strong but his emotions were on a rampage. He didn't know how he wanted to act and it seemed like he was slowly beginning to forget how to breathe. He wouldn't chase her again. He couldn't. His chest rose and fell gently as he combatted the tears and pretended to study the trees. He couldn't look at her unless he wanted the dam to burst completely.

Sydney ran to him again and he wasn't sure if he should put his arms around her this time. She'd just pulled away and ran the last time. Though he tried to fight off the urge, he gently placed his arms around the female. He couldn't help himself. The tears he'd been holding back released themselves shortly afterward, though he made it a point not to allow them to drop onto the female. If he could hide it, he would. He was much too proud to let it be seen. Plus, his eyes were going to be all bloodshot and gross. That wasn't a good combination for Fletcher. 

Despite how he tried not to let the actual tears drip onto Sydney, his breathing became a little less even as he began to let it all out. The situation was completely unexpected and he seriously didn't know what he was supposed to do. Being a generally charismatic and confident person, the stopper that was violently removed from his emotional floodgates was really frustrating him. It wasn't often that words didn't come to him, but this certainly was one. And it hurt. He didn't like hurting. 

His bottom lip trembled as he tried to speak, though the words were enunciated well enough to be clear and not fumbled by the trembling. "I've really missed you." That didn't feel right, he felt the urge to say more. But what? Before he could stop himself, words flew from his mouth like vomit. They were spoken as quickly as his beating heart, though they were still clear. "When I met you, I knew you weren't going to be someone who played me like a record like I had been by other girls. You weren't like them. There was something there. I actually loved you and it was deeper than the ocean, not that shallow bullshit." The trembling of his lip started to interfere with his speech, but he still wasn't blubbering incoherently. "And then you left." His chest wiggled from the sob he tried to push back. "I thought you were dead or something."