dreamnotfound oneshots

in the dark.

a/n: before we begin, i know that this book will most likely not get the amount of attention as my others, and i'm okay with that. i know that people enjoy reading longer works rather than shorter ones like this. still, if you're seeing this and you enjoy, please leave a vote and a comment, and consider sharing <3 i put a lot of work into these, and i really hope you like it =)

---

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS STORY: death, character seeing a dead body, etc. please do not read if you are prone to being triggered by topics such as these or similar. also this will probably make you sad/cry!

---

word count for this oneshot: 2167

---

I can't let him go. Not yet. Not after everything we've been through. All the fights and rough times, trying to keep ourselves afloat. I'm not ready.

The air bites my skin as I walk outside, swinging the door shut behind me, but I don't care enough to lock it. The walk is long, and my arm begins to hurt with the weight of what I'm carrying.

Cars drive past quickly, sending a deep chill down my spine as my eyes are filled with a memory. His sweet laugh brings joy to my heart, full to the brim with nothing but love and affection. A broad smile crosses my face as I look over, his eyes squinted nearly shut with laughter.

I can't help but join him, my loud wheezes occupying the space in the vehicle. The trees fly by us, much too fast to count. He was laughing at something I said, some cheesy pick up line, most likely. I don't remember exactly. We were heading to the beach, and it was going to be a picnic lunch.

He was so excited; it was rare that he went to the beach, because his family was never very fond of the ocean. Him on the other hand, he loved the water. Hours seemed to pass in minutes on our drive, and I kept one hand in his as I drove, the road melting in front of my eyes.

The radio played softly in the background, always giving us something to fall back on, just in case. Not that we ever needed it. Occasionally, I would sing along to the song, and he would usually join in, humming or singing in another octave. It was beautiful, as much as he didn't think so.

Our lives, well, they were nearly perfect. Sure, we fought here and there, but it was mostly about stupid things, like what to make for dinner, or who got to sleep on the left side of the bed that night.

A tear nearly escapes my eyes as this vision fades, and I'm left alone, walking quietly down the busy streets of our town, the cold stinging my exposed skin. Each step reverberates through my body with a hard impact, almost as if the ground is stiffer today than normal.

I can't bring myself to stop thinking of him, not that I would be able to, even if I tried. Everything feels too loud at this moment. I can hear my heart beating, hear every breath I take in as it stings my throat and burns my chest, the icy air leaving an impression on my insides.

Trudging along, my mind can't help but wander about everything we could've been. There was so much that we still had ahead of us, and we didn't get to do almost any of it. I wanted us to go stargazing and camp under the stars. Go to a fancy restaurant, all dressed up, and order way too much food.

He wanted to go on night drives all the time, windows all the way down, our hands interlocked, the night breeze pushing through his hair. He would lean out the window, letting the wind assault his face, causing it to turn bright red, but he wouldn't have cared. He would've felt alive.

I wanted to marry him. One day, probably in a year or two. Nothing fancy or over the top, though. George never liked those overly flashy and attention grabbing proposals. I would take him out to a nice dinner, or we would stay in, and I would cook his favorite meal. Stuffed salmon and sauteed vegetables. Simple, easy, yet healthy.