STARDUST ⭑ LUKE PATTERSON

seventeen

there are mentions of suicide in this chapter which may not be suitable for everyone so please read at own risk

if any of you ever need anything, i am always here for you

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"I'M GONNA MISS THEM," Emmy sighs.

"I know," Dawn replies, fingers threading through locks of purple, Emmy's head resting on her lap.

"I'm gonna miss him the most though."

"I know, baby."

"I love you."

"I know--wait. What did you just say?"

Dawn stares down at her best friend with wide eyes. They've known each other for ten years in the ghost world, and not once have those words ever left Emmy's conscious. Dawn could practically cry right now.

"I really appreciate you, and I'm really sorry if it doesn't come off that way," Emmy continues, staring blankly at the peeling wallpaper of the living room.

"Emmy, I know you care. I never doubted it for a second."

The purple haired girl blinks slowly, chest twisting. "But I never told you, and I—every time you go to hug me, I physically assault you."

"Yeah," Dawn agrees with a laugh. "But you also play me my favorite songs on the piano when I miss my family. You always throw me a party on my birthday even if I'm eighteen forever. You do all those things and I never ask you to."

Emmy smiles at this, head turning up to look at her best friend. In that moment, Dawn resembles what her name meant. She brought peace in the morning dew and crisp air of a sunrise.

"I hope they know how much I love them too," she whispers, eyes falling back to the tarnished wall.

"They know," Dawn reassures her.

"I told Luke to leave." Emmy inhales solemnly, eyes closing and the memories of yesterday play across the darkness.

Dawn instantly slaps Em's forehead, the latter yelling in response. "Now, why would you do that?" she scolds.

"First of all," Emmy whacks Dawn in the neck. "Second, we were on good terms, for the first time in twenty five years. He needed to go then before something bad happened."

"Something bad as in you confessing your feelings?"

Emmy sits up. "Woah there, cowboy. Let's not get too rowdy in this rodeo."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Yee haw," Emmy draws out sarcastically.

"What's the harm in telling him?" Dawn inquires, exasperated at her friend's humorous deflection.

Emmy's posture suddenly slumps, blowing out air in defeat. "Because I already did." Dawn listens intently. "The night I died, I told him I loved him."

"Did he say it back?"

"He told me that I only said it to keep him from going on tour."

"Wow," Dawn says. "No wonder you haven't said you loved me for ten freaking years."

Emmy groans loudly, shoving her face in a pillow and screaming. She lifts her head, blowing at the purple strands that messily fall over her face. "I get it now though. I was just a hurt girl trying to get the one constant thing in her life to stay, but I meant it, Dawn." She looks to her friend with her usual dark eyes, but there was something different. In the blanket of deep brown that usually surrounds her pupils, held a startling shine Dawn had never seen before—like twinkling stardust. "I really meant it," Emmy repeats in a whisper.