Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'll be the one to pull you out from underwater.
info - rue x reader - 1st and 3rd person (3rd person used for context. 1st person perspectives will be specified) - rue and y/n's perspectives - euphoria au! where rue takes the train out of town instead of jules - a bit of angst in the beginning but some fluff at the end - lyrical writing! events follow song lyrics. lyrics start from verse 1 of the song talking to the moon by bruno mars. lyrics will be in bold and italics - continuation of pt 1
Click... click... The door next door came to a gentle close at the same time of night around 11 pm, Rue's legs pedaling mechanically as her own footsteps cascaded against her apartment room's floors. She continued to drag herself as quietly as she could to her bedroom, trying not to wake anyone's slumber while her apartment keys dangled at her fingers and her feet created slight friction with the fabric of her socks against the wood floors. Her weight immediately shifted from her shoulders to her entire body once she hit her bed, engulfing her chest and arms within the homey, warm feeling of fresh, white satin sheets and tiredness.
Meanwhile, Y/n lingered at their own door, their eyes pressed into their door's peephole to be met with Rue's figure passing by at the same time every night ever since Rue's arrival. They wondered what happened to the girl next door. How was she doing? Why is she always out so late? Does she know that I'm thinking about her? Why did she move in at such a random time? These were all thoughts Y/n pondered on after successfully establishing somewhat of an acquaintance with their mysterious neighbor who temporarily rented the residential room next door with haste.
I know you're somewhere out there Somewhere far away
Rue's pov
It's been at least a week since I've rented this room. Luckily, I was able to find an affordable place to stay: an apartment company that has small, scattered complexes along parts of the city that provided at least two to three rooms per three floors of an entire complex.
The apartments themselves aren't too bad either, posing as an empty, minimalistic room featuring higher ceilings, all white walls, kitchen with marble counters and iridescent backsplash, dark chocolate, oak wood flooring, decorative lighting fixtures with twists of vintage modernity, and sheer grey curtains hugging the sides of every window.
I feel like I've completely lucked out, taking this new adjustment to living as slow as possible, yet I can't let go of this impenetrable emptiness. Ever since I let go of Jules, returning back to sleep within these unfamiliar white walls can never shake it. It could never heal the fact that I miss her. I could hug these soft bedsheets as close to my body as I want, but I'll never step a foot outside or inside of this apartment without feeling like I made a big mistake.
I want you back, I want you back My neighbors think I'm crazy
I can imagine Jules staying over at her friend's apartment complex, way far away, having a fun time dancing against the midnight's calling within her dream indie bedroom completed with starry lights, spiritual tapestry, and complementary music that suites her style. I can't help but go to sleep dreaming about her and feeling my heart ache until I can't shut my eyes anymore, and I have to force myself to stay up and fall back asleep by morning. I've even thought about taking sleeping pills but I don't want to hook myself on them.
