It's cold and crummy outside. I already finished all of my farm chores so I'm just lying in bed with my cat and my T.V., a perfect night. Though one thing creeps into my thoughts. My eyes dart over to the stack of letters on my table, each one from a rehab facility in Zuzu city. I can't really bring myself to read them. It hurts to look at them. Knowing he's gone. I know he's out healing, but I hate the note we left on. I take a deep breath in and try to remember he's getting better for the both of us. I don't even know how long he has been gone, I know it's been a while. The days seem to blend. I no longer know when he's coming home. I want to write back, but what do I say? "Hey Shane, you dropped a bombshell on me before you left and now I've been ignoring your letters. Talk soon?"
My thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. It's nearly 10, what the hell? A soaking wet black-haired man stands on my porch, I recognize him.
Shanes has been through hell, hasn't he?
"Hey Y/n," he mutters.
I stutter out a "Hi Shane." and usher him inside and out from the cold. He stands there wearily just staring at the floor. "You never wrote me back," He says somberly.
"I know." I respond
"Why?"
"I didn't know what to say. I'm sorry." I do anything to avoid his gaze. An awkward silence hangs in the air. Neither of us knows what to say. I remember that night. He was soaking wet, just like this. And he looked just as tired and shame-filled. Shane finally breaks the silence. "I see you didn't even open them." Shit. "I know I'm sorry, I just, couldn't. I guess."
He sighs, "Well, It's my fault. I didn't exactly leave us on the best terms"
"Yeah, that's the best way to put it I guess."
We both take a seat at the table. I put another log on the fireplace to try and warm him. I even put on a pot of tea. Though I do so silently, there's an understanding of the nothingness between us. I finally take a seat. The memories of that night still flood my brain. It happened almost like this. Swallowing whatever reservations I have left, I mutter "You could have died, you know." I rub my temples with my tea-warmed hands. "Hypothermia, falling off that cliff, alcohol poisoning-" He cuts me off, "But I didn't... That says enough right?" What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Shane senses my confusion. "Maybe I didn't die that night for a reason. Maybe I'm here right now for a reason." A dry chuckle escapes my lips. "Yeah like, what?" I make contact with his dark melancholic eyes. He shows a small smirk for the first time in forever. "I'm saying that maybe, just maybe, Yoba spared me that night because of love. Maybe my love for you was just enough to save me. It might be enough to make me whole again, to fix me." I put my head in my palms. In an act of desperation, I say, "I can't fix you, Shane. You can't be fixed." Shane freezes. Whatever reaction he was expecting it wasn't that one. "Well I don't expect you to" I interrupt him. "Shane can you just fucking listen to me once, please? You can't be fixed because you were never broken, my love." He adverts his gaze away from mine, probably out of embarrassment. I hear him take a deep sigh. "What are we doing Y/N?"
I respond, "What do you mean?"
"I don't know, just, what is going on between us."
The answer is hidden between those somber eyes and soaking wet hair I know it is. If I keep staring I know I'll find it. While searching I see him get up and push in his chair. Without thinking I do the same. As he walks toward the door I grab his wrist. When he Instinctively looks at me I stutter, "We can be whatever we want to be, whatever feels right." Shane crosses his fingers with mine and looks up. "I can be okay with that." Our eyes meet for the final time before I pull him in for a long-needed hug.
Maybe I can be okay with that too
