𝐇𝐎𝐀𝐗 | tvd & reign oneshots

- 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.

Purely angst. Like, angst. Kinda fluffy. Inspired by a song because I seriously don't think I can write anything that isn't.
Someone please scream at me to write something original

—

He still wakes up every day and touches the pillow next to him, still not used to the silence of her absence and the emptiness it brings, plus that familiar pang in his heart when just the very idea of her double-crosses his mind.

The coffee cup on the bedside table still has her lipstick stain on it. He hasn't bothered to wash it or throw it away. According to his seventh-grade science teacher, it may grow mold. It doesn't. And the stain doesn't fade with time. Every day, it just becomes more prominent and taunts him from its perch next to his bed—a reminder that he wasn't able to save her in time.

He's lost all track of time. He can't tell how long it's been, but he does know everybody moved on. His sister ran away to Italy with her ex-boyfriend's brother, and all the people he knew from school are getting married and starting families, but he's still here. As much as he wants to, he can't leave. There's just something about this town, this place, this house—he can't. As far as Jeremy knows, he'll be stuck here forever.

Without her.

It's fate being cruel and wicked and the world damming him to an eternity of misery; every woman that he has ever loved has died. Including the one who's been there during his worst lies.

"You're thinking about this again?" she asks as if she could read his mind, appearing from thin air and walking over to his bed, taking a seat and looking into his eyes. "Jeremy, move on. Please, everybody did. I'm just some whirlwind teenage hookup that you had when you were fifteen. Go find a wife, have some kids, fall in love, and have some fun. Please. Forget about me. Forget that any of this ever happened."

She looks the same as the day he left her; denim jacket, those haunted eyes, the look that would've loved him for a lifetime. And it makes his heart ache, knowing that she spent those last moments thinking of him, so instead of downing a shot of truth, he lies to at least try and make it better.

"Anna, believe me. I've tried."

He hasn't. He's never tried. He can't bear to even think of it.

"Please, just promise me that you are, regardless. I can't just stand by and watch you like this, and it just hurts even more if I'm the reason why."

Once again, they're in a position they both remember all too well—it happens every time. Her head is on his shoulder, and he can miraculously still feel its weight.

There are three small words they're both thinking, but they can never find the courage to say it aloud.

Sighing, he stands up and finds that she's silently lifted her hand, a sort of ritual they always find themselves coming back to.

We never learn, we've been here before.

And, as always, they're running from the bullets.

However, he interlocks his fingers with hers and presses play on the radio, allowing himself to follow her careful movements and drown everything else out. In this world, it's only them.

Jeremy can't let go.

He knows Anna doesn't want to, either, because they're both so utterly lost. They've been so hopelessly lost for so much time now that there's no point in even finding the Second Star to the Right anymore.

So they don't, and they remain there. The road gets hard and they're lost, here, again with no surprises, and they're led purely by blind faith.

Nonetheless, they keep on dancing, straight on till morning.

-

There goes five hundred something words! Anyway, hope you enjoyed it?

Keep reading, keep writing, keep dreaming... V