Remember Me Once More | Ted Shackleford (The Man in The Yellow Hat) x f. Reader

Remember Me Once More

Ted Shackleford was not a malevolent person.

Ask anyone and everyone who knew him; he was the last person to hold a grudge against anyone. His monkey had flooded his apartment - thrice! But his response every time he discovered George scratching his head uncomfortably and awkwardly giggling amid the soapy bubbles and rubber duckies surrounding him was to just sigh before proceeding to clean the place.

But you? You were a different story. Every time he recalls the blurry memory of you walking away from him - the last time he ever saw you - he only vividly remembers the anger bubbling up inside his chest. He only remembers the deep frown etched on his face, and the furrowing of his eyebrows as he dug his nails into his palm. Was it selfish to only recall what he felt at that moment, rather than the sight of you hurriedly making your way to your plane without sparing him another glance? To look back on perhaps the most significant turning point in his life and only focus on his emotions rather than figuring out why you left in the first place?

He didn't know. And, to be quite frank, a part of him doesn't care. Altruism was his one principle in life and constantly bent over backward 24/7 to make everyone happy; surely he could afford to be unkind in this one avenue.

But...

Some nights - including tonight - he thinks of the other memories you shared. That elementary school Halloween party, where you warned him that he was going to get teased relentlessly for dressing up as Percy Shelley (whom he was weirdly obsessed with back then), but come the day you surprised everyone by strolling in as Mary - Frankenstein plush and all in your hand. Yeah, you both still got ridiculed by all the Scooby-Doos and Rugrats in your class, but no bullying could have deterred the warmth he felt inside when you leaned over and whispered, "It's either both of us or none of us."

There was also that day in freshman year when you guys cycled through town, the sun setting behind you as you rushed home to make it in time for curfew. How you'd tripped over a train track and he'd tried his best to clean and dress the small gash on your knee, and how you looked at him as if he'd hung up the stars in the sky to accompany the moon when he matched his pace to yours and made it home extremely late. He'd gotten scolded, but it didn't matter. Not as long as you were safe. Besides, all was forgiven when you presented him with a history book in addition to his favorite cookies over a week later. The book inspired him to pursue history and eventually landed him a career as a museum director at the Met. Without you, he doesn't know how he wouldn't have gotten here.

It's that exact realization, however, that causes him to shift to his side on the bed and shake off all thoughts of you. He was approaching 30, for god's sake, and had a life to think about now rather than you; the one that got away. He lists them all in his head: a rambunctious monkey not even the age of 3, the meeting he has tomorrow for his new gallery opening, his friends... If it meant that, to focus, he had to drown out his thoughts (and the feeling of your soft lips pressing against his that one time) to the sound of George peacefully snoring in the room beside him, then so be it.

You had to remain in the past because Ted doesn't have space for you in his future.

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The last thing you want to be confronted with after your tedious 6-hour flight to New York City is bitter coffee, but of course, that is what you get. The minute the foul-tasting liquid grazes your taste buds you spit it out onto the pavement, where the crowds don't even bother reacting to your gross public act of self-humiliation. It is at that moment when you truly feel like you are in New York, never mind the countless welcoming posters you'd seen passing through the airport. Being back in America after half a dozen years abroad felt dizzying - like something you'd spent so long carrying with you around British Columbia had finally lifted itself from your shoulders when you landed. You finally felt at home.