This Time Around - Wally Darling x Reader

7 - Dawn, Again

      There were flowers on the windowsill—vibrant, beautiful shades of marigold and fuschia that reflected their hue against the morning sun. Gifts from Frank, a meaningless apology for the turmoil that he had no part in. No amount of 'I'm sorry's would heal the cavern of insufficiency that etched its way across your existence. The flowers sat alongside beautifully written letters— condolences from Eddie and the others that sat unopened. It was insurmountably cold, and you were tired. So very tired.
     The night after it happened, you had laid on the ground underneath the stars. There weren't any constellations that you recognized, rather, the inky darkness sheathed itself with unruly patterns of white. The stars were different that night. Unknown clusters of magnificence formed against the night, and if you squinted, you swore that you could see his face; warm, looking upon you as if nothing at all was wrong. You opened your mouth to scream, to beg, but suddenly the constellation was gone, faded back into the darkness. 

     "-and I'm sure that he wouldn't have wanted you to sit around like this!" Someone was talking- no, whining, as you sat beside them. You winced at the shrill sound, burying your face into your hands as if you could block out their voice.
     "I know that, Julie." You groan, voice alarmingly quiet as you rub your eyes. She grew quiet, furrowing her eyebrows as she stared at you. There was nothing about you that was familiar; it had seemed that with Wally's passing, he had taken the last shreds of light that had danced in your eyes. Now, you were so lifeless that the pillows that decorated the couch were more lively than you, as they at least shifted when they were moved. Julie was sure that she could shove you to the ground and you wouldn't make a peep. 
     "Then why don't you come out for a little while?" The blonde puppet asks, her gaze softening as she places a reassuring hand on your back. You suck in air through your teeth, shaking slightly as she moves. If you closed your eyes tight enough, you could imagine that it was his hand that sat upon your back, rubbing reassuring circles as he consoled you over something far less macabre than his death. You could imagine the intonation of his voice, distinct and charming as he would press soft kisses to your cheek. But you did not have that luxury, did you? 
     "Because he is not here, is he? So who gives a FUCK-" You scream, looking up at her with a crazed look in your eyes. She backs away slightly, removing her hand from your back as you take in a deep breath.
     "It doesn't matter anymore." You finally mumble, your voice quiet and resigned as tears prick at the edges of your vision. You can hear her speaking, possibly trying to say something encouraging as she smiled gently at you. But it's not like any of it mattered, not anymore.

     You could remember the distinct feeling of his blood in between your fingers, hot and horrifyingly slick as you screamed. It left traces of horror as you grabbed onto his cardigan, your tears watering his face as if it were an abandoned garden. He was so cold. So unlike the warmth you were used to, and you begged him to just open his eyes and look upon you as if you were the sun and he was a mountain, shrouded in your warmth as he reached towards you. But you would have no such delights, and there he lay, still and motionless. You couldn't remember if it was Barnaby or Howdy who had finally pulled you away, and even then, voice hoarse and raw, you still screamed for him. For your love, for your forever. The silence was all that awaited you.

     "I'm leaving." The others looked upon you with abject horror, seemingly untrusting of your mental stability. They were all gathered at your door, a colorful myriad of worried faces that gazed upon you with sympathy. Frank was the first to speak up, clearing his throat as he gripped Eddie's hand.
     "You're... what?" Disbelief tainted his voice, leaving a sour taste as he stared at you quizzically. 
      "I'm leaving the neighborhood. I can't do this anymore, all of you- this place; it just reeks of him. And I cannot stand it." They had all begged you to stay, colorful hands gripping your shoulders as they shouted out protests. You would hear none of it, and you slammed your door rather pointedly in their faces.

     That night, you had made your way out of your home under the shroud of darkness. You held a singular rose in your hand and ventured into the woods as crickets chirped around you. You shivered against the night's wind but remained resolute as you found the small patch of overturned dirt that had been marked with an assortment of other flowers from the other neighbors. Some left notes, and Poppy had even left a plate of cookies. It was pathetic, really. You sat down beside it, taking in a solemn breath as you pressed your lips to the petals of the rose. You gripped it tightly, ignoring the sting of the thorns against your palm as hot tears poured from your eyes. What you would give to kiss him again, if only for a moment. You laid the rose against the dirt, and you laid on your back as you looked up at the night sky. It was devoid of stars, a blank slate that sat horrifyingly empty as you shut your eyes tight. You didn't want a blank slate, you wanted to remember the sound of his soft, monotone laugh reverberating in your ears. The way he always found some excuse to touch you, rather it was his shoulder pressed into your side or the full weight of his body on top of yours as you two sat on the couch. He was like a moth to a flame; he would let you scorch him to ashes if it meant that he could bask in your light. The worst part was, however, that was exactly what had happened. He was a puppeteered Icarus who had flown too close to the sun. 
     "I miss you." You breathed, voice barely above a whisper as you sent your words into the abyss that surrounded you. The wind rustled, sending a swift chill over your body as a tear rolled down your cheek. "I miss you, too." It said. You shut your eyes and drifted off into the embrace of sleep. 

      It was cold, insurmountably so. You did not recognize this place, as you sat up slowly as you took in your surroundings, or rather, lack of surroundings. You stood upon solid ground, yet there was no floor beneath you. There was a soft wind that blew from neither here nor there, sending a chill across your skin. You stood there for what could've been minutes or days, staring into the abyss as the inky blackness seemed to swallow you whole. A voice that was everything yet nothing spoke, 

     "Do you want to fix this?"