Best For Last || Evan Peters AU

goodbyes

      "Don't!" Those words were a tug at your heart and a spit in your face. "Evan--" 

   The room spun around you. You tried to keep a neutral expression as you ripped your hand from him and stormed out the front door of the Froyo shop, your ex boyfriend hot on your heels. You gasped in the outdoor air feeling damn near every emotion possible. You made it to the driver's side of your mother's car as Evan called out to you again and again. You climbed inside and shoved the keys in the ignition, but before you could close the door, Evan stood in the way.

   "Move," you demanded fiercely.

   "Please," he said for the millionth time. "What do you want me to do, beg?" And with that, he was kneeling on the concrete beside your seat.

   "Get up," you hissed, looking all around.

   "Didn't you hear what I said in there?"

   "Yes," you summoned all the wrath you could. "Congratulations, you've become your mother."

   He paled and released your hand, "You didn't mean that."

   The pure agony on his face destroyed whatever willpower you'd built up. Your expression toward him softened, and you looked him up and down before offering your hand again. He took it eagerly and hope filled his eyes again. The two of you didn't say anything for a while, only looked at each other as you both shamelessly let tears streak your faces.

   "Is this really it?" he finally murmured. You nodded, and he looked to the ground.

   After a few minutes, he rose from his knees and you looked over each other's faces as if memorizing them. He looked to your lips as his trembled still, and you blinked slowly up at him, an entire conversation had in silence. He closed the distance between you slower than ever before; both your eyes fluttered shut and his mouth lowered to yours for the last time.

   This seemed like an act of pity on your part, but you were indulging yourself just as much as him. Somewhere in this kiss that lasted a sad eternity and no time at all simultaneously, the minty gum you were chewing went from your mouth to his. You knew then that the memory of this moment would always smell like him and taste like spearmint.

   "Say it again," you whispered against his lips that hovered just above yours. "One last time."

   He held your face in his hands, but you both kept your eyes shut. "I love you. I always have."

   You watched him get into his own car, but didn't dare acknowledge each other further after that. He drove away first. You sat in that spot for the better part of an hour playing back everything you two said and did, feeling everything again all at once. In the end you were left with anger. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, but you knew from the moment he told you he was going away that you guys were done for.
   You slammed both hands on the steering wheel then gripped it 'til your knuckles were white. You screamed, and didn't care if anyone could hear you outside the car. You weren't sure what otherworldly force pulled you toward the riverbank where you and Evan had spent that summer night together, but you were speeding toward it before you formed any sort of plan.

   It was impossible to drive right up to exactly where you two were, so you settled for parking in the empty dirt lot next to the train tracks where the path to your spot began. You could practically feel your blood pressure rising as you stood getting angrier and angrier, huffing and clutching the necklace that lay on your collarbones. The thin wire snapped easily when you indignantly tugged it from your neck; you opened the locket one last time, taking in that faded, tiny picture of your first love. And suddenly, all the anger was sorrow.

   Why hadn't you been enough for him?

   You held the locket in your fist close to your chest one last time before hurling it as hard and far as you could into the ditch on the other side of the tracks. It was perfectly symbolic for what was to come. Every picture you and Evan had taken together over the last six years was deleted from your phone and all your social media. His number was unsaved. You unfriended and unfollowed him on everything, noting that your initials were already gone from his bios.

   By the time you returned home, your eyes were irritated and rubbed raw from all the crying. Your sleeves were drenched with all the tears you'd cried, and the tip of your nose was red. You knew you wouldn't be able to lie your way out of this one. Your mother took one look at you and used every ounce of strength she had left to sit up.

   "Honey..." was all she had to say, and you were a mess again. You threw yourself into her arms as gently as you could. Your head was cradled to her chest: this was the safest place you knew.

   "It's over," you finally admitted. "He didn't love me enough."

   "Oh Y/N," she weakly pet your hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

   You got the feeling that she wasn't only apologizing for this tragedy, but also that she wouldn't be around every time you'd need her in the future. The two of you cried together, over everything.

   Your mother was like no other you'd ever encountered. Growing up, you weren't allowed to do chores: she told you that you had the rest of your life to worry about things like that, and that you should be a kid while you could. She never even mentioned the word rent. Never held anything over your head. She was on your side even when you were undeniably wrong. Somehow, she always pulled through for you guys. You were far from rich, but you never went without. From your days of being a toddler, she was your first best friend; even well into your teen years and early adulthood she remained just that. So when the cancer took her in August, there wasn't a single thing left in Pennsylvania to hold you there.