Style oneshots?

Freinds forever? 💔

In the dimly lit room, Stan's eyes met Kyle's, the weight of unspoken words heavy between them. The air was thick with the echoes of a friendship once unbreakable, now hanging by the thinnest thread.

Kyle hesitated, then broke the silence. "Do you remember when we used to believe we'd be friends forever?"

Stan nodded, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, like nothing could tear us apart."

"But life happened, Stan. We grew up, and everything changed," Kyle said, his voice barely above a whisper.

A melancholic melody drifted through the room from an old record player in the corner. It seemed to underscore the symphony of their fading connection.

"I miss the days when we laughed until our stomachs hurt, when it was just you, me, and the world," Stan admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Kyle took a step closer, the space between them shrinking but the emotional chasm widening. "Sometimes I wonder if we lost ourselves trying to find who we were supposed to be."

Stan's eyes welled with unshed tears. "I never thought we'd end up strangers."

The room seemed to close in around them as they grappled with the irreparable fractures in their friendship. The weight of unspoken apologies and unresolved regrets lingered like a storm cloud.

"Kyle, I—" Stan began, but the words caught in his throat.

Kyle shook his head, a mix of sadness and acceptance in his eyes. "Some things can't be fixed, Stan. We can't go back."

As if acknowledging the finality of their moment, the record on the player scratched softly, distorting the music. It was a discordant harmony mirroring the disintegration of a bond that had once been their refuge.

With a heavy sigh, Stan reached into his pocket and pulled out an old photograph—the two of them, carefree and smiling. He handed it to Kyle, a silent plea for understanding.

"I'll always treasure what we had," Kyle murmured, fingers tracing the contours of the photograph.

In that moment, they stood on the precipice of goodbye, the weight of nostalgia and the harsh reality of time tearing at their hearts. The saddest part was not the end itself but the echoes of what used to be, lingering like faded echoes in the room, now filled with the hollowness of what was lost.