THE KEY (parsnormal/fantasy romance)

Fighting myself because I'm stupid

The Red means I love you- Madds Buckley
~
Valentino
~
Stop bringing her to the fucking hoard.

Who me? 

You aren't cute.

I'm very cute. Ask Zee-

There is no fuckin Zee. Zee never existed. It's Zyla. 

My dragon didn't respond. I sighed and walked into the library, rows of bookshelves stretched out ahead of me. 

I trotted to the back of the library and pulled on the side of a shelf, opening a door. Inside was a cozy room. Filled with Zee. Not Zyla, Zee. Zee and Zee and Zee. The long wilted flower bracelet she made. The messing painted rock she'd given me. A ratty hoodie she'd traded with me. A gum wrapper. The walls were dark blue, her favorite color. In a glass box was a hair tie, the first thing she'd given me. Hung up on the wall was a letter, telling me she'd always be my best friend. Underneath was a box filled with letters she'd given me. Drawing we drew of stick figures of both of us. Games of tic tac toe. Notes we wrote and saved to give to the other when we weren't together. 

This room was my shrine. She'd died, so I made a place where she could live on. But everything was a lie.

Every gift.
Every note.
Every word.
Every. Fucking. Thing.
And I hated her more. 
I hated how she took herself away from me. After she'd died, at least I had the shrine, good memories. My happy place. Now I had no happy place. Nowhere to go to relieve stress. I had nothing. And it was her fault. 

Anger filled me and I saw red. Running a hand through tangled black hair, I paced the room. Then I punched a wall.

Not enough

I grabbed the box of letters and ripped them. Everything that meant anything to me. I reached up to grab the one hanging but froze.

Dear, Val/Vale/Tino
I know I haven't been the best friend recently. I'm sorry. I know we haven't hung out as much, but you're my bestest friend in the world, so I'm gonna try harder. I'll hang out more, anything. Cause you're always there. You hold me when I'm sad and you make me happy. And I'll always be your bestest friend. I promise it on the rushing rivers and the setting sun.
Love, Zee

And I broke. 

“You promised, Zee. You fucking promised. Why? Why why why? Why would you lie? Why do you hate me when I love you? I love you I love you I love you. Zee…” I sobbed into my hands. 

No. I have to hate her. I can't be weak. She doesn't get to win. 

And yet, even with that in mind, I collected every letter and drawing and note and put it back together. Taping each piece to its partner, leaving it imperfect, but together.