A Song For You//[Thonny]

Chapter Thirty-Five

The house was silent, the kind of silence that swallowed sound and turned it into something suffocating. Thom sat cross-legged in the middle of Jonny's living room, surrounded by boxes and stacks of old belongings that he was supposed to sort through. Each item he picked up felt heavier than it should have, carrying memories he wasn't ready to face.

A week and two days. That's how long it had been since Jonny was gone. The funeral had come and gone, a blur of tear-streaked faces and hollow condolences. Ed and Phil had begged Thom to leave the house, to come stay with one of them, but he couldn't. Leaving felt like admitting it was real.

His hands trembled as he opened another box, this one filled with videotapes, their labels scrawled in Jonny's familiar messy handwriting. Thom ran his fingers over them, the plastic cases cool and unyielding beneath his touch. He recognized some of the titles—movies they'd made together as kids, stupid sketches they thought were hilarious at the time.

Then his eyes landed on one tape in particular. The label was simple, almost too plain: Thom Greenwood + Jonny Yorke.The writing was careful, as if Jonny had taken his time with it.

Thom stared at it for a long moment, his chest tightening. He wasn't sure he could handle whatever was on the tape, but something compelled him to pick it up. His fingers closed around it, and he slid it into the VHS player, his heart pounding as he pressed play.

The screen flickered to life, the image grainy but familiar. It was Thom's house, eight years ago. The camera was shaky, clearly held by Jonny, who was laughing as he tried to get Thom to look at him.

"Come on, Thom," Jonny's voice rang out, younger and lighter. "Say something to the camera."

Thom, barely 19 in the video, rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything," Jonny said, his laughter bubbling up again. "Tell the world how much you love me."

Thom snorted. "I'll pass, thanks."

"Liar," Jonny teased, and the camera jostled as he moved closer, the screen filling with Thom's face, grinning like a fool. "You love me, admit it."

Thom's cheeks flushed, but his grin widened. "Fine. I love you, you annoying bastard. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Jonny replied, and the video cut off abruptly.

The next clip was more of the same—moments of joy and laughter, the two of them fooling around in their houses, on the street, in the park. Thom watched as they built forts out of pillows, danced around the kitchen, and sang off-key to old records. 

Phil, Ed, Colin, and even little Andy appeared in a few clips, always annoyed by the two shoving a cam-corder in their face and demanding interviews. A few clips featured Jonny's mom or both of Thom's parents, the camera forced in their direction as 16-year-old Jonny rambled on about whatever and Thom's laughter bubbled from the background. 

Tears streamed down Thom's face as he watched, the ache in his chest growing with each passing moment. He'd forgotten how happy they'd been back then, how easy everything had seemed before it all fell apart.

The tape shifted, the screen cutting to black before a new clip began. This time, the footage was clearer, newer. Thom frowned, his breath catching as he realized when this had been filmed.

It was nine months ago, the first week he and Jonny had gotten back together.

The camera was propped up on the kitchen counter, and Jonny was in the frame, fiddling with the coffee maker. Thom's voice came from off-screen.

"Why are you filming this?"

Jonny turned to the camera, fixing the angle, a sheepish smile on his face. "Because I want to remember this."

"Remember what?"

Jonny shrugged, his eyes soft as he looked at the lens. "You. Us. This moment."

Thom stepped into the frame, his hair damp from the rain outside. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," Jonny said, his smile widening. "But you're here, and that's all that matters."

Thom watched as the version of himself in the video rolled his eyes but leaned in to kiss Jonny anyway, their laughter filling the small kitchen. The screen froze on their smiling faces before fading to black, leaving Thom staring at his own reflection in the darkened TV.

He broke.

Sobs tore from his chest, raw and unrelenting, as he crumpled to the floor. His hands clutched at his shirt, as if he could physically hold himself together, but it was no use. The pain was too much, too heavy, and it consumed him whole.

"I'm sorry," he whispered through his tears, his voice shaking. "I'm so sorry, Jonny."

The house around him felt colder, emptier, as if it too mourned Jonny's absence. Thom sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of the tape and the memories pressing down on him.

He didn't know how to move forward. Didn't know if he could. All he knew was that Jonny was gone, and the world felt dimmer without him.

But even in the darkness, Thom clung to the echoes of Jonny's laughter, the warmth of his smile, and the love they'd shared. It wasn't enough to heal the wound, but it was all he had left.

Maybe they were robbed of what could have been, what was, what would be. 

Maybe they never got their happily ever after that they dreamed of.

Maybe they had broken down and built each other up. Over, and over, and over again.

Maybe none of it ended how they wanted.

But Thom loved Jonny, and Jonny loved Thom. They got to love each other.

For Jonny, that had been enough.

And for Thom... well, it was all he would ever know.

~~~

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I am so deeply sorry.

This is the last chapter, however. Thank you guys for all the support! Im sorry I did this to you, but emotion is good for the soul.