The Plague {One Direction AU}

10. Mariana

Las Vegas, NV
December 16

Six days, and she had barely been able to move, paralyzed by the end of the world. Now, Mariana stood alone on the side of the empty road in the empty world, outside of the empty building that had been a second home to her, shivering in the steadily thickening snow.

It seemed like she always ended up alone. From as far back as she could remember, Mariana had moved around, leaving behind her barely-formed friendships, starting over in each new town. Her father was a sergeant in the Army, which inspired in her a certain obsessive perfectionism, masking just a hint of rebellion. She wanted the little things, like how her bed was made or how her shirts were folded, to be just right. But she would resist if someone else told her she had to do it one way or another. Over the years, she had lived in seven U.S. states and four different countries, usually in base housing, never really able to let her roots sink down into the soil before she was pulled unceremoniously from the garden, the few friendships she made scattered on the wind like fallen leaves.

And then when she was a senior in high school, her father was killed in combat, a roadside IED ripping his convoy, ripping his body to shreds. That was enough to send her mother over the edge, lost in her own grief and addiction. So, yeah, Mariana was well-practiced in loss. But it still fucking hurt. It still burned. She wiped hot tears from her cheeks and hugged her arms tighter around her body as the snow started to fall in heavier blankets that surrounded her in an icy chill. Las Vegas wasn't usually so cold, even in the depths of December.

She turned, tucking her hands into her pockets, and with one final glance back, Mariana walked away from the little night club that had been her refuge for the past six days, the past two years. The place where she had found her voice. The place where she had really found herself.

She was a singer. A singer-songwriter, part of a duo called Dumb Lucky. She smiled to herself as she recalled the day they found that name. Conor was tuning his acoustic guitar while Mariana collected herself. It was their first gig together after weeks of practice and writing songs, some quite dark and dreary, others all light and love. Based on looks alone, the audience would have pegged Conor as the dark one, Mariana as the love-struck--his hollow eyes and stringy hair, her super cool, girly style. But it was Mariana whose lyrics pulled from her painful past, while Conor seemed to find his inspiration in her.

"Where's my mic," she scowled. She flipped her hand in annoyance, staring at the empty mic stand, looking around the stage frantically. "Oh my god," she whined. It was in her other hand. "I'm dumb," she shook her head.

"And I'm lucky," Conor chuckled into his microphone. She glanced at him, her scowl dissolving into a smile. Dumb. Lucky. It just stuck. From that day forward, they were no longer Conor and Mariana, they were Dumb Lucky.

God, the way he looked at her then.

Mariana felt her tears boiling over again now and stepped into the open door of a shitty little casino to get out of the cold. She needed a moment to collect herself. Breathing in a heavy sigh, she fought back tears. But it was so hard. So fucking hard. She was alone, for real now. She always used to say that everyone left her. Everyone left her. Except Conor. Until he did too.

They had been best friends. And then lovers. And then best friends again. And then that last day, his last day, they became lovers one last time.

"I love you, Mariana," he murmured, pulling her close to bury his pale face against her shoulder. She could see how sick he was. She ran her fingers through his long hair, trying to soothe him. "I've always loved you." He coughed weakly.

He had. He really had always loved her. Even when she left him. Even when she broke his heart. He stayed. He loved her anyway. He loved her even though she didn't love him. She tugged at his hair gently, moving her mouth to his. He tasted like death. She broke the kiss, pressing her mouth to his jaw and neck instead, tears pooling in her eyes. His skin was so warm, misted with a sheen of sweat though the air was quite cold.