Sturniolo one-shots I think of in class.

but why? 💜💙🧡pt 3

this one is quite a long chapter but oh well, i'll probably be posting daily cuz i've already gotten most of it written out just needs editing!!!

Chapter Three — The River Doesn't Wait

Matt didn't mean to leave the house.

But by late afternoon, the walls had started to breathe. They closed in around him like lungs that weren't his. The kind that squeezed your ribs until you forgot how to stand.

He slipped out the back door. Hoodie on. Head down. The air smelled like wet concrete and burnt toast from the diner four blocks down.

Rain fell soft and slow, soaking into the town like an apology.

He didn't have a plan. His feet just carried him. Down the hill. Past the market. Past people who knew his name but not his voice. Past the parts of town his father didn't even acknowledge existed.

Until he heard the river.

The current hummed like it was alive. Not loud. Not rushing. Just steady. Cold. Familiar in the worst way.

He should've turned around.

Instead, he followed it.

The path narrowed. The ground got muddy. The streetlights flickered like they were thinking about dying. And then, through the rain and the blur, he saw a figure by the railing.

Leaning. Still.

Smoke coiled up into the damp sky like something trying to escape.

Chris Owen.

Of course.

⸻

Matt stopped a few feet away. He didn't say anything. Not at first.

The sound of the water filled the silence between them.

Chris didn't flinch. Didn't look over. Just stared at the river like it had taken something from him and refused to give it back.

Matt's hands were jammed in his pockets, clenched tight around the inside lining. He didn't know why he was there. Why he hadn't run the moment he saw him.

But something kept him there. Something he didn't have words for.

"I hate this river," Matt said. His voice cracked on the word river, like it didn't belong in his mouth.

Chris didn't move. "Then leave."

Matt stepped closer.

"I should."

"Then do."

"I can't."

Silence again. Rain pattered against the railing. Against them.

Finally, Chris spoke. Quiet. Flat. Tired.

"She drowned here?"

Matt blinked. Hard.

"No. Not here. A lake."

Chris nodded once. Like the difference didn't matter.

Matt stared at the water, hands shaking in his pockets. "She slipped. I was too small. I screamed until I thought my lungs would bleed."

Chris didn't say sorry. Didn't say anything, for a while.

Then: "Didn't anyone hear you?"

Matt's voice dropped. "They did. They just didn't move fast enough."

Chris flicked his cigarette into the river. It hissed and vanished.

"I didn't know her," he said.

"I figured," Matt muttered.