Ronan: To the Moon and Back

57. Off To Neverland

Last chapter.

Night has fallen on a day that feels like it should have been over several hours ago. There's a slightest hint of a breeze, teasing with the first signs of summer, though still cool enough to cause some shivers. There's a quiet stillness that settles is the air, the only sound is the faint rustle of the trees leaves when the wind dances among them. The only light comes from the moon, and the soft glow of the deck lights, and the silence comes from everyone having gone home. 

Rae sits alone on the deck, clad in yoga pants, a tee shirt and a zip up hoodie that slips off her shoulder whenever she moves; she swears it's Louis given the Vans logo. Her dress was just too black and too stuffy and filled with a depressing vibe. She's fiddling with the last unlit lantern, black sharpie in hand, twirling it around her fingers. The canvas of the lantern is untouched, blank, because Rae has absolutely no idea what to put. 

Earlier she had taken her camera back from Angelique who, bless her soul, began to take pictures of the lantern ceremony in her absence, and took the rest of the photos of the lights floating in the sky. It was a beautiful sight that brought on a new wave of fresh tears. She hid in a dark corner of the outside of her house, until Harry found her, ridding her tears with a dimpled smile and a hug so tight it made her back pop. She thinks her ribs may have bruised, but it was a good hug, a much needed hug.

She's still spewing over her father finally cornering her in the kitchen, unable to get away before he asked to talked to her. She felt sick to her stomach then, and thinks that maybe sending Harry away wasn't the greatest idea at that time. She had no one to mentally hold on to; Louis was out lighting a lantern with Zayn and she hadn't seen Niall or Liam around. At least with Harry she could have reached out, grabbed his hand, when it got too much, and he could step in and defused the whole thing. However, it was something she needed to do herself, so she ignored the flutters of anxiety, sucked it up and dealt with her father like the adult she is.

Despite her feeling proud of herself for a moment, and the two surprising emotional break downs, crying so hard when she hadn't in years, she feels exhausted; empty. It's not the same kind of empty she felt a few days ago. When all she had been was a hallow case of a body, like a discarded homeless seashell, laid buried beneath gritty sand with the oceans tides burying her deeper into the ground. The ground. Under the sand. Under the earth. Six feet under to be exact.

Rae's chest tightens painfully and her breathing hitches every now and again. Though she has finally shed four years worth of pent up tears, it's still painful to do. She squeezes her eyes shut, feeling a warm tear escape through the lashes of her left eye. It feels strange to cry again, to feel this release in her chest she hasn't felt in a long time. It makes the muscles in her chest spasm, like they remember how painful it was, and can't get over the fact that maybe, just maybe the pain will finally subside. It doesn't stop her from letting one side of the lantern go, and pressing her hand firmly to her chest, healing skin throbbing in protest. Old habits die hard.

"I swear I'll put those gloves back on your hands and handcuff them to the chair."

Rae only jumps slightly, turning her head to spot Louis closing the sliding door behind him. She watches him over her shoulder until he's close enough for her to move her head so her neck isn't screaming at the horrible angle. He grabs one of the empty chairs, drags it closer to her, so close that the arms of the chairs over lap, and plops down on it.

"Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of the gloves then?" Rae challenges softly after a moment.

Louis levels her with his 'I see your bullshit' stare. "Still not trusting you won't claw your way through metal."