Seventeen | Soulmate AU | ✔

26 | Fleeting Thoughts

It's been a hot minute since you guys have seen a chapter, huh? Sorry about that. My motivation's been weird. This chapter is short, but it's a key chapter. I'm kind of excited to see you guys' reactions.

I'm not going to lie to you - my motivation has been slowly waning as school's gone on...for just about everything. But I am going to try and keep up. I'm planning on easing back into updates and then starting to go for doubles.

But enough about me. How've you guys been? Anything drastic you need to complain about?

It's been awhile since I've gotten a bunch of comments, much less votes...even on the last chapter of this story. Please do make sure to comment and vote if you like it. Love you guys x

Also, the chapter song for this is Idontwannabeyou by Billie Eilish.

Keefe is too good for me.

I draw in a breath, it hitching as it falters along with the rest of me. I don't know what to do. I didn't see this coming, even though I'd suspected something was off. Never this. Never, ever this.

I could die before I graduate high school. The thought alone brings fresh tears to my eyes. They slip down my face, retracing tracks left by the many that had come before.

These days there have only been two things in mind: cancer and Keefe. I can't stop thinking about my future, and I can't stop thinking about my soulmate either. Who am I to subject him to this? I've seen glimpses of him so far, only grazing the surface, and I know that he needs someone much better than me. He's got issues too, and I probably won't be available to help him through those when I'm in the middle of dying.

I take another harsh breath, my fingertips digging into the pillow beside me. I grip it tightly, falling into it. It sags under my weight, hiding me from the outside world momentarily. I don't want to open my eyes. I don't want to see the reality of anything.

I'm angry. Angry at the world, angry at myself. I wish I weren't like this. Everything would be better had I not existed. Everyone would be better off.

I can't just cut off everyone that's been involved in my life for so long. But the least I can do is cut off anyone new trying to get to know me. They don't deserve the pain. They don't need to know loss.

My fingers shake as I reach for my phone. I unlock it with my fingerprint, stopping to look at the iMessage icon. I want to throw my phone and watch it shatter so badly, but I resist the urge.

Instead, the pad of my finger lightly grazes over the app. I don't want to press it, but at the same time I do. The app opens, the first person at the top of my messages being Keefe.

I pause. Can I spare him the pain of knowing me? I instantly erase the thought from my head.

The last thing I need to do is be selfish. He deserves to live a good life; with someone he loves. Someone that isn't me, and someone who can give him what he needs. He deserves that much.

He deserves more than me.

I type out a message in the box, swallowing anxiously as my thumb hovers over the send button onscreen. I stare it for a minute, asking myself if I want to do this.

And I do.

Not for me, for him.

It hurts my heart, but it's for the best. It's always for the best. I just want him to be happy. If that means I'm not in his life with him, so be it.

Another tear slips down my face.

I press send, and my phone obliges with the familiar whoosh I always hear.

A sob slips from my mouth, and more tears down my face. I drop my phone next to me on the bed, already grieving for what I've lost.

I tilt my head to the side, pondering. Is it really worth living in pain, or is it more worth dying? I wonder which person someone that died instantaneously would have chosen. It's a fleeting wonder, and then it's gone.

I catch my reflection in the mirror. Somewhere in my head, Billie Eilish's voice wails softly. I don't wanna be you anymore.

My phone vibrates, and it's Keefe calling. My heart hurts. I decline the call.

I look at the message I sent him one last time.

I think we should stop seeing each other.

Goodbye.