Maroon

All that mattered now was that she was crying on the floor at midnight on her 18th birthday, remnants of a cake she didn't even want to eat sitting by the plate next to her, and she was so cold in her bra and jeans but couldn't for the life of herself bring herself to get up to grab a sweater. All she wanted was to hear her voice. To tell her she loved her again, once again, because it made her feel more alive than everything else ; but the short-haired girl didn't answer anymore. No call, no text, no sign of life since last week because Midnights had called again. Because she was the one who always called now.

Even though it was 1989 that reached out after 6 months saying she thought of her.
-
Or,
Midnights reminiscing everything that happened and everything that didn't.

(Vent fic written within an hour after I cried doing the exact same thing listening to this album.)