AJ/ROSE; pt 1
What: Angsty AJ/Rose drabbles
One
There’s a place he always runs to when he needs to think. He’s created a shelter in the forest behind his house. He hides there when he’s lost and confused. He’s there now because he doesn’t know where else to go. He’s a failure. He’s certain of it this time.
There’s no magic undo spell. There’s no way of taking it back and making everyone forget. Apologies could work, but they’d come off as insincere.
“Xander.”
Rose.
Two
She keeps a box of his pictures under her bed. She pulls them out to look at them every night. There are tear stains on most of them, the corners already fraying. It’s only been three months but it feels like eternity.
Carefully, she spreads them across her bed. Most of them are of him smiling, happy. A few show the vulnerability beneath his carefree façade. She wishes she could have touched his sadness and made it go away. That would have been easy. Nothing was ever easy with him.
She touches his face, wishing she could hear his laugh again. She longs to know he’s safe at home writing her a note on their correspondence stones. She makes up reasons for why there’s been silence. She fills up the holes in her heart with enough lies that she can get through the day.
After she caresses each photograph, she packages them back into their box. Maybe her tears are drying and she’s moving on. There weren’t as many tonight.
And maybe she’s realizing he still lives on in her heart.
One
There’s a place he always runs to when he needs to think. He’s created a shelter in the forest behind his house. He hides there when he’s lost and confused. He’s there now because he doesn’t know where else to go. He’s a failure. He’s certain of it this time.
There’s no magic undo spell. There’s no way of taking it back and making everyone forget. Apologies could work, but they’d come off as insincere.
“Xander.”
Rose.
Two
She keeps a box of his pictures under her bed. She pulls them out to look at them every night. There are tear stains on most of them, the corners already fraying. It’s only been three months but it feels like eternity.
Carefully, she spreads them across her bed. Most of them are of him smiling, happy. A few show the vulnerability beneath his carefree façade. She wishes she could have touched his sadness and made it go away. That would have been easy. Nothing was ever easy with him.
She touches his face, wishing she could hear his laugh again. She longs to know he’s safe at home writing her a note on their correspondence stones. She makes up reasons for why there’s been silence. She fills up the holes in her heart with enough lies that she can get through the day.
After she caresses each photograph, she packages them back into their box. Maybe her tears are drying and she’s moving on. There weren’t as many tonight.
And maybe she’s realizing he still lives on in her heart.