Theea
I nod slowly, lips quirking at the corners in a small, private smile. “Yeah. I think she’ll be proud.” My voice is quiet, but steady. “She’s not just a ghost in the woods or anything. I know more or less where she is—wherever I am—just not how close.” I think that’s what makes it harder, sometimes. Knowing she’s somewhere, watching, not knowing what she sees or what she misses, but I can’t reach out without risking unraveling the whole reason she let me go in the first place.
Elizabeth laughs at my description of them, and it makes my smile stretch a little wider. “They really were the best together. Like, honestly? Gross. The kind of couple that would dance barefoot in the kitchen to nothing but the creak of the floorboards, could never keep their hands off of each other. They’d prank each other constantly—hide each other’s boots, swap out spices—but gods, they always showed up for each other when it mattered.”
The warmth in my chest is real, but something under it catches. Sinks. “I miss him,” I say before I can stop myself. The words come out like they’ve been waiting, like they’ve been sitting behind my ribs too long. “It’s been years, but it still sneaks up on me. I’ll smell peppermint and pine and think he’s just around the corner. Hear someone laugh, and it sounds so close to him I forget to breathe for a second. Some days it feels like if I went back to our old haunts, I’d find him there, like nothing ever changed.”
I glance down at my hands, fingers curling loosely around the sleeves of this too-big jacket that belonged to him. As much as I ache for more—more life, more meaning—sometimes I’d trade it all just to be seven again. Just to crawl between them during a thunderstorm or fall asleep to the sound of their laughter through the walls.
Elizabeth’s offer breaks me out of the thought, and I blink in surprise. “Really?” There’s something bright and warm in my chest again—different from the ache, softer. “I’d love that.” My smile tilts a little shy. “But fair warning—I’m a cuddler. Like, full-on barnacle levels of clingy. You have every right to shove me and wake me up if I get annoying.”
I grin, sheepish, but there’s gratitude in it too. “Thanks, really.” I glance toward the rooftops and the fading sky beyond. “You said you’re headed out in the morning, right? That's from the observatory?”
Elizabeth laughs at my description of them, and it makes my smile stretch a little wider. “They really were the best together. Like, honestly? Gross. The kind of couple that would dance barefoot in the kitchen to nothing but the creak of the floorboards, could never keep their hands off of each other. They’d prank each other constantly—hide each other’s boots, swap out spices—but gods, they always showed up for each other when it mattered.”
The warmth in my chest is real, but something under it catches. Sinks. “I miss him,” I say before I can stop myself. The words come out like they’ve been waiting, like they’ve been sitting behind my ribs too long. “It’s been years, but it still sneaks up on me. I’ll smell peppermint and pine and think he’s just around the corner. Hear someone laugh, and it sounds so close to him I forget to breathe for a second. Some days it feels like if I went back to our old haunts, I’d find him there, like nothing ever changed.”
I glance down at my hands, fingers curling loosely around the sleeves of this too-big jacket that belonged to him. As much as I ache for more—more life, more meaning—sometimes I’d trade it all just to be seven again. Just to crawl between them during a thunderstorm or fall asleep to the sound of their laughter through the walls.
Elizabeth’s offer breaks me out of the thought, and I blink in surprise. “Really?” There’s something bright and warm in my chest again—different from the ache, softer. “I’d love that.” My smile tilts a little shy. “But fair warning—I’m a cuddler. Like, full-on barnacle levels of clingy. You have every right to shove me and wake me up if I get annoying.”
I grin, sheepish, but there’s gratitude in it too. “Thanks, really.” I glance toward the rooftops and the fading sky beyond. “You said you’re headed out in the morning, right? That's from the observatory?”
cause we waited years and years
just to make it worth the tears
to find out that we're not in this alone
so keep your head up high in these hours of the night
so when atlas drops the world on your shoulders, you still won't fall
