ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ, ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ

@hangtenn asked: be with me. please.

He should have tried harder. Should have dug down deeper to be the rotten bastard that he could be from time to time. Hell, he should have never looked at her if he was being completely honest with himself. But despite his best efforts to keep Lennon away, here she stood in his living room, pleading with him. Again. And it tears at him, the look in her eyes, the tone of her voice, but he wasn't good for her. Wasn't good for anyone.

Back and forth like some fucked up dance. This isn't the first time with her nor is it the first relationship he's been in where this same dance has been done. His vision blurs sometimes and it's not Lennon he sees standing across from him, his mind playing tricks on him to show her being there. But she's been gone for Gods know how long and he's relieved ( she'd been the asshole this last time, made him want nothing to do with her, a lie. ) It's not her though, no, it's Lennon. Someone new who he had done his damnedest not to grow fond of. To fight everything in his body screaming for him to give himself some happiness, to quell the loneliness that nipped at him like the bitter cold of winter often brought.

"Jesus Christ..." Travis sighed, turning his back and walking away from her. He moved for the counter, hands coming to grip at the edge of it. "It doesn't matter and it's not bullshit," he shot over his shoulder, not looking at her because he couldn't. His head hung and eyes closed as his grip tightened, welcoming the pain that began to spread throughout his palms. "Goddamn it, Lennon!" he snapped, voice raised and body turning to stare at her. He's had a few drinks or at least what he considers to be a few; others would say too many.

seeing things and people who weren't actually there wasn't a new thing for taissa, but seeing van in front of her is enough to bring her to tears. she'd only buried her body a few hours prior, pieces of her lover's heart still circulating throughout her body. taissa had gone home, not realizing how much seeing the remains of the love of her life would affect her emotionally. maybe she assumed that it wouldn't - that she could just be cold and unaffected. but she wasn't, not in the slightest.

everything felt like her. the movie collection that van had dug through boxes for after claiming offense to the fact that taissa had never seen them was still sitting on the coffee table. (they'd only gotten to finish one) van's favorite foods were still in the fridge and her clothes were scattered across their bedroom and in unfolded laundry baskets. the house was back to being empty. she was back to being alone.

cleaning things up felt wrong so she didn't. not yet. the messes that were left were supposed to be there and taissa would deal with it when she was ready. she felt more of anger more then anything else, holding herself back from calling her former best friend in a fit of rage. this wasn't supposed to happen, none of it was. so instead she just sits on the couch, debating if she can watch a movie in van's memory. she doesn't even have time to really think about it until she hears an all too familiar voice that moves her out of her thoughts.

Everything happened for a reason, right? Nothing happened just because or else what was the point behind anything? Those were the questions that passed through her mind in those last few minutes. Before the curtain fell and her life came to an end. It reminded her of the night the wolves attacked when they'd gone in search of help. The piercing grip of teeth sinking into flesh was mirrored in the way cold steel of the knife sunk into her chest. Except this time, Taissa, Misty, and the others weren't there to fight the wolves off. No, no one had saved her this time.

And apparently that's how it was supposed to go. They still weren't too sure what their younger self had meant by it all. They wished they had revealed what the bigger picture was, what the whole fucking purpose of them surviving the plane crash, the wolves, literally all of it just to grow up and wind up with cancer. Which should have killed them, but no. Their friend, who they had mourned because she was supposed to be dead, killed her. Deep down, Van knew that both of them wouldn't be allowed to live. That it was kill or be killed, but that didn't make it suck any less.

Because it did. It sucked ass! They thought maybe they'd go spend whatever days or weeks they had left with the love of their life. Maybe on a beach, in a fancy hotel overlooking the ocean, or at home with Taissa. It didn't matter so long as she wasn't alone in the end. But she had been, however, that hadn't been the shittiest part of it. No. What sucked the most was the fact that she had spent so long not with her girl. That it had been the other one, the one who deep down terrified the living shit out of her and had for quite sometime. And she was stupid to not have noticed sooner, to have gone as long as she had not realizing it wasn't really Tai.

Not until that day. Moments before her curtain call came. Because all it took was one look into those eyes she loved the most. She saw her girl looking back at her for the first time in whoever the hell knew how long. And even though she knew there was always going to be one last look, one last kiss, and one last I love you, she hadn't thought it'd be that day.

However, since there wasn't exactly a fucking guide book on what to expect when the end came, their lasts weren't really their lasts. Maybe in a physical since, yes, but when Taissa came into view, their home, eyes watered as a sad smile slipped into place. "I know, baby..." they whispered, arm draped along the back of the couch, head tilted to look at her, finding this moment so strange yet so familiar. "And you better miss me. Forever and ever," they joked, half chuckle mixed with a sigh leaving them.