݁❀₊lia⋆𐙚 ˖°

“zayne?” you call, throwing yourself towards the pile, scraped skin burning and heart searing in adrenaline. your legs ache, your chest burns, but—

“zayne?” you’re gulping, throat dry and brain flushing cold when you see tufts of black hair. you fling yourself onto your knees, hands scavenging and trying desperately to pull apart brick to find him.

you huffed, squinting at him. “well, i’m obligated to work on days where i’m not the birthday boy. so. bad zaynie.”

he chuckled lightly, strands of black swaying gently with each shake. you relented and grinned back, parting your legs to allow him to slot between them; your arms reached out first, his head nestled against your shoulder second, and the familiarity of being in one another’s embrace settled into your bones.

hot, torn hands unbury more, all your weight shifts into every bit of strength you have left.

he’s there. he’s there?

is he really there? he couldn’t be.

that’s not him.

is it?

and yet you keep digging.

gravel digs beneath your nails, and finally you see him. your hands are rushed and, patting over his chest and neck and head as you drag him closer, hold him harder.

his head rests delicately against your lap.

there’s blood matted in his hair, an open gash spills from the side. his face is streaked, his lips stained yet dulled.

“a birthday spent by your side is all i could ask for.” he tilted his head up, shimmering eyes gazing at you so fondly your heart felt stuck in your throat. there’s the ever fleeting thought of: he’s so pretty it’s ridiculous, and then it passes. “can you forgive the birthday boy for making this wish?”

your chest aches in a way that makes you want to sob and scream, fingers reverent as they trail over his sullen cheeks. he’s torn over every inch of skin, and you’re—

you can’t feel him. you can’t feel his evol. you can’t resonate with him.

you hummed, nails lazily scratching over his scalp. you admired the way he melted into your touch, his arms tightening around your waist whilst his head nuzzled against you. with a soft sigh, you’d replied, “i don’t think you’re meant to tell others what your birthday wish is. isn’t that a secret that’s supposed to be kept between the candles and you?”

oh god.

it’s blurry, you can’t see between each ragged sob that tremors. amongst the yell of orders and demands of pulling back from around you comes your own scream, drowning in their voices.

you clutch and clutch, as though your nails will dig in and restart something within zayne.

“i’ve had good luck so far, but i suppose you’re right. i’ll be sure to keep my next wish a secret until we blow the candles out later then.”

and you’d patted his head, in the teasing way you often did when he would relent to your demands. he gave in all too easily at times, not that zayne minded. he was yours for the taking, after all.

tears splash onto his dirtied skin, separating the grime ever so slightly. splotches cover his marred flesh, and he still doesn’t look up at you.

he doesn’t reach up to wipe them away, he doesn’t peak open an eye and claim it was a prank.

and that’s when the reality of it truly sets in, gripping you tightly and shaking you back and forth with each rock you do.

he’s jostled ever so slightly on your lap from the motion.

he moves only when you do.

in the stillness of the kitchen, with hints of floral tea and sugared kisses peppered into his hair, your mind still took a guess at what his next wish would be later that evening.

you had a feeling it wasn’t all too different from his first.

to never see him smile, to never taunt him for his love of sweets, to never smack him and be scolded for it, to never win him over with cute antics, to never watch him attempt to befriend a cat or feed clopidogrel or attend another concert together or feel his skin on yours or attend a lecture you didn’t understand or reflect back on your youth together.

oh god.

you couldn’t—

he—

you—

it takes the both of you to do those things together.

“zayne… please.”

a/n: blame the song, not me 🙏🏽 also is anyone else excited for his bday card :p i’m so happy it’s gonna be combat medic zayne! though i may have ruined that for someone here…

explore the peachieverse with me.

“maybe another time? i just don’t feel like it right now,” you reply, “ill text you later, okay?” you say quietly, hanging up before he can question you.

two minutes later there’s a knock on your door, you answer with red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. xavier feels his heart break in his chest as he hands you your favorite candy.

“you know being outside for even 10 minutes helps boost your mood?” his small sheepish smile makes your lips twitch upwards slightly.

the two of you sit together quietly on your balcony, not saying anything as the sun warms up your skin.

“the weather is really nice,” you finally say, eyes shifting around the cityscape as you stare over your balcony, xavier smiles at your words.

xavier smells like fresh laundry. the smell of his laundry detergent and cologne permeate your bedsheets and throw blankets after he’s been over. it makes you miss him even more when he’s not with you.

after a long day you find yourself seeking out his scent, inhaling the lingering smell that is uniquely xavier on his side of your bed. you pout as the hole in your heart isn’t filled, reaching over and sending him an ‘i miss you’ text. he’s by your side in seconds.

you don’t hesitate to throw your arms around him, shoving your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in deeply. he smells like himself, he smells like home. your mind stops racing and your heartbeat settles into a familiar rhythm. your lips turn upwards as they meet his.

“missed you angel eyes,” you whisper, cuddling further into him, letting his entire body engulf you.

“i did too, starlight,” he mumbles back, placing a kiss to the top of your head, strong arms wrapping around you securely.

xavier was your breath of fresh air, always there when you needed him most.

masterlist

Swallowing his pride and love, he stepped away for the next decade. Seeing you grow and change, your visits to his grave lessened from every day, to every week, to now only visiting him twice a year. Caleb wish he could say he had moved on, but he knew his heart would always be with the girl who had cried to him about falling over in the dirt. The girl who had kissed his cheek at graduation. The girl who never loved him back like he had loved her.

Now he was standing there, in the open field, dressed appropriately to not draw attention, surrounding by loud wedding guests. Sipping on the cold water, eyes burning holes into the back of your head, the pretty veil you wore, and the way your hair had been done for your special day.

Yours and Zayne’s wedding day.

“MR & MRS LI” the sign outside had read, with a gorgeous painting of you and your soon to be husband below the text. You were smiling in the painting, the pastels beautifully pulling attention to your eyes and lips, while Zayne was leaning over, smiling and kissing your jaw.

The pen you had gifted him on his final exam day in highschool felt heavy in his pocket. The colonel carried mementos of his long lost love wherever he went, whether it be a necklace, ring, or pen. His mechanical arm had almost moved without the effort, wanting to scribble Zayne’s face out of the picture.

He didn’t recognise any of the guests, thankfully. He hadn’t seen you in person in over a decade, and he didn’t want to ruin the wedding by making you recognise a dead man’s face.

So he sipped on his wine and watched. Eyes glued to the prettiest woman in the hall, and head full of running thoughts.

He wanted to be happy for you, he really did. Just to finally relax and smile, knowing his childhood sweetheart had finally found her love. Her husband, the man who’d take care of her for the rest of her life. He wanted so badly to rip the longing for you out of his chest, to rip it out of his bloody heart and bury it with his grave.

Yet it was always there, always lingering. His lips wanting to press against your, his hands wanting to hold your waist, his eyes wanting to be the only thing you would ever need to look for.

Your eyes didn’t meet the purple irises of his, yours looked for the hazel green ones of your husband.

He hadn’t cried for you in a while, but hearing your vows made his chest squeeze uncomfortably. The chip was supposed to push down these lingering feelings, but they still bubbled up. His eyes stinging with tears, reddening the white, making him press his plush lips together as he sniffled.

“Since the day we met on the playground, I’ve known that I would always love you. That you’d steal my heart away, and I hoped you would never give it back.” You spoke, crying with a sweet smile over your lips. As Zayne chuckled and took a tissue to your cheeks gently.

Caleb’s heart lurched, he was the one who was supposed to be marrying you.

“When we get big, you’ll marry me and buy me pretty dresses, won’t you?” 6 year old you had asked Caleb on the way to school, holding his hand tightly when he pressed your bucket hat down on your head. Hoping the wind wouldn’t blow it away.

“Yeah, lots of pretty dresses!” Caleb had happily agreed at that time. Not knowing that the heart he had been stitching to his, would be stolen away with just a mere glance. That the boy who you’d push over by accident in the playground would steal you away from him.

“I still had Caleb to rely on when you and I drifted apart for some time.. and… you were the one who was there for me when he died.” You sniffled and gasped at the broken sob.

‘I should’ve been there. I should’ve kept you safe.’ Caleb thought, glaring at you on the stage.

“You’ve always been the one to hold my hand and tell me that everything would be alright, that you’d love me even if heaven and hell flipped.”

‘I would kill for you. Then and now.’

“Thank you for making me yours,” you sniffled finally.

‘I’ve always been yours, you should’ve been mine.’

He hadn’t listened to Zayne’s vows, his eyes glued to your face. Imagining him in front of you, knowing he would’ve made the wedding exactly how you would’ve wanted it in your childhood. He knew you best, Zayne didn’t. You wanted a Ophelia’s, not tulips. You wanted a big diamond on the ring, not just some engraved gold band. You wanted him as your husband, not Zayne.

Deep in his heart, he knew he was lying to himself. Your eyes had never looked at him the way they had looked at Zayne’s.

He had watched the wedding kiss with a heavy heart. Hands itching to be the one holding you instead, the one kissing you, the one crying about his never ending love for you. Yet here he was, in the crowd of guests, not the one marrying you.

His wedding gift had been placed between the large pile of other ones. His was in a small envelope, a small letter. No name, no stamp, only four words.

“I’m happy for you.”

He had walked out after the kiss, being able to slip past the guests and leave unnoticed. Leaving his heart in your hands, knowing he’d never get it back. He’d never be coming back to retrieve it anyways.

Your last meeting being at your wedding day was romantic in its own way. He would always love you, and that was enough for him. You’d probably have kids one day, naming one of them after him if he was lucky. If his love got to live on in your heart, he wouldn’t complain.

Your eyes had glanced over at the large doors for a split second, seeing the flash of brown hair. The smile on your lips has flickered, a wave of unease washing over you, before you forced yourself to turn back to your husband. Maybe the ghost of Caleb would always watch over you.

Caleb had hesitated when he was leaving the large wedding venue, stopping just a few steps past the easel that had the painting of you and Zayne.

It was just a small change, something he promised would be the only time he’d ever mess with your life again. His human hand moving quickly, crossing out Zayne’s face. A small sliver of a smile grazing over his lips when he drew a small heart near your face.

Yes, he had been yours, but you were never his.