RUN RABBIT

there was something heartbreaking about the tenderness in his voice, and the way his smile appeared only in his mouth, never quite reaching the lines around his eyes. adelaide understood that well. she wanted to reach out, though she wasn’t sure how, or if she should. instead, she settled on what she did know. “it must be a special memory, for it to come up often.” she shrugged slightly, gaze soft on him. “even if you do not quite realize it.” a sigh escaped her, and she looked away toward the treeline. “when we were younger, and i was bigger than him, i used to pick him up and run around the lake. when i got tired, i would throw us both in.” she laughed then, quiet and fond, the memory warming her face for half a breath. “there was not always a lake, but when there was, it was the same thing each time.” adelaide turned back to him, and the softness in her expression gave way to something more distant. “i wonder if he is still out there. i have not seen him… in a long time.”

the alarm bells that had been going off inside of his head earlier were silent as soon as she stepped forward and pulled him into her embrace. her scent isn't the same and there's no longer a wolf that can be sensed, but peace still washes over him. his shoulders relax as he rests his chin on top of her head, pressing a kiss to her hair. it's weird, being taller than her now, but so much time had passed since he had last seen her - it was bound to happen.

"it's okay. it's okay. we're okay." he's quick to soothe her. even if it wasn't smart, there was no way he was losing her again, not when he had just gotten her back. so many years had been spent mourning the loss of her and their parents. how badly he wished that he had been there, to die alongside his family. instead, he's been haunted ever since.

the kiss to the top of her head made her chest hurt. her heart no longer beat, not unless her veins were full of borrowed blood, but she could feel it then, hammering against her ribs like it still belonged to her. his words were a comfort, even if they couldn’t untangle all the fear inside her. she was dangerous to him – perhaps not now, but then. perhaps not now, but one day. she didn’t know. what she did know was that now that she had him back, she wouldn’t let him go so easily. when he pulled away, her hands rose to press against his cheeks. adelaide smiled weakly, searching his face like she was trying to memorize every part of it. “you look like papa.” such a simple thing, and still it struck her straight through the chest – the set of his brow, his eyes, the shape of a face that had somehow carried pieces of their family forward without her there to see it. she blinked hard against the tears, vulnerability sitting sharp and uncomfortable beneath her skin. a small part of her wondered if her vampiric friend was still there, watching, or if he’d left them to their reunion. the thought of an audience made her anxious, but even that couldn’t pull her fully from roman. her gaze found him again. “i hear you.” her hands dropped, and so did her forehead, resting against his chest like she could anchor herself there. “it is not fair that you are taller now,” she murmured, and another weak laugh slipped out of her. “how dare you grow up.”

Colby's stomach had made a nest in her heels. There was no escaping this. "Maybe I'm saying it because I love you," the blonde argued. "You deserve better than this, Addie. Better than me." She shouldn't get caught in the typhoon that was Colby, and the wave coming to destroy all in her wake. The girl was too special, too good to get hurt by her own inevitable stupidity. All she'd ever do was let her down. "I'm no good, you know it, I know it."

“that is not for you to decide.” adelaide’s voice stayed quiet, but there was steel threaded through it, something steady despite the ache sitting heavy in her chest. she’d spent years running from her demons, from her past, from everything that had been left behind in blood and hunger and grief. it was a miracle that she had found solace in wren at all, and then found roman again, some impossible second chance she had never thought the world would be kind enough to give her. what she hadn’t expected was this – someone who made her feel whole in a way she had long since stopped believing possible. she would be a fool to let that slip through her fingers just because colby had convinced herself she did not belong there. “what i know,” she continued, taking a careful step closer, “is that you have been a light in my life the entire time i’ve known you.” her expression softened then, hurt slipping through despite how hard she tried to keep herself composed. “what have i done to make you think that i do not want you?” a beat passed, her gaze searching her face. “because i do. i want you here. i want you with me.”

consistency wasn't something roman knew. even now, settled into a place he had decided to call home years ago - he knew better than to get too comfortable. something would happen. someone would find him. and then he'd have to run again. at least when it had happened when he was a child, he had his sister. now, he had no one.

it makes sense and he hates that it does. he wants to be mad. wants somewhere to place the anger that had been boiling inside of him since his loss. but it was never her fault, was it? if anyone should feel guilty, it's him. he had let him into their home. had trusted him, only for it to be spit back into his face. roman never made that mistake again.

addie. she hadn’t been called addie in a long, long time. the sound of it hit somewhere fragile, somewhere buried so deep beneath hunger and death and all the ugly things she’d become that she thought it had rotted away with the rest of her. adelaide closed her eyes and drew in a careful breath, but her face still twisted with emotion before she could stop it.  “i have missed you so, so much,” she said, voice breaking around the shape of it. “i’m sorry.” he took a step closer, and she sucked in another breath before closing the rest of the distance herself, pulling him into her arms. he was taller than her now, and somehow that hurt too – another reminder of all the time they wouldn’t get back, all the years she hadn’t been there to watch him become this version of himself. the itch stirred in her chest, quiet and cruel, but all she could think about was the sound of his heartbeat. he was here. in front of her. alive. she’d never known if he’d managed to escape death that night.  maybe he hadn’t been home, but she hadn’t heard from him. hadn’t seen him. of course, she ran, but the whispers didn't bring his name to her. the fact that they had somehow ended up in the orbit of the same person felt impossible, almost merciful. perhaps there was some being out there that did wish for them to have a second chance. her fingers caught tightly in the fabric of his shirt, tears soaking into it as she shook her head. “i’m sorry,” she whispered. “i shouldn’t have left you.”