A/N: For the lovely Uni. I hope you enjoy, dear. Sorry it's so short, but my muse was being difficult.

i.

She sits on the bench, eyes fixed on the road in the distance. The road that could lead her away if she so chose.

Her trainers are laced, tied in double knots. She could run. God, she could run so far away and never look back, never regret leaving all this shit in her dust.

Naomi climbs to her feet, taking a deep breath. One foot in front of the other, and she could leave this fucking little town behind. She could find her destiny elsewhere, follow her dreams in another postal code. Just one step is all it would take.

But she doesn't follow the road out. She slings her bag over her shoulder, turning her back on the path to freedom and returning home.

ii.

Emily's lips are heavy on hers, working desperately like the kiss is everything she cannot say.

Naomi knows that she should run. Nothing good can come from kissing Emily Fitch.

But her heart is racing in her chest, almost painfully, and something keeps her there.

It's just the drugs, she thinks to herself. Just the drugs and nothing else. Tomorrow, this will be just a funny story to tell.

She's vaguely aware of a door opening, but she's too lost, her mind too blurred to care.

"What the fuck are you doing to my sister! Get off her, you lezzer!"

Before Naomi can register what's happening, hands grip her shoulders, pulling her away. In Emily's place is an a much angrier carbon copy.

"I-"

"Come on, Em," Katie says with a nasty look, grabbing her sister by the arm and pulling her away before Naomi can defend herself. "We're going."

Emily obediently follows along, head down and mumbled apologies spilling from her lips.

Naomi slumps against the wall with a groan.

She really should have run.

iii.

The moment she steps into the school's hallway, Naomi feels that overwhelming desire to run away again. It's becoming second nature to her. Always wanting to run away, to escape to somewhere, even if she doesn't know where.

Anywhere but here.

And then it starts.

"She tried to snog my sister at a party once."

Naomi can feel eyes watching her, judging her. She is (slightly) innocent, but they will never know that. They will only see what they want to see.

A freak. A predator. A girl who tries to get off on unsuspecting girls at parties.

With a scowl to show that she doesn't care, she ducks through the crowd, roughly pushing her way through the sea of whispering bodies.

iv.

So be brave and want me back.

Naomi wishes Emily's words didn't echo so loudly inside her head. At least not those words. Any words but those.

Tears streak her face, and she hates herself for letting it get to her like this.

She knows that she shouldn't care, but that doesn't stop her from crashing her knuckles against her bedroom wall.

Want me back.

Naomi does want her. Maybe a part of her has always wanted her since that kiss. But she'd wanted to run even more, and, for the first time, she had given in to that desire.

She has run away. Now she wonders if the road goes both ways and if she can run back to Emily.

v.

"I don't want to leave," Naomi admits.

Effy perches on the edge of the hospital bed, an almost smile on her lips. "Shut up. You're not going anywhere."

Naomi groans. Once, Effy wouldn't have bothered with false hope. She wonders if losing Freddie has warped her brain. Grief does that to people.

Will her death do the same to Emily?

"I always wanted to run away, you know," Naomi says, leaning back, her head sinking into the pillows.

"So have I."

"And I ran away at the wrong time."

A small laugh. "So did I."

"But I don't want to this time."

Effy takes her hand. It should be Emily beside her, but company is company, and Naomis supposes she can't complain. "You're not running."

"Can't run even if I wanted to," Naomi says with a forced laugh, her free hand gesturing towards the bed for emphasis. "That'd be a sight."

"Sleep," Effy says, squeezing her hand before letting go.

vi.

Emily kneels beside the still fresh grave, tears in her eyes. She leans forward, resting her cheek against the cold marble that marks Naomi's final resting place.

"Come back," she whispers into the air, though she knows her words won't do any good. "Please, come back. For me."

She doesn't know how long she stays there, clutching the stone for dear life. Seconds, minutes, hours. Time loses all meaning.

But when she climbs to her feet again and wipes away the tears, she feels the sudden urge to run.