Author's Note: This ficlet is based on the song "These Streets" by Bastille. It takes place about a year after the book ends. I don't own anything.

Edit: I don't know what the hecki happened with the actual thing when I first published this, so I hope it works now.

eleanor

Eleanor groaned as her alarm clock went off. No matter how many times she had to do it, she would never get used to hitting the stupid thing until it finally shut up. Shat up? Whatever.

She sat up in bed, pushing her messy red hair out of her face. What day is it? she thought. Yesterday was...Thursday, right? Or was it Friday? She looked at the calendar on the opposite wall, squinting to see the small numbers and boxes.Ugh, yesterday was Friday. I woke up early for nothing. Stupid fucking alarm clock.

She slumped back onto her bed, pulled her blanket over her head, and tried to fall back asleep. She used to hate weekends. They were days without Park…

Stop thinking about him, she mentally scolded herself. But she couldn't.

These streets of yours, you can keep them

Park, with his green eyes and his black hair.

I don't want them

Park, with his music and comic books.

They pull me back and I surrender

Park, with his black clothes and eyeliner.

To the memories I run from

Park, with his Impala that he never really learned to drive.

Oh we have paved these streets

Park, with his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

With moments of defeat

Park, never wanting to say goodbye.

But even if we won't admit it to ourselves, we'll

Walk upon these streets and think of little elves

She couldn't go back to him. Even if she wanted to.

So I won't show my face here anymore

Especially since she wanted too.

I won't show my face here anymore

She groaned again and turned to lie on her other side.

park

"Park!" his mother called from his doorway. "Up, Park! Breakfast!"

Park grumbled something along the lines of "five more minutes."

"Okay," his mom said, her accent thick. "Up soon, Park."

He grumbled again and sat up when he heard her walk away. He rubbed his eyes until his hands got tired, then looked around his room. His window displayed a beautiful cloudy day, or maybe it was just the morning fog. He thought he saw someone with red hair walk down the street outside. But he looked closer and realized her hair was more auburn than red, and she was wearing a pink crop-top.

Eleanor hated crop-tops.

Eleanor…

These streets of yours, you can keep them

Eleanor, with her black-hole eyes and crazy red hair.

In my mind it's like you haunt them

Eleanor, with her hate of makeup.

And passing through, I think I see you

Eleanor, with her scarves and huge shirts and necklaces.

In the shapes of other women

Eleanor, with her books covered with songs she's never heard.

Oh we have stained these walls

Eleanor, with her attitude and rare, beautiful smiles.

With our mistakes and flaws

Eleanor, ruining everything.

But even if we won't admit it to ourselves, we'll

Walk upon these streets and think of little elves

He couldn't drive there to her. Even if he wanted to.

So, I won't show my face here anymore

Especially since he wanted to.

I won't show my face here anymore

He groaned again and flopped back onto his bed.

eleanor

Green eyes haunted her dreams. All the details of him she remembered were clutched close to her heart. Far away, fading, painful memories…but beautiful memories nonetheless.

All that's left behind

His sunlight-honey hands, linked with hers on the bus…

Is a shadow on my mind

How had she forgotten the exact words he said to her before they kissed?

park

Red hair flew through his dreams. Every detail he remembered her was clutched close to his heart. Far away, fading, painful memories, but beautiful memories nonetheless.

A shadow cast upon the wall

Her soft, freckled hands, linked with his on the bus…

A silhouette and nothing more

How had he forgotten the exact color of her lips?

That is all that's left behind

eleanor

She eventually rolled out of bed. She saw the pile of records in the corner…had he ever listened to the Beatles?

But even if we won't admit it to ourselves, we'll

Walk upon these streets and think of little elves

park

He eventually rolled out of bed. His Walkman lay on top of his stereos…had she ever listened to the Misfits?

So, I won't show my face here anymore

Had she ever let him listen to the Beatles?

I won't show my face here anymore

eleanor

"Just stop, Eleanor," she whispered to herself.

I won't show my face here anymore

park

"Just stop, Park," he reminded himself.

I won't show my face here anymore