Hey everyone-
So, I've decided to write something about Ryan coping with Marissa's death. It might be a one-shot, it might develop into a Ryan/Taylor thing, I don't know. Realize though, even if it does end up being "Rylor," I will forever be a Ryan/Marissa fan at heart-the reason why I felt the need to write this. Tell me what you think-leave it, expand it, anything. Thanks for reading
He didn't want to sleep, to watch her image flutter across the inside of his eyelids. Daytime was a reliable distracter, the blaze of the Newport sun blinding him from his thoughts. Slowly, he was finding peace in the aftermath, learning how to trudge through her absence. But in the nighttime, his eyes betrayed him.
Her knuckles clasp the doorknob, and he watches as her graceful figure unfolds from the shadowy night. She looks like burnt snow, her skin toasted white and shining softly.
"Marissa…"
Ryan looks up from his book, leaning forward into the tunnel of her sapphire eyes. He questions her presence before him, feels his lungs squeezing tightly against his chest. Then she smiles, a beautiful smile, and walks soundlessly toward the bed.
She looks untouchable. She has always looked untouchable.
"Ryan," she breathes, sitting on the deep violet covers. Her body does not create a single ripple through the sheets.
"Marissa. Marissa."
His voice wavers desperately as he pulls himself upright from the pillows. She stares at his pleading face, her smile breaking him into a silent hysteria.
"Oh, God," he whispers. "Oh God, I miss you."
Tears swell in his eyes, until his face scrunches into a blistering sadness that sets fire to the clear water.
"I miss you so much."
She leans into him, her arms placed on the bed right beside his waist. She is inches away, but her body is still separated from his, and it stirs a yearning that drops like pin needles into his chest.
"Please come back to me. Please."
Her cold hand cups his cheek, gingerly, and the connection sends him ablaze. His tears roll across her fingers, helplessly and ceaselessly falling.
"Please…please…"
She disappears in silence, the touch of her hand still imprinted on the ruddy surface of his face.
"Please," he utters, and rolls his head into the damp, forgiving pillows.