none of my wips are cooperating so i thought i'd write something to help. based on the anon prompt of "things you said that i wish you hadn't"
x
Inevitability was a terrible thing, you think.
You've always hated things you couldn't change, couldn't get out of. That something was so certainly going to happen makes you uneasy, anxious. It's even worse when it includes your personal relationships, as it does now.
You knew it was coming, knew it was always going to come. You also know there isn't anything you can do about it.
At least, nothing you're willing to do.
Your gaze trails over the sleeping form next to you, over every little detail you already have memorised in your mind. You reach a hand out, the pads of your fingers tracing mindless patterns against soft skin as you muse on the inevitable.
Erik had arrived fourteen days ago, his eyes bloodshot, a poorly stitched wound running down his arm, and a bag slung over his shoulder. You hadn't asked, hadn't said anything, really. You'd just nodded, your lips tilting upwards in a small smile, and opened the door.
It's what the two of you do, after all.
The fourteen days had passed quickly, far, far too quickly for your liking, but you don't bother arguing with it. You can't change time.
You'd spent most of the time in bed, a blur of sensations in places you didn't normally feel, of caresses and murmurs that made your heart warm and ache simultaneously.
The body under your hand stirs, and you smile as eyes flutter open. "'Morning," Erik mumbles, voice groggy with sleep.
He looks beautiful like that, you think. Auburn hair shining bright in the morning light, strands falling in front of tired blue-grey eyes you've long since fallen in love with. He moves to sit up, your bed sheets pooling around his waist the way they always do.
"Good morning, darling," you reply, accepting the kiss he leans forward to give you.
Watching on as he gets out of bed, you know it won't be long now.
You stay in bed when he turns to get ready, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you listen to the running water of the shower. It's always like this; you know it will always be like this.
You don't say anything when he emerges from the shower, dressed in more clothes than he's worn the entire time he's been here with you.
"Do you want me to make you tea?"
Shaking your head, you say, "I'll do it in a bit."
He nods wordlessly, turning to pick up the already packed bag. You swallow when he turns back to you, as if to remove the emotion making its way through your body, up your throat.
He moves towards you, lips tilted in a sad smile that matches your own, and reaches a hand out to cup your cheek. You lean into the touch, the gentle pressure of his hand a comfort you'll never be able to describe.
You kiss him back when he kisses you, your eyes closing lest he see the burning sadness behind them.
He always leaves on the fourteenth day. You don't know why you think it'll be different now.
"Goodbye," Erik says, voice a quiet whisper against your temple, and you wish he hadn't bothered saying anything at all.