She couldn't believe it.
Her jaw dropped.
Her eyes widened.
After all those years of being silent.
Unreachable.
Gone.
She thought he was dead.
But she guessed not.
There was no other explanation of why he was standing right in front of her.
Casually leaning against the fire hydrant.
With a girl that she didn't know.
Her breath caught in her throat and she clenched her fists.
She swallowed.
How could he be right now, laughing?
When everyone at home mourned over his death?
How could he leave them?
Her hands began to tremble.
And the sick feeling of oh-gosh-I'm-about-to-cry-god-dammnit hit her in the face and it was like her chest is full of sand.
How?
Why?
She clenched her fists.
Oh god, stop stop stop stop STOP.
"Puck?" she squeaked involuntarily.
Her voice sounded surprised.
And scared, betrayed.
He turned to face her; his eyes widened.
He hadn't changed at all.
Same unruly hair.
Same emerald green eyes.
Same mischievous smirk.
Same light in his eyes that made her fall in love with him.
But he had a girlfriend.
"Sabrina?" Puck said.
She could hear the excitement in his voice.
And a hint of dread.
He rushed toward her, hugging her.
She hugged him back, feeling numb.
He smiled at her, and she bravely smiled back.
She couldn't speak, couldn't think.
Her mind was spools of yarn, red blue green yellow purple, all tangled up.
Someone, please, unwind her.
She could tell he was making talk.
Trying to sound as casual as possible.
Leaving their bare chance at love in the past.
He asked about how the family was.
Oh, she thought, so you haven't forgotten us.
She replied as vaguely as possible, feeling vague and thinking vague and everything about him made her feel vague.
Daphne was going to graduate in a few months.
She was in her third year of college.
Not once did he mention what had happened.
He never said anything about how he disappeared.
After coming back when she was sixteen.
Leaving again.
Not coming back.
Not calling, not writing, not giving them a hint that he was alive, damnit.
It was five years.
She was angry but she couldn't express it.
Her throat constricted.
She couldn't breathe.
It wasn't her who should've been trying to get the questions out.
He should've been explaining.
It was his fault.
All his fucking fault.
How could he just leave them like that, in Ferryport Landing and in the dark?
And in a colorless voice, she asked him a question.
Where were you?
He laughed, but she can see the guilt in his green green eyes.
He was backpacking in Europe.
Vague vague vague.
And he introduced her to his girlfriend.
Finally.
Another question that burned a hole in her chest: WHO IS THAT.
Rowan Amor.
She was pretty, no, she was beautiful.
Wavy brown hair, falling into ringlets.
Like cotton candy, wound up in all the right ways.
Stunning green eyes.
Lighter than his, full of curiosity and skepticism.
Skinny.
Skinnier than she would ever be.
Smooth skin, pink lips, slight figure.
He met her in Paris.
The city of love.
That didn't help the crumbling dust in her chest.
"We should talk more," Puck said. "Want to come to my place?"
Rowan looked sullen in the back, like they'd had plans that had just been canceled.
As much as Sabrina would have liked to see that pretty face glare, she couldn't ignore the gaping breaths she took or the burning fire in her lungs.
"No," she said quickly. "See you later."
Sabrina ran off in the other direction.
She didn't know where she was going.
She could hear the girl's sweet voice, saying something in a disappointed and upset tone.
Not like she gave a pretty face about it.
She ran until her legs gave up on her.
And she thought to herself, if my legs can't carry me no longer, who will?
And she stumbled and collapsed on the ground.
And the dust in her chest seemed to be tears.
And they came spilling out of her eyes.
She was a mess.
And ugly mess, someone who would never compare to Rowan.
She was Sabrina Grimm.
Leader who destroyed the Scarlet Hand.
The cold-hearted leader with an iron heart.
And she was always a broken girl.
And Rowan wasn't.
And when she thought back to that brief moment when she laid eyes on her her, she died again.
His laugh, with her.
His arm, around her.
His love, to her.
Who knew that the childish fairy she had met seven years ago, could love?
Love a girl from Paris?
Love a girl who looked so beautiful and proper?
How could he love that girl?
He, a fairy, loved a human girl.
And he was a fairy that she loved.
But she didn't know that she was in love.
And now it came crashing down upon her.
The chance she had missed with him.
How could she realize now, only to find him taken away from her?
SHE LOVED HIM.
And she just noticed.
SHE WAS IN LOVE.
With him.
A boy.
A fairy.
The bane of her existence.
A sob escaped her mouth.
Tears ran down her face.
Cold tears.
Her breath quaked.
After a few minutes, she got up.
Wiping her face.
Fixing her hair.
People have been shooting her looks.
She was a mess.
Unlike Rowan.
The sky rumbled.
The clouds overhead were dark.
Sabrina let out a shriek.
It sounded like a wounded animal.
And it began to drizzle.
Then pour.
Sabrina began to scream.
"PUCK!
I HATE YOU!
BUT I FUCKING LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH."
Every drop felt like world.
It felt as if each drop weighed a hundred pounds.
The rain was bullets, shooting her down, trying to kill her.
And she decided to let them.
She fell onto her knees.
Every drop like bullets.
Made of iron.
And fire.
She couldn't even tell if she was crying anymore.
The only sign she received was the salt in her mouth.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
She whipped it out angrily.
It was Puck.
Asking her where she was.
That it was raining and if she'd made it home.
A shriek tore from Sabrina's throat.
Angrily, she threw her phone across the street.
The phone shattered.
And she thought if she looked like that.
She was trembling.
Was she trembling from the cold or from the pain inside?
"What the hell, Grimm?" a voice shouted.
Oh, his voice sounded like glory and glass.
And he was there.
Running towards her.
Holding her broken phone.
Blood dripping from his fingers.
leave leave leAVe leave LEAve LeaVe LEAve LeAvE LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE.
He knelt beside her.
"What's wrong, Grimm?"
Oh, don't you dare say my name again.
"You!" Sabrina shouted. "YOU DUMBASS."
Puck blinked, looking confused.
She let out something like a laugh and a sob.
She still loved that look on his face.
"I bet you don't even know how many days how long Daphne cried.
Or how many times Granny Relda held your flute.
Or how many days I wondered where the fuck you were.
I BET YOU DON'T KNOW.
HOW LONG I WAITED.
I KNEW YOU WEREN'T DEAD I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT.
AND THE WHOLE TIME, YOU WERE BACKPACKING IN PARIS WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND.
YOU SELFISH SELFISH SELFISH SELFISH BASTARD."
Puck's eyes widened and he knelt beside her.
He seemed unsure of what to do.
He didn't hug her that for that she was thankful.
"'Brina," Puck said quietly.
"What?" Sabrina sobbed.
"I-I...I'm a coward."
"I know," she whispered, her voice more than a broken crack.
"I-I...I'm an idiot."
"I know," she growled.
"I-I...I still fucking love you."
She wept into her cold hands. "Me too."
Because she was the one in his arms.