A/N: so one of my old gifsets picked up a couple of notes yesterday (i happened to have an early coldplay song on when i saw it, naturally) and it served as a lovely reminder of all the pain this otp will forever cause me!
thus, my hands slipped and this happened.
"And when the world treats you way too fairly, well, it's a shame I'm a dream."
All I Wanted, Paramore
He's not sure just how much of a comfort it is to keep dreaming of her.
Every time he closes his eyes, she's right there. Running right ahead of him, dark hair streaming out behind her as her gentle, carefree laughter echoes in his ears. She's only just within touching distance and when his fingers brush hers, he feels nothing but air. It's like she's transparent, his hand slipping through what looks like her skin and reminding him that no matter how hard he tries, he can't pull her back to him.
It's then that with a gasp, he finds himself awake in a cold sweat and her desk being the very first thing he lays his eyes upon.
That same desk, where he'll never glance over to find her hurriedly hitting her keyboard as she types a report with a furrowed brow.
Where he can't bring back a fresh cup of coffee, just how she likes it, and fully appreciate the relieved smile that lights up her face when he puts it down in front of her.
Make sure you never take the small things for granted, his dad always tells him.
He's overcome by a searing pain so intense that he feels nauseous. He never fully understood the meaning behind these words. At least, not until now.
He has to squeeze his eyes shut, fighting back the flood of memories that's threatening to drown him in nothing but her.
Damn, Dad, he almost whispers out loud to himself. Why the hell did you have to be right?
