So I know I should be writing my other story, which I will get around to eventually…but for now here's a quick drabble I wrote. I originally made this for a novel I've been writing, but I decided not to kill the character it was about, and figured with a few changes I could make it into a one-shot. This is close to the style I'm writing my novel in (it's a post-apocalyptic novel), so any constructive criticism would be GREATLY appreciated.
This is written in Mal's PoV by the way.
My memory of you isn't reliable anymore. But I promise; I have not forgotten.
I always forget the little things. It sounds horrible, doesn't it? Forgetting someone you love after only three days. But it really isn't. I've been forgetting a lot of things lately. It's like when you forget to do the laundry some days, or when you forget to close a window at night and wake up freezing cold.
Only now I'm forgetting the little things about you. The exact color of your eyes. What exactly your shampoo smells like. Your scars and how you got them. I can't remember the face you made when you greeted me that fateful morning, but I can remember your words to me as you climbed in my car to go to work. A simple, insignificant greeting. You didn't know that morning would be your last. You didn't know that it would be your finally greeting to me. If you did, I don't know what you would have said. I'm not quite sure what I would have said either.
But I haven't forgotten you, not yet. I still remember the things I should, the things that really matter. I remember your birthday. I remember your greatest fears and aspirations. I can remember seeing you at your best and at your worst; and most importantly, I can remember how much I loved your through both.
I can remember the day of your wedding, standing at the door of my apartment, your lips on mine as I felt that shuttering breath you always make when you're nervous. I can remember what your silky hair felt like as it slipped between my fingers, how your skin felt so much warmer than mine. I can remember the scent of your perfume and how much I never ever wanted to let go of you.
There are some things I will never forget, some things I won't allow to slip away like warm breath on a chilly morning. I will never forget how my heart skipped whenever I saw you. I will never forget how breathtakingly beautiful you are; both inside and out. I will never forget the time you stood by me in San Trobia, or the way your eyes looked as you analyzed the world around you. I will never forgot how much I'll miss your hair in my face, or the way your lips felt on mine.
I miss those days; every hour, every minute, every second. I miss every moment I spent with you, and regret every moment I didn't. I wish I hadn't lost you in the blink of an eye; in the sound of that gunshot that penetrated the silence of that lazy Sunday afternoon. I wish I didn't have all that time in the future that I'll spend missing you.
I miss the times when I could feel your warm fingers intertwined with mine; the times that hours would melt away until they only felt like minutes. I miss saying goodbye, knowing it wouldn't be long until the next day would come and I could breathe again.
All I can say is that I wish I had more time, but I know all the time in the world wouldn't be enough. If I only knew that morning would be part of the last few hours of your life; I would have loved you like we had the rest of eternity. I would have done something; anything to make your last few hours memorable enough to go beyond the grave. I don't know what, but I would have made it the most spectacular thing that's ever happened to you. Maybe then I could make up for what would happen in just a few hours.
I wish we could have had forever. I wish I could have told you how you made every day a new life for me, and that every time I kissed you it felt like the first time. I wish I could have acted like life wasn't so short, that there was never the possibility that one of us could die at any time. If I could, I would give up my life for one more hour with you. I would give you my heartbeat; slip the rhythm between your ribs until your heart responded. I would take the breath from my lungs and rest them on your lips; waiting for you to breathe.
But I can't. I didn't. Death robbed me of you, and now I'm left here with a thousand "I love you"s hanging on my lips. Your death left me alone, trying to pretend like my hand still doesn't twitch to reach out for yours.
I miss you and everything we had. We were never perfect. We fought. We argued. We would get angry and refuse to talk in anything but a cold tone for days. But we were flawed in the perfect way; constantly reminded that we aren't clones of each other. That we weren't always going to agree; that the other person had a different opinion, and that difference is what made us love each other in the first place.
The funny thing is, it almost feels like nothing happened. All the news of your death felt like was one of those little things that gets away from you and ends up having unimaginable consequences. Sometimes, I still expect you to walk through my door; a smile on your face. There are still mornings when I think I can reach across the bed and feel your warm body curled up next to me.
That gunshot robbed you from more than that day. It robbed you of every hour, every day, every year that should have come after. It robbed me of every second I wanted to spend with you.
And now I'm left here, only one thought on my mind.
I.
Need.
More.
Time.