Domino Effect

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans.

Hey, guys! So this is my first foray into the Teen Titans fandom and my first time writing fanfiction in a really long time. I love Rob/Star just as much as I love Red X/Star, but the archive is seriously lacking stories about the latter, so I thought I should add my own.

This story will be a collection of oneshots and drabbles because I can't, for the life of me, stick to writing one story without getting distracted with ideas for another one. Red X will eventually have a backstory, but I won't say anything now because I don't want to give anything away.

I hope you guys like the first chapter. Feel free to tell me what you think.

Heartbreak

There wasn't much that she remembered about the day he broke her heart. The memories swirled in her mind like a kaleidoscope – all blurred shapes and jagged fragments, only a chaotic patchwork of what really happened.

She remembered that the sky had stretched endlessly in a smooth, unbroken expanse, a brilliant blue backdrop for the feathery white clouds that hung directly overhead. She remembered meditating with Raven on the roof that morning, enjoying the gentle whispering gusts of the salty sea air as they sat side by side in amicable silence. She remembered the argument that had broken out over lunch between Cyborg's and Beast Boy's respective food preferences and how they had settled the matter by deciding to order pizza when she volunteered to cook for them her favorite Tamaranean dish.

She remembered the weather had been flawless on that day, too. In the various movies she had seen with her friends, the weather was always dreary, wet, and miserable on the day something monumentally horrible happened. The skies were meant to open up and pour sadness upon the broken earth. The wind was meant to rattle the glass windows, bitterly piercing fragile skin and soul. The lighting was meant to scream and illuminate the utter hopelessness of the world.

And yet the sun was still shining, birds were still singing, and children were still laughing. It was as though the rest of the world was mocking her with their smiles and cheer as they remained oblivious to her pain.

She remembered this. She remembered how his somber expression had the same effect as a massive rain cloud swallowing up the sun; her elation upon seeing him had deflated in a second just like that, turned into dread and discomfort. She remembered how his eyes had earnestly pleaded without words, how his shoulders had slumped with apology, reluctant and determined at the same time. How he had done it gently, regretfully, nervously.

What she didn't remember was what he said or why he was breaking up with her (Something about him not being ready, wasn't it? About how it was too soon?). Every word that came out of his mouth had been silent, incomprehensible, falling upon deaf ears – unable to be heard over the final, empty thud of grief inside her and the tiny crash as her heart shattered into a thousand miniscule pieces of heartbreak. The shards rained down inside her, cutting against the pain and resentment.

But she hadn't fought, hadn't protested. She accepted it all – every word, every blow, every strike to her heart – with a bowed head.

She didn't remember, but she understood. Whatever his reasons were, she knew she should have seen this coming, knew she should have expected this. A part of her, hidden away deep down in a place she allowed no one to see, had always known that they couldn't have lasted.

It had been doomed to fall since the beginning. They were just too different – she wore her heart on her sleeve, he hid behind his mask. He would never open up to truly let her in. It had been foolish of her to think that he would.

She didn't remember what she said back or how she had even left him. She knew she must have flown away somehow, but how she even managed to lift herself more than an inch above the ground in her state, she didn't know. Her next conscious moment was when she found herself sitting on the edge of the rooftop of a skyscraper building with her fingers trembling, her cheeks wet, and her vision blurry.

She didn't know how long she sat here, either, but it was twilight now. The sky was a canvas of red and purple and orange, ribbons of gold and dusky blue. There wasn't so much as a breath of wind – the ocean still as glass, reflecting the watercolor sky and the Tower standing sentinel over it all, and the silvery moon was just rising in the east as the dying sun faded in the west.

Had she not been so occupied with thoughts of him, she would have marveled at the sight.

But he was all she could think about. She tried not to think about it, tried not to think about the way it felt to tuck her hand within his, the way his chest would rise and fall against her when she leaned in for an embrace, the steady thud of his heart next to her own, the feeling of content and safety she felt by simply being near him. . . .

And that was all it took. Before she knew it, a fresh wave of tears was rolling down her cheeks, and her body was shaking as she tried to suppress the heaving sobs that were rising inside her throat. She hated herself for it, hated to be the kind of girl who would cry over a boy. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hold back the barrage of sobs that were breaking against her chest, and before long her hands were sopping wet from salty tears.

She should have known that it was too good to be true. How could she have been so naïve, to think that life could truly be that perfect? He never cared, not as much as she did for him. She would be the only one to carry this burden. She alone would be the one to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.