you told me you loved me (so why did you walk away)
note1 i'll be updating this here and there with short drabbles
note2 oh god i'm obsessed with the idea of vanessa and zay
note3 otp: i'd buy you a house
listening nothing lol
summary i'll be alright, just not after tonight —vanessa/zay
.
.
.
Do you remember me? she asks with her head titled, messy strands falling into her eyes. A light smile plays on her lips, tentative, cautious, unsure, scared.
Does he remember? The sleepless nights, waiting for her calls but never calling her. The two-times-a-week emails, spending hours on each one, backspacing and going forward just to write i love you twenty-seven times before falling asleep at the computer. Those visits once a year, the ones he said he wouldn't fly out for but did anyway, gathering her in his arms and breathing in her scent, kissing her passionately because who knows when he would see her next. The perfect scores on his last few reports, throwing himself into his work like a machine because no, he stopped feeling when she stopped calling and coming and caring.
He swallows. No.
(It's easy to lie, now that three years have passed and left them, us, we as a distant memory. It's a blatant lie but her smile falls, he knows she's trying to keep it together, he's trying to keep it together, but how can they when there's that dull throb in the back of their hearts? Somewhere unreachable, somewhere unmendable, somewhere where it hurts the most. Of course i remember, he could say, but what's the point? Memories are funny things, he starts to think. Stops himself halfway through before those memories stop being funny and start hurting, twisting, gnawing all over again.)