Well you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Matilda let out a soft sigh as she shut and zipped up the last of her suitcases. She looks around the now nearly empty room wistfully, remembering the fights, the barbed words, and the love she and he shared here.
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
Xanxus stared out the window, empty glass of whiskey clutched in his shaking hand. He felt hollow. No, he was hollow. Only a empty husk of a man left to wallow in his abhorrent misery. Memories of her flittered through his mind like butterflies just out of reach. No matter how he tried to catch them in outstretched hands, he could never fully grasp them—just like how he could never fully relive the memories he shared with her, now that they were tainted.
"I'm leaving now." Matilda says, peeking her head into the den, staring longingly at the back of his head.
Xanxus contemplates breaking something. Maybe the coffee table he's resting his legs on.
But no.
That'd only make things worse.
(As if it could be any worse)
His anger… his melancholy… he won't be able to get rid of it with such impulsive actions. Maybe when he was younger, he might of, but now time had tempered his temper and mellowed him out. But then again, hadn't she fallen in love with him years ago? When he was a different man?
Xanxus lets out only a grunt in reply. She sighs, tears threatening to fall as she whirled around and made way for the door.
Of course he didn't care. Why would he? She was easily replaceable.
(Or so she thought)
Xanxus would never miss someone like her. He'd probably dated hundreds of women just like her before they got together. What was she, in a long line of lovers? Nothing. That'w what she was.
(Nothiing equaled everything.)
She left, leaving the doorway open in her wake. A cold wind blowed through the door of Xanxus' home.
And you let her go
Finding an apartment wasn't too hard, it was finding a job that was the most challenging.
The alimony she got from the divorce was sizable enough for her to never have to work again, but she liked being busy.
If she didn't have free time. If she focused her mind on meaningless toiling. If she threw herself back into the lull of the mundane world.
Maybe then she could forget him.
Maybe then she wouldn't feel this ache in her chest.
Staring at the bottom of your glass
Hoping one day you'll make a dream last
But dreams come slow and they go so fast
Inevitably, Xanxus found himself with a drink in his hand. More often than not he drained and entire bottle and was left clutching the neck of it in his hand, staring emptily into its hollow cavity.
He wished it was her hand he was holding instead of the bottle.
Xanxus closed his eyes.
He sholdn't dwell. He wouldn't dwell. He was the damn leader of the Varia, a strong, masculine and emotionless human who killed for a living, not some pathetic man easily swayed by a woman's charms!
But…
How empty were those words, when he said them out loud to himself to try to convince them. How empty were those words when he dreamed of her every single night, waking up with tears trailing down his face and only the fast fading memory of her warmth to comfort (or torture) him?
He wanted to be something without her.
But it wasn't seeming like
You see her when you close your eyes
Maybe one day you'll understand why
Everything you touch surely dies
He dreamed of her every night, though those dreams boarded on nightmares.
Nightmares because he was always losing her, somehow or another.
A gunshot to the head. A kidnapping incident. Another man.
She was constantly being ripped from him.
He didn't know how long these awful dreams would last, but he longed for peace just as much as he longed for her.
But you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
It was winter. The first snow of the season had passed and coated the ground in a fine layer of white powder. It was reminiscent of the drugs the mafia traded in so often, and if Xanxus thought about it, wasn't she like that too?
Only making him wanting more.
He was so happy when she was there.
But now that he didn't have her he felt empty and alone. Cold inside. The more time that passed, the more he needed her. And he didn't know how to admit this to himself.
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
Matilda was doing well for herself.
If you could count coming home to an empty apartment as Well.
If you could count eating frozen dinners every night at a table meant for two with just yourself as doing well.
If you could count getting sick of it all, furious at the meaninglessness of it all, and letting all your inhibitions go and having a fling with your manager at the local grocery store as doing well.
She had felt wrong as he had draped his arm over her shoulders and sent her a grin. But she grinned back. She leaned towards him, fluttered her eyelashes, made sure to show off her… best assets.
And to her horror? She had almost enjoyed it.
She thought she could never love someone after him.
But maybe this was the right thing to do.
Maybe it was good to move on quickly, to take her mind off the once-empty space in her bed by replacing it with Gerald. His rectangular glasses and prematurely greying hair and habit of leaving his slippers in the bathroom weren't what Matilda usually went for—so different from him, tall, wild, handsome—but that was probably for the better.
Gerald was normal. He gave her something he could never. Stability. Stability was everything.
(Everything equaled nothing.)
She had to separate herself from him as much as possible.
Or she didn't know what she would do.
Staring at the ceiling in the dark
Same old empty feeling in your heart
Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast
He sees her across the street one day when he's coming out of the liquor store.
Usually he had people to shop for him, but after his "little habit experienced a tremendous spike over the year, he's had to resort to sneaking past the guards and Squalo at Varia mansion to get his fics.
Vision blurred after living a whole year drunk off his rocker, he squints to look at her.
Though he can't see her well, the astigmatism making things difficult, she could see she looked fairly content, standing at some store front with a small smile on her face.
Maybe... maybe if he walked over, threw away the pride he clutched so tightly against his chest, and begged her to return to him...
Maybe then they could smile together.
He takes a few staggering steps forward before stopping dead in his tracks, a jagged breath ripping out his lungs as he sees some man walk out of the store she was standing in front of to wrap his scarf around her neck.
Rage pulses through his body as he watches him lean in and steal a tender kiss from the lips that were once solely his.
He tried to rush over. To stop this disgusting display. (This was wrongwrongwrongwrong.) But his body isn't what it used to be, and he stumbles into the snow, head knocking against the curb.
When Squalo wakes him hours later, the disappointment and disgust clear on his face, Matild is long gone.
Well you see her when you fall asleep
But never to touch and never to keep
Cause you loved her too much and you dived too deep
He should've known. He should've known nothing could go right.
That—that traiterous—
Xanxus threw the glass in his hand at the floor, and it shattered loudly, pieces flying all over the room. Squalo would complain later but frankly he wasn't dealing with a breakup and probably never would. Hell would freeze over before anyone, man or woman or anything in between, would look twice at Squalo. Squalo had no redeeming qualities.
Unlike Xanxus.
Who she should've come crawling back to.
"Traiterous bitch," he grumbled furiously, stomping out of the room.
Whoever she was with, was in for a hell of a wake-up call.
Well you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
Matilda smiled at Gerald, kissing him on the cheek as she finished tying his tie. "Ready for another day at work?" she asked, ignoring the sinking feeling as she remembered how she used to do this for him.
And the betrayed look he had given her when she'd been out with Gerald.
And the way he used to reach out to her, cupping her cheek gently, before leaning in and kissing her in a way that left her feeling absolutely breathed less.
But she wasn't with him anymore.
She had Gerald now.
She had Gerald. And his rectangular glasses frames. And his greying hair. And the way he smiled at her when she brought him dinner. And the kisses they stole during lunch breaks or when no one was in the back room.
She opened the car door for Gerald, and shut the door behind him after he climbed in.
For those precious few seconds before she had to get in the driver's side and take them to work, she took a deep and tried not to cry. She schooled her features. Perfectly emotionless. To fool Gerald.
When she got in the car, Gerald placed his hand over hers.
"Are you okay, honey?" he saked, concern creasing his brow.
Matilda's eyes widened.
He had never…
He had never noticed the fronts she put up. Never realized they were false, in all the years they'd been married.
But this man… this man had noticed. Instantly. The first time she ever fakes a smile and he notices.
Unexpectedly some of the darkness within Matilda's heart vanishes.
"I'm okay," she says, and means it. She puts the car in reverse and begins to back out of their parking space, side-swiping a Sedan on her way out. "I'm… I'm okay."
Maybe this isn't all bad.
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go
Ohhh, oh no
And you let her go
Ohhh, oh no
Well you let her go
Matilda cries as she's handed her darling baby boy years down the line, Gerald right by her side to kiss her forehead and sing her praises for the miracle she just made.
"He's perfect, honey." he whispers, letting the child grab his finger.
"He is." Matilda says, beaming like she never has before.
Though she had her apprehensions in the past, worries about whether she was making the right decision with Gerald or if this was just another love that lead to nothing, she's found a love that (while never as passionate or wild as the one she had with him) could hold her. Make her feel safe. At home. A love that could give her a child that she loves with her very soul.
A love that could give her everything.
(Everything equaled everything.)
Cause you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
"Xanxus. Vongola Decimo wants you in his office. Now. VOIIIIIIII!" Squalo shouted, just about blowing out Xaanxus' weardrums. "GET TO IT!"
Xanxus rose slowly, grumbling at the pain of his hangover. He starts down the hall, trying to remember which way it was to that damn BRAT'S office again. It is too early in the morning for meetings. What did Tsuna want with him anyways.
j
He had been doing fine lately. Perfectly fine if you ignore the bottles stacking up on his desk. The pile of unfinished mission reports scattered on the floor and every horizontal surface. The smell of alcohol that never quite left his breath. The fact that he slept around 20 hours a day and didn't bother to leave his office for the other four.
Xanxus.
Was.
Doing.
Fine.
And he would blast anyone who dared to imply otherwise to hell.
Or that's what he thought.
"Xanxus, we have to let you go," Tsuna said sadly. Gokudera stood behind him reminiscent of an angry Pomeranian as he trembled with rage, ready to be unleashed at the Decimo's whim. Xanxus knew he would be in for a thrashing if he openly defied Tsuna right now. "We can't keep doing this."
"Doing what." Xanxus demands flatly.
"YOU—"
"Gokudera, I can handle this," Decimo says, turning pitying eyes on Xanxus.
Like the way that Nono used to look at him.
It was enough to make Xanxus see red.
Decimo continues, "I know you might not want to leave—"
"Fuck you, you piece of shit," Xanxus spits, rising abruptly. "You want me gone? Fine, trash. I'm out of here. You're a shit leader and you'll bring the Vongola to ruin. You're nothing but a dirty old scrap of newspaper trampled by hundreds on a sidewalk. You're going to regret the day you ever wanted me out of this place."
He leaned closer to Tsuna, enjoying the way he could still make the Neo Vongola Primo flinch.
"When the Varia collapses, don't come crying back to me."
Maybe somewhere down the line he would regret this. Maybe he would look back and think he should have kept his head down and begged for forgiveness. But right now with alcohol coursing through his veins and the ever present sorrow of her absence piercing his heart?
He couldn't give a damn.
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
His teeth chatter as he curls up in the alleyway, hoping the dumpster shields him from the wind that's blowing through his body, rattling his bones.
His body quakes as he tries and fails to ignite his flame.
After three years on his own, cast aside by his woman and his men, it seems he doesn't even have his dying will left to warm him.
"Mommy? Is that man okay?"
He stares straight forward, trying to be as quiet and still as possible. Though he was famous for causing a fuss in his youth, he no longer wanted any trouble. He just wanted peace.
The little boy's mother steps into the alleyway, her husband hovering at the entrance with a worried look on his face as he held their son's hand, and gives him a smile he would recognize anywhere even after all these years.
"Here, sir. Take this." she says, taking off her scarf (if he were in a better state of mind, he'd recognize it as the scarf that man, her "husband", had wrapped around her the day his world came tumbling down) and wrapping it around her neck. She sets a takeout soup container in front of him and hands him a spoon. "I hope you like wontons. You should really get to the shelter, it's going to be cold tonight. Merry Christmas, sir."
After all these years her face was burned in the back of his mind... and she didn't even recognize him.
He chokes out a laugh, mocking himself. "Yes. Merry Christmas, miss."
The words most likely meant nothing to her. Just like how his life, their love, even after all the passion that sparked a burning flame he thought was eternal, amounted to nothing.
(Nothing equaled nothing.)
Cause you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go
The face of that homeless mind sticks around in Matilda's face for a few hours after she leaves him. Had she done enough? Maybe she should have given him a ride to the shelter? Oh but she had been so crunched for time, what with preparing for Christmas with the in-laws. Gerald's parents were lovely people, and she enjoyed spending time with them.
"Mommy when are we going to get to Grammy and Grampy's house?" Henry asks, fidgeting in his car seat.
"Soon," Matilda says, smiling. She shifts the car into drive and peels down the street, clearing her mind of the homeless man. She can't afford any distractions right now—
It's Christmas. She'll be her happiest self.
Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missing home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go
It's a family tradition on Gerald's side to visit the grave on big holidays.
To make sure those who have gone before them don't feel left out.
They're just finishing up giving their greetings to Gerald's grandmother when Matilda notices a small grave set aside from the rest of the family markings.
"Sweetheart, what's that?" Matilda whispered, taking Gerald's hand but unable to tear her gaze from the tombstone.
"Oh." A sad look fluttered across Gerald's expression, he ran a hand through his silver locks nervously. "My uncle - you know the philanthropist? - he heard about a man that died in town. He had no family. No friends. No one even knew who he was. He felt sorry for him so... He decided to give him a little space in the family grave. So he's not alone in his final resting place."
"Mommy?" Henry whispers, tugging at Matilda's skirt. "Do we get to give that man get flowers too?"
Matilda's eyes watered and she choked back a sob as she nodded. "Yes, of course."
The family of three walked over and, with the last of the flowers they've brought to make offerings, grace the grave with a small bouquet.
Gerald wrapped an arm around Matilda as the two smiled down at Henry as he beamed, feeling proud to spread joy even to long dead ghosts. The little gift, a mess of daisies and rose buds, wasn't perfect, but it was something.
(Something equaled everything.)