A/N: I hope the story is making sense so far. I feel like I'm not explaining things enough. I suppose I did really mean for this to be read along with To Live in Forever so that they would fill in the gaps for each other. Whatever. Tell me if you're confused.

All in past

Chapter 7: End of Time

Peppers sizzle in the frying pan as Luka flips them, sending the cooking aroma wafting around the small kitchen. She plops in two pieces of chicken and turns down the heat, covering the skillet. The muted popping and hissing underneath the lid are a stark contrast against the humming floating in through the doorway. With a wipe of her hands on a towel she steps back into the main room of her apartment, hands on hips.

Lying upside-down on the couch with his legs spread up the wall is Gakupo, whistling and humming, no doubt trying to come up with some new melody. Lately that is all he seems to do, not that Luka can really blame him. Just a few days ago was the school festival and he had been a hit with his music. One of the scouters from a record dealership had been there and heard him. He said yes to the offer of course. It was, after all, what he had always wanted, wasn't it?

He tilts his head back and smiles at her, his bangs falling away from his face. "Smells good," he comments. "If you're making chicken that is. Otherwise, well…" His face scrunches up as he recalls her past culinary failures. "Remember when you tried to make microwave brownies…?"

"I don't," she responds flatly and he laughs. Her face tinges red slightly at memory of said disaster and she bites her lip resentfully. Her microwave had never been the same. With a sigh she leans down, resting on the backs of her feet, and stares downward at him. Their eyes meet and he reaches upwards, his hand brushing her cheek.

He pulls himself up and pats at the space next to him. She sits, her fingernails digging into the material of the couch, and leaning hesitantly against him. His arm wraps around her and pulls her against his side, his face resting against her hair. As she sits there, wrapped in his warmth, breathing his spiced scent, something inside her lowers, falls almost, until she feels like a candle flame, looking upwards at the snuffer that will smother her.

"You're leaving soon, aren't you?" she whispers. He pulls back slightly.

"Three days," he says. He sounds confused.

She bites her lip and looks down, memories going through her head. He watches her with thoughtful eyes and leans over to kiss her once on the cheek. She smiles slightly, but it quickly falls of her face.

"Luka, what is it?" She shakes her head and stands, striding towards the kitchen.

"Nothing." There's a sound behind her as he jumps up, slamming the couch against the wall in his haste. She spins around and meets his eyes, wild, disordered, and stops in her tracks, folding her hands in front of her.

"Is this about the job?" he asks, his voice ragged. She lowers her gaze focusing on the ground. No. Not exactly. "What are you worried about?" he takes a step closer and raises one hand absentmindedly, his gaze like blue lasers penetrating to her core.

"Maybe…" her voice is very quiet. "Maybe I'm afraid…that you'll forget." Even as the words leave her mouth she wants to grab them back. She can feel them floating around the room, starting a fire that she's not sure how to put out.

He laughs, a choked bitter sound. "Forget what?"

"Me."

The room is silent but for the sizzling of the pan in the kitchen. He moves a foot forward, softly setting it down and then moving another one until he's right in front of her. His fingers lift her face upwards to his to look back into his troubled eyes, dancing with a hint of confusion and something else. "You know I wouldn't do that."

"Do I?" she breathes and blinks her eyes rapidly, stopping tears before they start. "Do I really know that you'll still remember me a thousand miles away when you can't even remember me here?" She clenches her teeth as her hands start to shake. Only his firm grip is keeping her upright. "Honestly Gakupo," she smiles, the stretch of her skin feeling like torture. "I have to remind you that I'm here half the time."

He raises his eyebrows, his fingers unconsciously pressing tighter against her cheeks. He can't seem to find words to speak although his mouth parts and closes a few times. "Do you even like me at all?" Luka finally whispers and his eyes spread wide, his hands coming down to grip her shoulders.

"Yes!" he pleads, he pushes his face forward, forcing the word into her mind, but she clenches her eyes shut, lowering her head with a strained grin. "I love you Luka!" His voice is desperate, his fingers toy with the ends of her hair. "I've said it again and again, so what do you not understand?"

She pulls herself back to look upwards at him, his expression is flustered, shocked. She grabs his hands and holds them in her own, lifted in between them as if dancing. "I don't understand…" her words are muddled, her thoughts dizzy. There are ideas, reasons going through her head, followed around by a swirl of emotion. "I don't…" she closes her eyes again, biting down on the surge of guilt and anger that bubbles up in her, but then releasing it in a vicious tone. "I don't understand why you would leave me like this." He stares at her, at a loss for words, as a sick feeling begins to creep through her body. She doesn't understand what she's saying. Is this really how she feels? Is she so selfish that she rather have his dreams be crushed than have him leave her completely? Already in mind, but now in body too?

No. She's not. She's not because…

"You promised me," she mutters and drops his hands. They stay there, held in midair, as hers lower and clench into fists. "You said you would take me with you when you got where you were going so-!" She stops suddenly, finding no more words to stay. What she is saying is ridiculous, childish, but it doesn't feel that way. No, it doesn't feel unreasonable. It only feels like longing and pain.

His breathing is loud as turns slightly to the side, rubbing his face before turning back to her. "I can't take you with me," he says, his voice sharp. "My manager expressed that clearly." His gaze is wild, despairing as it looks at her, taking in the sight in front of him and seeming just as confused and guilty as she feels. He grits his teeth and locks his jaw. "I can't fit my entire life around you."

The words leave a ringing in the air, and both of them stare wonderingly at the other. Gakupo appears shocked, as if terrified that the words had come out of his mouth. He raises a hand, first reaching towards Luka, but then retreating to cover half of his face.

"That…that wasn't…" his words are lost to the ringing soundlessness. Luka doesn't need to hear anything else though. She knows what this is. She had felt it coming for a while now, just had been pushing it back, acting like if she didn't acknowledge it, it would go away. But it won't go away now. It was here, staring them blankly in the face.

"This…isn't going to work, is it?" her voice sounds dead, even to herself.

He one eye locks on her around his hand before it closes, slowly drawing his eyebrows together. The dim light in the room darkens the almost invisible lines of stress on his face, making every crease stand out. Their breathing synchronizes, still surprisingly steady despite the turmoil of the situation.

"No," he whispers finally. His voice is as rough as sandpaper. "It's not." He lowers his hand and his eyes open, meeting hers as they read each other's faces, each urgently searching for a response but finding nothing but cold regret. Without a breath or another sound Luka steps backwards and opens the door, lowering her head towards it and looking away. He steps forward slowly, coming to rest in the doorway and suddenly turning around, taking a step back in.

"No," he gasps as she takes a step back, leaving the door to swing and hit his outstretched hand. He pushes it open once more and looks at her, a smile as tense as elastic stretched across his face. "No, Not like this. I won't have us end like this." He shuffles another half foot forward, only to freeze again. He tilts his head, his eyes becoming glassy, like one-sided mirrors.

"Let's just pretend like it never happened," he says, the words spilling off his tongue in monotony. "That way…" he reaches forward towards her, as if to cup her face like he had minutes ago, but she is too far away. His hand falls and he steps back again, drawing the door behind him. "We'll still be friends." His eyes shine in the darkness of the hallway.

She stands there for a moment, thinking, not breathing, and eventually rewinding, as she slowly nods her head. "Yes," is all she can say and he smiles, shutting the door.

Friendship

There's a screech from her kitchen as the fire alarm beeps, alerting her of the smoke wafting around the stove. She whips the top of the pan and waves the smoke away from the burnt dinner, made for two and now to be eaten by no one. The smoke stings at her eyes, but it doesn't matter; she's already crying. The charred chicken and ruined pan blur away as she collapses onto the floor, the world spinning around her.