“Value Me"
Leave a “VALUE ME” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character telling yours how they feel about them || selectively accepting.
10 years.
It’s been ten years since that night in the root cellar, and in all honestly, the wound is still so fresh that it feels like it was yesterday. One of the downsides of being a wolf meant that he couldn’t retain short term memories; meaning he remembers crushing every single bone in her body that night, but he can’t for the life of him remember what he went to the grocery store for. That night has haunted him every day since it happened, and more often than not, he wakes up shaking as the memories flood to the front of his mind on the rare occasions he slept. It had been worse when his family died, specifically his mom; she was no longer there to come wake him up in the middle of the night when he’s tossing and turning, begging for forgiveness from the girl he fell in love with, then killed.
Ten years to the day and he’s stood by her grave; albeit, one he doesn’t visit as often as he should ( he still feels like he doesn’t deserve to visit ) and with her parents well and truly AWOL from the town, her graveside doesn’t get many visitors…at least, he hasn’t seen any when he’s been.
Flowers placed on the grave, he crouches down and clears away some weeds, claws extended to get at the tougher ones, tongue lacing the inside of his cheek. He never knew what to say when he came to visit, and it was the exact same when he visited the graves of his family ( Boyd and Erica included ). Licking his lips lightly, he clears his throat, eyes wandering over the headstone; reading the message for the millionth time. Each time he reads it, he remembers who adamant she was that she was going to play first chair, and do you know what? She could have. She SHOULD have.
Minutes past, maybe even hours. He always loses track of time when he’s here. He hasn’t said anything yet, which is a surprise. Normally in her presence, he’d never shut up. Back then, he’d been the life and soul of the party, and she was the quiet one. Oh, how times had changed. As he sits there, he can actually feel her judging him for not saying anything though, and so he clears his throat and sits cross-legged by the grave, fingers absently trailing over the dirt and stones as he looked down.
❝ Who knew that even now, i can’t seem to formulate a coherent thought around you? ❞ he begins, clearing his throat again, lips pursing slightly. This was supposed to get easier, but it never did. That familiar sting is in the back of his eyes now, but he forces it back, takes a deep breath and starts again. ❝ I remember being so terrified of you finding out what I was…back when I was still in denial about it. It would haunt me on a daily basis, but I’d never tell you. I should have. You’d still be here if i hadn’t been so…stupid. Maybe we’d be married. My kind don’t usually get married, but for you, I’d have done it. Or maybe you’d have given in and bludgeoned me to death with your cello for sassing you too much, or teasing you because you could never get the ball off me. ❞ His expression softens at the thought.
He can feel her there now more than ever, and it’s like she has her hand resting on his shoulder. He can see her smiling at him, telling him she forgives him, because he knew she did, even if he could never forgive himself for what he did. ❝ You know, everything changes so quickly in life, and I know that more than anyone at this point. Everything’s changed over the past ten years. The only thing that hasn’t is how I feel about you…❞ He can hear how his voice cracks at that, and he hates himself for it, falls silent again and roughly wipes any stray tears that betrayed him. Taking another breath, cheeks puffed outwards, brows furrowing. ❝ Y-You’re the one constant in my life…even now. ❞ What he wants to say is that she’s his mate ( and he never truly believed they existed, but he can’t deny it anymore ) and it kills him to know that there’s never going to be another woman who could make him feel the way she did.
Truth is, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
❝….I still love you…I’m always going to love you. ❞
He swallows, licking his lips lightly.
❝….not a day goes by that I don’t miss you..❞
He reaches to rest his hand on the top of her headstone, thumb brushing over the side as though it were her cheek.
❝ Sleep well…maybe we’ll meet again one day. ❞
