word count : 465
pairing : evan rosier x fem! reader
triggers : angst!! 3rd person.
a/n : based on "but the ache for him is stronger than my anger. i want to speak of something not dead or divine. i want him to live." saw it on pinterest and then ... *this*. she lost him to his family.
in the common room, a candle guttered. smoke curled. she pressed her forehead against cold glass, watching her breath fog the window. below, something massive and dark moved through the lake's waters, but she barely saw it.
evan.
her chest ached. she dug her nails into her palms until it hurt, needing the pain, needing anything to drown out the memory of his laugh. two weeks ago, he'd sat in that chair by the fire, feet propped on an ottoman, telling her wild stories about sneaking into the restricted section. now the chair was empty. would always be empty.
stupid. stupid to cry over him. stupid to wake up reaching for someone who'd chosen darkness over... over what? over her? over himself?
the fire popped, spitting an ember onto the hearthrug. she watched it die, that tiny point of light fading to black. like him. like everything.
her throat burned. if she opened her mouth, she might scream. or sob. or whisper his name into the darkness until her voice gave out. so she kept her lips pressed tight, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper.
someone had cleaned out his trunk yesterday. she'd watched from the stairs as they'd carried away his books, his clothes, that stupid silver pocket watch he was so proud of. "family heirloom," he'd told her once, letting her hold it. the metal had been warm from his pocket.
a first-year wandered in, took one look at her face, and scurried back out. good. she couldn't bear kindness right now. couldn't bear the pitying looks, the whispered conversations that stopped when she entered a room.
she remembered last spring, how evan had charmed bits of toast to glow green and tossed them into the lake, laughing as the squid chased the glowing morsels through dark water. he'd grabbed her hand afterward, his fingers cold and damp, and pulled her into a shadowy alcove. his kisses had tasted like lake water and possibility.
now she'd give anything to go back to that moment. to grab his stupid, beautiful face and tell him... tell him what? that he was worth more than his family's expectations? that power wasn't worth his soul? that she loved him?
but that was the thing about time. it only moved forward, dragging you with it, whether you wanted to go or not.
the candle sputtered out. she didn't bother lighting another one. in the dark, she could almost pretend he was still here, sprawled in his favorite chair, planning their next adventure. almost.
her hand found the pocket watch in her robe. she'd snatched it from his trunk before they'd taken everything away. the metal was cold now. it would never be warm again.
yousharknotpass
romaincrisis
2087
stormborns
titsay
