elsie. 23. central american latina. she/her. graphic designer. hopeless romantic. fangirl. book lover. f1 girly. hockey girl in process. bilingual
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synopsis: One date leads to another, and Garrett slowly but surely works his way into your life. As tensions escalate with your roommate, it becomes harder for him to let you out of his sight.
A scared yelp escapes you as you open your front door. Garrett texted you I’m here just five seconds ago. You find him in the hallway dressed in a forest-green sweatshirt and dark sweatpants, which stand in contrast to your cozy yellow sweater and favorite yoga pants. “Sorry,” you apologize quickly, hands against your cheeks as you feel them heat with embarrassment, “I thought you’d be waiting in your car.”
His smile is soft and charming as he looks you over. You’ve applied a light layer of makeup similar to your look at the party last weekend. Your hair remains in a ponytail, but you’ve thrown on your lucky, sparkly headband for good luck. Not that you needed any luck. Garrett had assured you there was nothing to worry about.
You suddenly feel like you’re forgetting something. “Oh, my purse!”
You hurry back into your apartment to retrieve it. Your roommate, Paige, and her boyfriend are making pancakes for dinner in the tiny kitchen you share. She isn’t wearing pants, and he’s made himself completely at home in nothing but his boxers. The moment you told her you wouldn’t be back until later, she’d invited him over.
You climb over your neatly made bed to grab your purse from the side table, which leaves you more out of breath than it probably should. Even though it contains only lip gloss, your license, a stick of gum, and a debit card with approximately seventy dollars on it, you feel much more secure carrying it.
When you turn around, Garrett is standing fully in your doorway, his eyes roaming over your shoebox apartment before settling on the couple in the kitchen.
“No way, you're Garrett Graham, right?” Paige’s boyfriend doesn’t go to school at Briar. You remember her saying he was about five years older than her, although you thought he could easily pass for thirty.
Your heart pounds as Ethan makes his way over to your date, hand out for Garrett to politely shake. He’s close to rambling about Garrett’s last game, and then he brings up the score and some more terms you have no clue about. And because Garrett’s so good at commanding a room and taking up space, which you’ve never been good at, he cuts through the conversation.
“Ready now, Bunny?”
Paige’s mouth gapes at his words, and you’re left with no time to process your new nickname. “Yes.” You’re next to Garrett in a flash, and his hand becomes wrapped around your waist. “Uhm, I’ll see you guys later!”
You have to close your front door tightly to relieve the awkward tension. “I’m so sorry.”
He shushes you as he leads you down to the elevator, as if he’s already comfortable navigating the building. Once you were in the privacy of the old elevator, Garrett asked, “That’s her fucking boyfriend?”
You nodded quietly.
“How often is he there?”
“Well, they just got back together–”
“Before she started fucking Dean. How often was he over?”
You shrugged, “A few nights a week, I guess. He works from home.”
You watch as his face twists into something close to disappointment. Or disgust. “And how often does he walk around with no clothes on?”
“Not often,” You say almost to soften the blow, “He’s just comfortable there, I guess. And it’s okay. She makes sure I’m okay with it before he comes over.”
“Ha,” He laughs softly before his lips form a thin line. Bad start to the night, you thought. And it’s all because of Ethan’s Ninja Turtle briefs. The elevator dings, and the two of you walk out to his car. Like a gentleman, he opens your car door for you, and you take the opportunity to get a few deep breaths in as the door shuts and he rounds the hood of the car.
You’re not sure why it’s so much harder to breathe when you’re close to him. You chalk it up to the two of you practically being strangers and your nerves.
During the drive to Garrett’s house, he doesn’t push the subject of your roommate and her boyfriend, which you’re thankful for. He decides to talk to you about his own roommates instead. You knew Dean, of course, and Garrett makes the point that he’s sweeter than he looks. Although he’s just as sexual as he comes off. Logan is his hardworking best friend. Tucker is also kind and is an amazing cook, according to Garrett. You do your best to listen, but as he parks his car on the street in front of the house, you realize that you’re about to actually meet all of them. Not in the setting of a party being hosted, but a casual weeknight where they’re living life normally.
The seriousness of the situation hits you. Garrett assured you that the night would be low-key, but what was casual about meeting all of his best friends?
“You okay?” A smooth voice snaps you out of your spiral.
You nod, nervously smiling back at him, “Sorry, I’m okay …hungry.”
“Good. C’mon, Tuck made stir-fry.”
You find that you don't actually need the courage to go inside and say hello to his friends because Garrett's hand on your lower back does the work for you. You don't have to say much. You don't have to figure out where to walk or stand because Garrett guides you.
Tucker stands near the stove, an apron tied around his waist, while Logan and Dean sit on bar stools at the kitchen island. They've already started digging into their meals, and when Tucker presents the two of you with your dinner plates, you can't help but marvel at both the presentation and the amount of food piled onto each one.
"Oh my goodness, you really didn't have to, Tucker—"
"No worries at all. Our casa is su casa, Y/N," he says, his voice warm and welcoming. "And I won't be offended if you don't eat it all. We eat a lot here."
Garrett squeezes your hip, and it serves as a reminder to stop smiling at him like an idiot.
"Thank you so much."
"Thanks, Tuck." Garrett's hand finally leaves your waist so he can grab both plates. "You ready to go upstairs?"
"Yeah," you say, and Logan and Dean exchange a knowing glance.
Garrett tilts his head toward the stairs, and you take that as your cue to follow.
"I-It was nice meeting you guys," you manage to say, offering a small wave.
Logan and Tucker return it immediately. Dean, meanwhile, is already shoveling a spoonful of rice into his mouth. Before anyone can say much else, you hurry after your date.
Garrett's room is large and dark-toned. The windows are huge, but nighttime doesn't offer much light. You've only taken a few steps inside, but the air already feels intimate.
"Your friends seem nice," you say as you stand frozen, your eyes wandering over every poster and piece of memorabilia. "And this house is also... super nice."
"They are. And thanks." Garrett sets the plates down on his nightstand before patting a spot on the other side of the bed. "Sit down and get comfortable."
You'd already taken your shoes off at the door, even though Garrett insisted you didn't have to, so now you're walking around in socks covered with tiny strawberries. You take a seat where he gestures, leaning against his pillows and crossing your legs.
He hands you your plate of food before grabbing his laptop.
"So, what kind of movies do you like to watch, little bookworm?" Garrett asks casually as he settles beside you. He makes sure to close the gap between you, his knee brushing yours and his arm resting against your shoulder.
"We can watch whatever. I don't mind."
"Hmm, okay, but that's not what I asked."
You turn toward him and find that he's already watching you.
"What do you like to watch, Bunny?"
"Uhm." You're suddenly embarrassed as you think over your taste in media. "I like... romance. And historical dramas, I guess. But I understand if you don't want to watch—"
"So what's your favorite movie?"
And that's how you end up watching Little Women with Garrett Graham.
You do your best to tackle the mountain of restaurant-quality food Tucker provided. Garrett finishes his plate, and as the movie plays, he becomes more invested than you'd expected.
The movie reaches the Christmas scenes, where Beth is feeling better and their father returns home. Garrett asks a question—something about whether a certain moment happened in the book—when your phone starts to vibrate.
You pick it up to silence it, only to find five unread messages from your roommate. Worried something bad has happened, you open the text chain.
Paige: Are you still coming home tonight?
Paige: Also, is it cool if Ethan stays for the rest of the week?
Paige: Since you're gonna be busy with your new friend :)
Paige: BTW I can't believe you're hooking up with Garrett Graham and today is the first time I'm hearing about it
Paige: Oh and I need rent earlier than the 1st
"What's wrong?"
"What? Nothing."
You realize Garrett has paused the movie.
You know you should ignore her, but then you start thinking about what she'll think if you don't respond. You find yourself staring down at your phone.
"Your hands are shaking."
The deep timbre of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. His mouth is close to your ear, and he's looking down at your phone too.
Instinctively, you tilt the screen away.
"What did she say?"
"I'm sorry I interrupted the movie—"
"Y/N."
Garrett's voice is stern enough to silence the anxious thoughts racing through your mind.
Then he holds out his hand expectantly.
Your heart starts beating faster.
You hesitate—or at least it feels like you do—before handing over your phone.
You wipe your sweaty palms on your pants, uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you let him read the messages.
"So her boyfriend's moving in?"
"Just for the week."
"And she's making you pay half the rent when you sleep on the couch, and she's letting some asshole stay there?"
You can't meet his eyes.
"It pulls out," you mumble.
"Fuck that."
"You don't understand, Garrett. She's been there for me. She really has..."
"Do you even have the money to give her?"
"Yes. Well, I can use my savings until I get paid again—"
"Fuck that for sure. Tell her to fuck off."
A startled yelp escapes you at the shocking suggestion.
Garrett's jaw ticks.
You don't know him well, but even you can tell he's angry.
"Please, can we finish the movie?"
Your face falls as you pull your knees to your chest. Tears sting your eyes, and you know you can stop them from falling if he just... moves on.
Please.
Please.
Please.
You hear him sigh before you hear the click of your phone locking.
"C'mere."
His large arms wrap around your shoulders as the movie starts playing again.
You soften against him, resting your head on his shoulder.
His tone lightens.
"Just because she blows up your phone doesn't mean you need to answer. She can wait."
"Okay," you say, and you believe him. "I'm sorry I made you mad."
"You didn't do anything, baby," he reassures you.
You do end up crying that night, but it isn't because of Paige.
It's Beth March's death that gets you.
The two of you make it almost to the end of the movie. Mr. Dashwood is just about to publish Jo's book when your eyes begin to grow heavy. Getting up early for class that morning has finally caught up with you.
The rolling credits are the last thing you see.
And the last thing you feel is Garrett Graham pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
Garrett had no intentions of stalking you, given he’d already decided you were his now. And he could acknowledge that going through someone’s phone is bad behavior, but he had to understand this situation with your roommate more. How else was he going to solve your problem if you refused to admit it was one?
Your roommate sent you the occasional good luck for a test, and there were a few times she told you to have a fun weekend. At least through text, he didn’t see any indications that she was supportive. Half your conversations were her just asking you to do the most outlandish things for her. Just two weeks ago, she asked you to clean the entire apartment, including her room, because she wanted to have friends over. A week before that, she asked if you could stay out of the apartment from seven o'clock to ten o'clock at night because a guy was coming over and she wanted privacy.
And all of your responses were the same.
So sorry!!
Of course!!
That’s fine!!
I really don’t mind!!!!
His hindbrain was telling him to find a way to escalate the situation, blow up your life, and let him pick up the pieces. The more logical part of his brain knew it was a matter of time before this bad situation got worse and that he could be the one to save you when that inevitably happened. And maybe, just maybe, he could help it hurt a little bit less. He could also make someone else suffer for hurting you.
He watched you sleep for a short while, and when he inevitably settled against you, grabbing your waist and pushing your bottom against his crotch, you didn’t even stir.
Garrett felt grateful that you were here with him tonight and sleeping peacefully in his bed instead of squeezed onto that pathetic pullout couch. His own anxiety felt better knowing you were safe. Whatever feeling you had planted inside of him at that party was only growing.
Garrett pressed his face into your hair and closed his eyes.
He'd make sure this became a regular thing.
You were so embarrassed when you woke up the next morning and realized you'd fallen asleep. As if you were the one taking advantage of him. It took some time for you to regulate and for Garrett to convince you that you hadn't done anything wrong.
"I wanted you here, Bunny. You look good in my bed," he'd said.
Over the next week, the only time you spent apart from Graham was when you had class or work. Even then, he offered to pick you up and drive you everywhere. It just made sense. You had no car. He did.
"I want to send you money. I'm wasting so much of your gas," you said as the two of you drove back to the hockey house.
"I don't want or need your money, Y/N."
"There has to be something I can do." Garrett watched the wheels turning in your mind. "I know. I'll bake you something."
"You can bake?" Garrett's eyebrows rose.
"No, but I could try." You shrugged, and his eyes softened as he held your gaze.
"That would be nice, Bunny, but I know what I want."
"What?" you'd asked with a smile.
"A kiss."
You stared back like a baby deer caught in headlights. "A kiss? From me?"
"Yes, genius."
"I've never kissed anyone—"
Then it was Garrett's turn to blanch. "What? You're serious?"
"No, I mean, I've been kissed. I have. I've just never done the..."
"You've never kissed someone first?"
You nodded hesitantly.
"Then let me be your first."
A long silence passed between the two of you as the radio played softly through Garrett's speakers. After he parked the car and undid his seatbelt, he reached over, like usual, and unclicked yours. Garrett had started noticing more and more of your nervous tics. Right now, your leg was bouncing so hard it practically shook the entire car.
"I mean, you kinda owe me, right?"
You bit down on your lip as you pulled your knees onto the seat and folded them beneath you. Leaning toward the center console, your smaller hands found his shoulders. Slowly, they slid to his neck and then the sides of his face. Your thumb brushed over his stubble, and you watched his eyes darken.
Garrett's eyes closed when your lips pressed softly against his. The kiss was brief and sweet, but it still left his head spinning.
You were still holding his face when you asked, "How was that?"
Garrett answered by leaning in and kissing you again.
Your lips worked to keep up as Garrett set a steady rhythm. Your hands found his shoulders while he reached for your waist. Before you knew it, he was hoisting you over the middle console until you were straddling his lap.
If there was any control you had left, you let it go.
Making out was kind of like all your conversations. Garrett pushed, forcing you to open up, and he peeled back your layers slowly. And he decided when it ended.
His hands traveled up your waist and beneath your shirt, his large palms roaming over the expanse of your skin. You felt warmth gather low in your stomach as your hips shifted against him.
You only tried to pull away because you needed air.
He kissed you so thoroughly that your lips already felt sore and swollen.
"Garrett," you breathed.
Immediately, he loosened his grip.
"Can we... I feel..."
"You feel what, Bunny?"
"Overwhelmed."
"I'm not gonna fuck you if that's what you're scared about. I just wanted to taste you."
"Oh." You weren't entirely sure how to respond to such blunt honesty. "Okay."
Maybe you'd been wrong to assume he wanted some kind of relationship.
Maybe he wanted something in between.
You'd never been in a real relationship before, so it wasn't like you knew exactly what you wanted. But deep down, you knew you didn't want a casual situationship.
And if that was what Garrett wanted... how would you even say no to him?
"What's wrong? Do you want more, Bunny?"
He toyed with the waistband of your jeans before his hand slipped lower and grabbed a handful of your ass.
You couldn't help how flustered you became. Suddenly, the car felt far too small.
"I like you like this."
He pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, and your eyes threatened to roll back at the pleasure of it.
"Like what?"
"Squirming on top of me." His voice dropped lower. "I can't think about anyone else, you know?"
"You can't?"
"I'm crazy about you."
He kissed your cheek.
Then the other.
Teasing you.
And you found yourself melting against him.
"I hate when you leave."
"Why?"
"This feels right, doesn't it?"
A kiss against your nose.
"You with me."
Another brush of his lips.
"I think you need me."
"I do?"
He hummed as his lips hovered over yours.
"I'll take good care of you."
You leaned closer, but he still didn't close the distance.
"You'll let me take care of you, right?"
Your lips parted.
You knew you didn't fully understand what he meant.
But you knew exactly what he wanted to hear.
And somehow, you wanted to give it to him.
"Yes."
A dark satisfaction flashed across Garrett's face.
"Good fucking girl."
Then his lips were on yours again, and every sensible thought you'd ever had disappeared from your mind.
Paige is right. You find that you're barely home over the next month, mostly because Ethan has been there every day since they'd gotten back together. You have no privacy to study, no room for your groceries, and Paige and Ethan have sex loudly most nights. Worst of all, he uses up your favorite brand of overpriced conditioner, the only kind that helps tame your hair.
The hockey house, although it's full of rowdy college boys, ends up feeling more peaceful. Garrett protects your space, makes sure you always have quiet when you study, and even buys you another set of all your toiletries so you don't have to pack a toiletry bag every time you come over. Plus, there's a free dinner almost every night, and Garrett's friends seem to actually like you. They ask questions about your classes, and they don't talk over you even though their voices boom much louder than yours.
You've started to rely on Garrett so much that the situation with Paige becomes something you want to handle on your own.
It takes everything in you not to just give in. You throw up twice before you can bring yourself to face her, but you eventually do. You're logical. You explain that you don't think it's fair to keep paying half the rent for a quarter of the space and no privacy.
She agrees.
She actually hears you out and promises she'll find a split that's more proportional.
Your shoulders feel lighter when you finally tell Garrett. He's frustrated, of course, that you kept it from him, but supportive nonetheless. Feeling any sort of control in your relationship with Paige is strange.
And ultimately, short-lived.
A week later, you have a babysitting gig that Paige helped set up for you. A friend of a family friend of hers. It should be an easy night considering the child you're babysitting is less than a year old.
Garrett has a game that night at Harvard, and Paige promises she'll be able to pick you up from the nearby city when she tells you about the job.
So the clock turns to eleven, the baby's parents come home, and you expect to find Paige waiting for you outside the apartment building's lobby.
Except she's nowhere to be found.
The lobby doors lock behind you, and she isn't picking up her phone.
The bus isn't running anymore.
And Garrett is at least an hour away in Boston.
Maybe she's just busy driving.
11:20.
You sit down on the steps outside the building, glancing between your phone and the city street in front of you.
11:35.
Your body starts to shake, and your heart pounds so hard in your chest that you can feel it in your ears.
11:45.
Garrett's smiling face appears on your screen, and it takes you a long moment to muster the courage to answer.
"Hello," you say. Your voice sounds smaller than it ever has before.
"Why are you still in the city?"
You'd forgotten he could see your location on his phone, a feature you'd never particularly used before but that Garrett insisted was for safety reasons.
"I'm, uh..." You hiccup. "Waiting f-for... Paige."
"She was supposed to be there an hour ago."
Not a question.
An observation.
"Why didn't you call me? Shit. Are you just standing outside?"
"I'm sitting outside the building."
"Jesus. Here's what you're going to do. Are you listening, Bunny?"
You nod before realizing he can't see you.
"Y-yes."
"Stand up. Turn to your right and start walking."
Although your knees wobble, you manage to do as he says.
"There's a fast-food place two blocks over. You're going to go inside and sit there. Don't talk to anyone, okay?"
You do your best to avoid eye contact with everyone you pass, from the twenty-somethings enjoying their night out to the shadier characters lingering on the sidewalks.
"Okay, Garrett."
You hold your bag tightly against your side. The night air has turned frigid, and your light blue crewneck does little to keep you warm. The cold motivates you to pick up your pace.
"I'm stuck here. I don't have my car, but I'm gonna call Jules, okay? I want you to wait there for them."
"Okay. I-I'm sorry I can't do anything right."
You're close to sobbing. You want to throw up. You're embarrassed, cold, and miserable.
"You just won your game. You should b-be celebrating."
"You're okay, baby. I'm gonna make sure you get home safely. I'm not mad at you."
His voice is deep and eerily controlled.
"Are you inside yet?"
The neon sign comes into view. It's still chilly inside, but you can finally breathe a little easier when you slide into an empty booth. A few people are scattered around the restaurant, but it's mostly quiet.
"I'm inside."
"Okay. I'm gonna call Jules. Stay put, okay? I'll call you right back."
"Okay. Thank you so much."
"Yeah, of course, baby."
Hope you enjoyed this chapter more from the reader's perspective!! If you were not added to the taglist, it's probably because you did not reblog or leave your thoughts on the last chapter :)
the music was SO good. like every scene hit bc of the acting & the music. amazon has out done themselves with this one. i’ve been listening to the soundtrack every since it came out 🤣
and belmont facial expressions?? had me sweating crying screAMINNGGGG he was fucking amazing. the yearning had my heart squeezing omggg
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i have been listening to the soundtrack so so often, it's amazing.
Everyone I talk to about this show tells me about his expressions, they are truly the best, I can't wait to get all the other stories and of course more garretthannah moments because they are not going anywhere.
ahh ilysm babes 🫶🏻 noooooow after dealing with the heavy stuff lets talk about the cast and how they did SUCHHHH a good fucking job. like everyone just made it feel so genuine and it literally felt like a found family and i love that they gave everyone kinda their own storyline and didn’t just focus on the main couple. i’ll never be over this series everrrrrr
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it is the best book to screen adaptation. theres like minimal changes in like hmm but i trust louisa because wow amazing season, casting is perfect, music choices. Its sooo much better than i ever imagined.
It is giving more found family than in the books, and I love all of them. I’m getting to love the characters even more with the show + it’s so buzzy. I need 8 seasons more now.
so i can’t normally watch movies/tv shows that deal with sa themes but i pushed through it because i heard off campus was just really good and the way they dealt with hannah’s sa literally healed something inside me. as a sa victim, i bawled my eyes out during that scene with her mom because ive never thought about it that way. it genuinely had me pausing the screen and asking myself the same question. i know some people are mad about the different changes the show did but i thought it turned out wonderfully and they handled so many different themes/traumas so well. i will forever rewatch and love this show. they did such a good job. i tear up just thinking about it.
love ya, stay hydrated my angel baby 🫶🏻
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sunshine! first off im so sorry you went through that, you are so strong and brave. Also im so happy to hear that hannah helped you heal something, I’m sure this is what they wanted to get out of the show with her storyline. Louisa (showrunner) did a lot of research and it showed, she took it very seriously to portray and handle the situation as good as they could.
I love the show for multiple aspects and this is one of them. I cried in that scene and the one with Allie.
hi!! i tried to look through your blog before I asked but what do you use to make your smaus? yours looks so sleek & i’ve been wanting to make my own. thanks in advance <3
hi!! I use Figma 🙂↕️ I look up editable UI kits of the apps, screens and all I might need and then adapt them.
I want to add that it can get a bit tricky to edit them because of the way the kits are designed. Figma is used mostly for web and app design so if this is something out of your zone, I recommend watching youtube videos to understand better how it works <3
It happened so suddenly. In the blink of an eye. Quick— like the bang of a gun, speed and chaos and then in a split second, only the silence of the aftermath. One minute here, the next minute gone. Your mind constantly battled with itself trying to keep up with it all.
The grief followed you like a shadow. I went everywhere with you. Dulling the brightness of what your life used to be, while, somehow, making everything around you feel sharper. You kept waiting for the day that it would fade away, for your nerves to settle. But it wouldn’t be any time soon.
There were no instructions on how to handle it. No step by step guidebook, hidden awat for you to find. Nothing written down to teach you how to survive a loss like his. You remember others talking about grief. Like it was something you just move through, something that has an end point where it doesn’t disappear but it finally gets better.
Nothing about how. Or if there was any way at all.
His funeral was… nice. It was 5 weeks ago to the day. Something that was arranged by Ward. Designed by Rose. Not a single touch of the man it was for. A show put on for Ward’s connection. A grieving father of a son he didn’t give a shit about behind the scenes.
You missed him. It was almost unnatural the way your life seemed now. Everything now seemed out of place. Even brushing your teeth in the morning without his tall figure staring back at you in the mirror felt wrong. You never realized how much impact he had on you. The way you leaned onto each other. Everything without him just felt heavier.
Of all the things, you think you missed his laugh the most. Not the polite one. Not the one he’d give his friends when they thought they were being funny. The one he let out with no one else around. The one that starts in the chest but ends up with him doubled over clutching his stomach.
The silent moments swallowed you whole. The loud pricked at your skin like an invisible safety pin. There was no balance. You were either consumed by your own thoughts of him or you were drowned by everyone’s clear attempt to distract you. Conversations about nothing. Small talk to get your mind off your reality.
It rarely ever worked. You didn't know how much longer you could take this.
The cool droplets of rainy days brought no relief. Sunny days brought you no warmth. You felt it on the surface, but nothing could reach deep enough to calm the storm brewing inside of you. It felt like that comfort was something else for other people to feel.
Speculation swirled around the island about what happened. Or what they think happened. He was the talk of the town even when he wasn’t there anymore. Rumors were twisted– dramatized. Reshape in a way that either made him look like a hero or a villain. Questions on if you had anything to do with it. None of which were true.
None explained the way he truly felt.
He succumbed to the life he created for himself. Every choice he made finally caught up to him. It backed him into a corner he could no longer escape. Even if you were there, he felt nothing but alone. The voices in his head got louder by the day. The berating by Ward only grew more persistent. The drugs felt like they came in by the pound.
In the end Rafe was alone. He was pushed to his end. By his own fears. He was so far gone that nothing you could do wouldve helped him. Despite everyone reducing him to rumors and tales of what they think happened. No one knows about the small moments kept just between the two of you.
The ones that weren’t strong enough to keep him around. The ones that had more meaning than anything others could say. That only made it harder on you.
Ward and Rose were kind enough to let you stay the nights where you just needed the feeling of being close to him. You knew that it was hard on them too. Even with their tough exterior. Even with how difficult they claimed him to be. Or the pressure Ward would put on him, and the blind eye Rose would turn.
You can see the bags under his eyes, and the way Rose’s face doesn’t brighten up the way it used to. There’s an emptiness to the house now. One they all feel. His bike still sits untouched in the driveway. Your fingers graze it softly every time you walk up.
You pass the family where you see Sarah and Wheezie sitting together on the couch. Sarah’s arm is wrapped around her sister and you can hear the faint sound of sniffles. You slow your steps as you take in the scene. Your heart breaks for the young girl. Sarah had her fair share of battles with her brother. But Wheezie was too naive to know what went on on the outside.
She missed her brother and there was nothing to do to ease that pain. Sarah turned briefly, locking eyes with you. She gave you a small, understanding smile in return, making you do the same.
Upstairs, his room was exactly how he had left it that morning. Now forever frozen as a time capsule of his life. His side of the bed is still messy. The sheets tossed over to the side. An indent still visible on his pillow. Something that should’ve already faded, but it was still there. You didn’t dare to mess with it.
In the closet, his clothes still smelled like him. That musky scent lingered still. Something familiar. It clung to everything. It wasn’t unique. It was a scent that anyone could wear but he could only pull off. His signature. Him.
Your fingers brushed over each item. Finding the navy blue hoodie he wore on one of your dates to the beach. You grabbed it off the hanger, pulling it on. The warmth of him wrapped around you as you held back the tears that threatened to fall. You wiped your eyes as you made your way back to his room.
On his nightstand, a book laid haphazardly on his nightstand. A journal. One where he wrote all his thoughts down when he believed no one wanted to hear them. When the weight of the voices in his head became too loud. The only way for him to handle it was to get it all out.
You took everything in one more time, like you’ve done so many times before.
Nothing’s changed.
Everything’s the same.
All of his things will probably never be moved again.
Nothing in his room will ever serve a purpose.
Every time you walked in you hoped it would be different. That in some sick instance he’d be waiting for you on the other side of the door.
But it never did. He’d never be there again.
You slid onto the side of the bed you claimed as yours. The sheets were cool to the touch. Mirroring the feeling inside of you. Not like before. With him. Shifting to your side, looking at the empty space beside you. The bed felt huge now. Not when you weren't pressed against him. Not without his arm around you protectively as you drifted into sleep.
You could picture the way he looked so at peace when he slept. The slow rise and fall of his chest. Like the weight of the world didn’t rest achingly on his shoulders. He was so beautiful when he was asleep. No furrowed brows. No anger. Just peace. And now you were just alone.
This was what life was now.
Just quiet and alone.
an: inspired by a story on wattled - Far from Home by Bianca505298
girl the outfits are WILD. like what are some of these people thinking 😭 it’s just crazy to me that people spend thousands just to go camping in the desert with porta potties & showers that don’t work half the time and also being packed like sardines an all your stuff just out in the open for anyone to take 🫠 i get wanting to see your favorite artists but damn. i’ll never understand lol
-☀️
the ones that do it the full way, my respect to them because damn that's a lot, then there's influencers in the commodity of the brand houses or airbnbs and still I don't think is worth it 😭
I've been in the trenches for louis tomlinson, it was an unplanned and still I wouldn't do it again 😭😭
