Shane and Meredith (original character) sitting on the dock at the pond in Cindersap Forest. Next to each other, their bare feet dangle in the water while they talk. Shane opens up about his depression briefly. They share a brief romantic moment that confuses and terrifies both of them of their feelings.
“I do the same thing every day as if it’s going to change. Every day, I wake up, put the same clothes on, and I go to work. I work and put up with that dickhead of a boss, micromanaging every little movement I make, and I pray for it to be over. When it is over, I go to Gus’s, and I drink to dull the pain in my body, because I ache. All. Day. Every joint and muscle in my body just hurts constantly. Then, because I drink the night away, I feel like I’ve failed somehow. That I wasn’t strong enough to just… deal with it, I guess. Just get over it on my own. I go home, drunk, and can’t sleep despite that. I toss and I turn and if I do sleep? Ugh, the nightmares. Reliving every single failure of my life. I just-” He stopped. The sudden horror of realization that he had said that all out loud hit him like a punch to the gut. His face flushed red, and he turned his gaze away from her, ashamed. He couldn’t stand the pity. She must think him weak now, just as he truly was.
She didn’t know what to say. The words linger in the air between them, potent and heavy. Her heart hurts for him, and she’s overwhelmed by the first time really seeing him — and in him, she saw herself. She’s felt the same many times before. She never turned to alcohol, but working herself to death every day in an office for the profit of others was just as much of a vice that ate away at her soul as any other substance might have. She knew the dreams well, the nights that never ended, and the sleep that never came. The mental exhaustion and emotional torment of dealing with people who would just as easily stab her in the back as they would offer a fake smile.
When she could no longer handle the silence, she removed her feet from the water and stood up. She nudged his shoulder with the back of her hand for him to do the same. He just looked at her.
“Come on,” She encouraged.
“What? Why?” He remained seated.
“Just get up,” She insisted with feigned annoyance, trying to be intimidating. She stood only at five feet even, and her small laugh betrayed her in any act of seriousness. The act made him smirk, amused by the stance, but his eyes remained suspicious of her and her intentions. He stood. She held her arms out toward him, and he took a step back.
“Are you kidding me right now? Come here!” She laughed at his reluctance. He contemplated briefly and ultimately decided to move closer. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug. The only thing she could offer in moments like this was the comfort of her presence. And comfort it did - the warmth of her body against his began to sink in. Without thought, he wrapped his arms around her waist and embraced her back. She smiled to herself and sighed, relieved to be accepted. Time stopped existing and only they remained there on the dock in the low light of the sunset, holding one another. He closed his eyes and, despite himself, buried his face into her neck. He took in her scent - she smelled of strawberries and hay - sweet and earthy. She rested her hand on the nape of his neck, her thumb stroking back and forth in his hair. Possessed by her, he nuzzled into her neck, and his lips brushed against her skin.
This snapped her back into conscious thought. She felt her heart begin to beat hard in her chest as he tightened his arms around her and fully kissed her neck - once, twice. Three times. He was lost in her; he was beyond himself, moving on the notion of longing for pure intimacy from her - and only her. She pulled her head back to find his eyes, searching for some answer. Was it real? Did his actions speak true to his potential feelings for her? They had only been friends. Increasingly close friends, but friends nonetheless. Their shared green gazes locked. If he wasn’t already lost in her embrace, the depth of her mossy green eyes - the color of new spring leaves - would lead him astray all on their own. He leaned down. She remained, gripping his shoulders. Their lips mere inches apart. She could feel his breath against her cheek and he felt hers.
“Shane?” She whispered, afraid of breaking the silence between them, but needing to hear him speak - to speak or to kiss her.
“I have to go.” He said abruptly, making her flinch. He retreated from her in a rush, grabbing his shoes from the dock.
“I’m sorry,” She stammered.
He held his hand up to stop her from continuing, “There’s no need.” He smiled weakly to reassure her, but he was unsure himself. His thoughts were scrambled, and he just needed to run from that feeling - the feeling of her comfort that he surely didn’t deserve, some way, somehow. He turned from her and hurried home, barefoot and flustered.
She was unaware of the tears welling in her eyes until they fell from her cheeks. She wiped them away furiously, embarrassed. She grabbed her own shoes and, once he was out of sight, ran home. She ran to hide herself, just like him. Maybe if she got far enough away from that moment, it never happened. She made it to her little home and closed the door behind her. She panted against the wood and closed her eyes. She could still feel him. The evening was still young, but she changed out of her clothing and went to bed anyway. She pulled the sheets up to her chin, laying on her back, and closed her eyes, but sleep never came. She imagined it was the same for him.
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