4 Years Gone || Headcanon || Jaide
Suggested Listening: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5mJ08-pyDLg
Sometimes, he could see her.
He’d be walking down the street, through the market or simply pausing for a brief respite in a walk, and she’d walk by - all bouncing curls and soft curves, and a smile that would stop him in his tracks (not that she ever knew it, silly thing). For that second, that instant, she was there again, so real he could reach out and touch her.
But the next? She was gone.
The nose would be wrong, the eyes not hers, and it would simply be some imposter. A look alike caught from the corner of his eye, sparking a hope in him he thought he’d killed years ago.
Sometimes, he could feel her.
It would be the silly things, the little things, in which he’d feel her there most. When he lay awake in bed, he could almost imagine her arms winding around him, the drag of her nails cheekily on his skin, sending him to sleep with a sad smile and sigh.
Making tea was a chore. One mug, one tea pot, always too much tea, and in the pouring, he’d turn, look to an empty table for answers to questions he’d never get to ask again:
“‘Nother cup of tea, love?”
And it would hit him, all over again, that she was gone, that she was never coming back. That table would always be empty, and those words would always be left unsaid.
Sometimes, he could hear her.
She was a constant presence in the back of his mind, whispering little words he remembered from their years together:
I love you.
You’re such a foolish boy!
Of course! It seemed like a good idea at the time.
….Ffamran….
He could hear her there, passing judgement on the days that passed, but, with every moment, he remembered a little less of the tone, of the lilt of her accent, of the enunciation of her words. Every year, she slipped from him bit by bit. She was like sand - the more he tried to hold onto her, the more he lost her, made her murky around the edges til there was naught left but hollow fog.
Those days he’d toy with the rings upon his hands, and sigh, salt upon his lips. For she was gone, when they had promised each other forever. Somewhere inside, he knew one day, there would be nothing left.
Every day he lost a little more.
Every year, left him wishing he hadn’t.
Every moment… found him missing her.