#W Las Vegas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katemoneymartinsgf · 1 month ago

Text

Paige Bueckers x Grieving Reader

— — — — —

a/n: what an intresting month this is. missed you guys. this is rushed and not proof read. enjoy

—————

The highway stretched out in front of you, the faint glow of headlights reflecting off the after-rain pavement. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your practice clothes—there wasn’t any point. The damp scent of chlorine still clung to your skin, and the sharp sting of it in your eyes mixed with the tears you tried to blink away.

It wasn’t just a bad practice. It was everything—school, work, and the constant weight of this month pressing down on you like you were slowly being buried alive. A year. One year without her, and somehow it didn’t feel any less raw.

You scrubbed at your eyes, but it didn’t help. The chlorine, the tears—it all burned the same. You could still hear your coach’s voice, the criticism ringing in your ears, but that wasn’t what had pushed you over the edge. It was the looks from your teammates, the cautious, sidelong glances, like they were afraid to say the wrong thing. They all acted like you were on the verge of breaking, like one wrong word would be enough to send you spiraling. And maybe you were.

But that didn’t make it easier. It didn’t make it less infuriating. If anything, their pity—the eggshells they walked on around you—made everything worse. You gripped the steering wheel harder, trying to steady your breathing, but the anger simmering inside you wouldn’t settle.

Everyone expected you to fall apart. And they were waiting for it. Every word, every interaction felt like they were tiptoeing around the inevitable. But they didn’t understand. You weren’t fragile, and you didn’t want their sympathy. You just wanted... her.

The landmarks on the drive blurred by as your chest tightened, the familiar ache spreading. The cemetery was up ahead, the place you’d avoided for the past year because facing it felt impossible. But there was no avoiding it today. No avoiding the reminder that the one person who understood—who always knew what to say—was gone.

The lump in your throat swelled again, and this time, you didn’t try to fight it. You were too tired of pretending everything was fine. Too tired of holding it all in. As you wiped your face with the back of your hand, the tears fell faster, mixing with the chlorine, and for a moment, it all blurred together—the grief, the anger, the exhaustion. You blinked against the burn and kept driving.

The car slowed as you turned into the familiar entrance, the gravel crunching under your tires louder than it should have been in the stillness of the evening. The sky had turned a bruised shade of gray, the clouds heavy with the promise of rain, but you barely noticed. Everything outside felt muted—like the world was distant, while the storm inside you raged on.

You pulled up to the far corner of the cemetery, parking beneath the old oak tree that stood like a silent sentinel over her grave. For a moment, you just sat there, hands still gripping the wheel, the engine ticking softly as it cooled. You didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to face what you’d been avoiding for months. But you knew you couldn’t keep running.

With a deep breath that felt like it caught halfway up your throat, you turned off the car and stepped out. The air was cooler than you expected, the wind carrying the faint scent of rain and freshly cut grass. You stuffed your hands in your jacket pockets as you started walking, your legs heavy like they didn’t belong to you.

There it was—her headstone, the one you hadn’t visited since the funeral. It felt surreal, seeing her name carved in stone, like a part of you was still waiting for her to call, to text, to be standing there at practice with that knowing look she always gave you.

You stopped a few feet away, unsure of what to do or what to say. The anger, the frustration, the grief—it all came crashing back in one suffocating wave. How could she be gone? How had it been a year already? The lump in your throat returned, and this time you couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped.

You dropped to your knees, the grass cold and damp beneath you. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. She should be here. She should be the one telling you to keep it together, the one who always knew what you needed before you even said it.

You wiped at your eyes again, but it was no use. The tears kept coming, and the chlorine still stung, and the world felt so heavy it was a wonder you could breathe at all.

You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there. Time didn’t seem to exist anymore—just the silence, the cold, and the weight of everything you’d been carrying. Your eyes burned, but you couldn’t stop the tears from falling, each one sliding down your face as you stared at the headstone in front of you.

There were no thoughts, no words left. Just the steady stream of tears, falling for her, for everything you’d lost. It was like your body was grieving for you, crying out what your mind couldn’t process anymore.

You didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind you. It wasn’t until a warm presence settled next to you, the faint rustle of a blanket being draped over your shoulders, that you even realized Paige was there. She didn’t say anything at first. She never did in moments like this. Just her quiet, steady comfort, the way she was always there, letting you have the space you needed.

A hoodie appeared in your lap, and when you glanced up, you saw she had a few snacks in her hand too—your favorites. The simple gesture almost made you laugh, but the lump in your throat was too big. You wiped at your face again, trying to compose yourself.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice rough from the crying. “It’s all good... I just need a second.” It was the same thing you always said after nights like this, when you’d cry in her arms and then pull yourself back together like nothing had happened. Paige didn’t push; she never did.

But this time, it wasn’t enough. You knew it wasn’t enough. Something about sitting here, staring at the cold stone where her name was etched, made the truth impossible to hold in any longer.

“I’m not fine P.” The words came out shakier than you wanted, barely above a whisper, but once they were out, you couldn’t stop. “I’m not fine at all.”

She shifted beside you, her quiet presence grounding you as you tried to breathe through the sobs building in your chest. “It’s been so hard without her,” you choked out, your hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the blanket. “Nobody understands… nobody knows what it was like to lose her because they didn’t… they didn’t know her like I did. I know it’s selfish to say but they didn’t”

Paige didn’t say anything, but you felt her hand gently slide over yours, her thumb brushing against your knuckles in that soothing way she always did.

“She was everything,” you continued, your voice breaking now. “I don’t know how to be a real person without her. It’s like… I’m not me anymore. I haven’t been doing good in school , not even in polo—” You shook your head, trying to swallow the wave of emotion rising in your chest. “I haven’t been good this year. I keep trying to play for her, but getting into the pool every day without her there… it hurts. I feel like I’m letting her down because I’m not as good, but I don’t know how to do it without her. I just feel… empty.”

You broke then, the sobs tearing through you as you buried your face in your hands. Paige pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you, and for the first time, you let yourself fall apart completely. No more holding back, no more pretending. Just raw, aching grief pouring out of you.

She held you tightly as your body trembled against her, her arms wrapped around you like a shield from the world. She didn’t rush you, didn’t try to pull you out of the wave of emotions crashing over you. She was just there—steady, warm, and patient, like always.

When your sobs began to quiet and your breathing slowed, she shifted slightly, just enough to lean back and look at you. Her hands gently brushed the hair away from your tear-streaked face. “Talk to me,” she whispered softly. “Tell me about her . I want to know more… how she was different. What made her so special to you baby”

Her voice was calm, careful—never pressing, but just enough to let you know she wanted to listen, wanted to understand. You had been so closed off for so long when it came to her. Paige had seen you break down before, but you rarely let her into the deeper parts of that grief.

For a long moment, you couldn’t find the words. Your mind raced with memories, so many moments that felt too precious to even describe. But you owed it to her—to your best friend—to try. And maybe… maybe you owed it to yourself too.

“She was just… everything.” Your voice was shaky, but Paige’s hands, gently stroking your back, helped steady you. “She had this way of making everyone around her feel important, like… you were the only one in the room that mattered. But she never needed the attention herself. She just… gave.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes again, but this time, they felt different. They weren’t just tears of grief—they were tears of gratitude too, for the memories you held so dear. “I remember the way she always encouraged me. No matter how bad my practice was, she’d be right there, cheering me on, telling me how much she believed in me. It made everything else fade away. And now…” Your voice faltered again, but you pressed on, desperate to share this part of her with Paige.

“She would have loved you,” you said suddenly, the words spilling out like a revelation. “She would have thought you were the coolest person ever. She would have been so proud of me for being with you.”

Paige’s expression softened, and you saw something flicker in her eyes—something deep, something understanding. “I’m eternally indebted to her, then,” she replied, her voice steady. “For making you who you are. For helping me fall in love with you.”

The weight of those words hung between you like a bridge, connecting the past and present, your shared grief and your shared love. You took a shaky breath, trying to gather your emotions.

“Paige, I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel broken. Like I’m not whole anymore. How do I live without her?”

Paige squeezed your hands, her eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity. “You’re not broken,” she said firmly, her voice low and soothing. “You’re grieving. It’s okay to feel that way. But you’re not alone. You have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the truth in her words, even if the path ahead felt daunting. “It just hurts so much.”

“I know baby” She leaned closer, her forehead resting against yours. “But you don’t have to carry it alone. You can share it with me, we’ll find a way to carry her memory with us.”

You let the warmth of her words seep in, wrapping around your heart like a comforting embrace. For the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope, a glimpse of light breaking through the darkness that had felt so all-consuming.

“I don’t want to forget her,” you whispered, the tears still lingering in your eyes. “I want to keep her memory alive, but I don’t know how.”

“By talking about her, like you just did,” Paige said softly. “By remembering the good times, the way she made you feel, and how she shaped who you are. You can keep that part of her with you forever.”

The sky above began to darken, and a light drizzle started, but you didn’t mind. The cool rain felt refreshing, a cleansing reminder that even in the midst of grief, there could be healing. You felt her shift beside you, and before you could fully register what was happening, she leaned in, pressing her lips softly against yours.

The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, but it held a depth of feeling that resonated deep within you. It was a promise—a vow that no matter how heavy the grief felt, you weren’t alone. You pulled back, breathless, and couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions.

“Wow,” you said, a teasing smile breaking through the remnants of your tears. “What was that for?”

“Just wanted to remind you,” Paige replied, her eyes sparkling, “that it’s okay to feel everything. And that I’m here, no matter what.”

You smiled back, warmth flooding your chest. “Okay, good, because I’m not really sure how to be a person without her. And I’m still figuring that out.”

Paige chuckled lightly, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “Well, we’ll figure it out together. But first, how about we grab those snacks I brought? I’m pretty sure I have your favorite.”

You nodded, feeling lighter than you had in what felt like ages. As you stood up, you let the blanket slip from your shoulders, a sense of renewal washing over you. The sky might still be dark, but you could see a flicker of light breaking through, just enough to guide you forward.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe again.

As the drizzle began to fall in earnest, you and Paige shared a quiet moment, gazing out at the sky. You felt an unspoken understanding between you, a bond forged in shared grief and love. And just as you were about to turn back to the car, a sudden thought crossed your mind, prompting a mischievous grin.

“Paige,” you said, laughter dancing in your voice, “are you sure those snacks are worth braving the rain for?”

She rolled her eyes playfully, smirking back at you. “rain never stopped me baby.” she said with a cockiness that was soon erased by the sound of thunder and her sprinting back to your side

you burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the cemetery, mingling with the sound of the rain as you led her back to the car.

“i think you being afraid of thunder is the silliest thing” you teased squeezing her hand.

“i’m literally not, everyone gets startled by a loud noise hello.” “yeah well not everyone runs away like that” you say bringing your hands up and planting a kiss to hers. Hand in hand you walked back to the car, feeling lighter, and for the first time in a long while, ready to face whatever came next.

—-

185 notes · View notes