#it reminds me of that one line in ilitw that makes me think that noah marshall was meant to be a kind of li but it didn't work in ilitw

[puredoesnotmeankind]

Please, all the LIs are so gorgeous and are great characters and their individual dynamics with Bolas!MC (as well as the other members of the Party) are top-tier, they are wavering my will to romance Noah Marshall.02.

So actually it's exactly like ILITW

[livesbeneath]

six feet between.

pairing: noah x female mc (harley blanco)

summary: to be caught trespassing in a cemetery is bad enough without a preceding criminal record. he knows visiting westchester is risky, and that being out in the open isn’t the smartest idea, but he finds it somewhat therapeutic, maybe in a sickening way, to occasionally come full circle after his stops at the ruins. 

word count: 1.9k.

author’s note: after around a two(?) month hiatus of sorts?? i have written something i don’t actually HATE???  i had this idea last night at three am after playing a chapter of ilitw, and wrote a large portion of it then, so i apologize if it’s a little hard to follow!  i’m proud of how it turned out, especially when considering the way the noah / mc relationship ends as in ilb. all forms of feedback are appreciated! please try to leave a comment if you can!

disclaimer: i do not own these characters (except harley). creative liberty has been taken to make this story unique, and i do not intend to use it for profit in any way.

The oldest headstone in the Westchester Peace Cemetery dates back to the 1700s, specifically 1768. It honors a woman named Eliza Rosemund, who was thirty eight at the time of her death. The quote etched on her tomb is worn, but reads something like: “beloved mother and daughter, go gently.”. There is a noticeably large chunk missing from the top of the grave.

Noah Marshall has been by this plot so many times that he can rattle all this information with ease. A run of the mill bystander would think it was Ms. Rosemund he was visiting so often, but anyone who knows him would know that this isn’t the case.

That is, if they had mind that he was there at all.

As he makes his way over the fence, something he’s mastered by now, Noah takes note of the way fog seems confined only to the burial grounds. He shakes his head and plants his feet firm on the dirt below, then crouching down behind a headstone. Precautions are always taken to make sure he’s alone at times like this. Carefully, he turns back to inspect the way he came, relieved to see only the woods that normally guard him from the public eye staring back. To be caught trespassing in a cemetery is bad enough without a preceding criminal record. He knows visiting Westchester is risky, and that being out in the open isn’t the smartest idea, but he finds it somewhat therapeutic, maybe in a sickening way, to occasionally come full circle after his stops at the ruins.

Beyond Eliza Rosemund’s grave, still along the same path, but in the more modern part of the cemetery - sits the headstone of Harley Blanco.

Once he’s sure he’s alone, Noah hoists himself up, allowing himself to drift into the fog. Maybe at a young age, he would be afraid of trudging through a sea of tombs in the middle of the night. While the thought of countless dead, dusty, decomposed or decomposing bodies below his feet is still slightly unnerving, he is aware that he is currently the most terrible thing on the premises. Guilt is the reason he’s here at all. Guilt, and longing, one could say.

With Harley’s very being split in two, her body in one place, her soul in another - he thinks it only fair to honor all of her instead of a mere part of her. He knows nothing will ever make up for missing her funeral, but he figures he’s carried anguish similar to those who attended. If not similar, the fact that what he’s done eats him alive and spits him back out every night is enough to warrant a visit.

“Shoot!” he whispers briskly as he nearly trips over a twig, grip on the homemade present he’s brought nearly slipping out of his grasp.

While in the woods earlier, he stalled leaving the spiritual Harley behind by peeling moss patches off of logs. Now, along with a bundle of dandelions he picked from outside the gate, he’s used them to make a makeshift bouquet. The fact that they’re just weeds makes the weight of the offering even heavier in his fist. He knows she deserves something nicer, especially from him. There’s no doubt in her mind that her grave is pre-decorated, though. He’s deduced that her parents must visit often, because there’s always a replenished gaggle of gifts waiting at the base of the headstone whenever he arrives.

Her parents, he thinks. God, they must fucking hate him.

His footfalls grow slower, heavier as he approaches some of the newer plots. The more recent dates that decorate the slabs crowded around the area remind him that it hasn’t been that long since that fateful night in the grotto. Being on the run makes each day blur together, which means by the time he’s stepped back to give himself a reality check, months have passed. It’s been a year and a half, but Noah swears she’s been gone for an eternity.

He’s no stranger to this feeling, of course, as he’s been professionally trained in mind-numbing grief since Jane’s demise a decade or so prior. Still, he realizes now that there was some hope back then. Compared to how things are now, his sitting alone every day at school seems overwhelmingly trivial. Still, being acquainted with grief does not make the moment he sits down before her grave any easier. Each time he does so, the slap in the face that is the fact that she’s actually dead leaves a searing mark. He isn’t an openly affectionate person, but not having her strong arm to lean on, both physically and metaphorically, is something he’ll never get used to.

Harley Blanco’s headstone in the Westchester Peace Cemetery commemorates her death back in 2017, specifically October of that year. She was eighteen at the time of her death. The quote etched on her tomb is intricately done, and clearly reads: “beloved daughter and friend, we are together always, even in death.”. His offering of a bundle of dandelions pales in comparison to the fresh roses left by her parents.

As much as he wants a cigarette in that moment, Noah knows lighting one is a surefire way to be caught. The air around him has grown colder since planting himself six feet above Harley’s coffin. The feeling that he’s being watched from somewhere, by someone, gnaws at his stomach, and he peers around his peripheral vision, careful not to move his head. With the newly plunged temperature, everything around him seems to freeze. All until-

“Noah…?”

He jumps, whirling around so fast he almost cracks an elbow on the headstone near him. Noah doesn’t know what he expects to see, exactly. Maybe it’s his mother, and she’s known of his escapades back and forth to Westchester for some time now. Maybe it’s Stacy Green, and she’s finally tracked him down, hell-bent on making him pay. While his mind could create hypotheticals until sunrise, what he actually sees surprises him much more.

There, flanked by ornate gravestones, half fog and half shadow, is a pair of glowing blue eyes.

“Harley?” he breathes, splayed out like a spider before her. “Wh-What are you doing here? Did you follow me?”

As if playing a game, Harley moves with the mist hanging heavy in the air, curling around him and cheering “Found you! I win!”

Noah sits in her visceral grasp for a moment, glancing in disbelief between what’s left of Harley, and the slab of stone that marks her supposed final resting place. The feeling that she’s been beside him all along, traveling in his shadow to this spot, sinks in. Finally, he sighs.

“Harley, you can’t do this anymore. I’m gonna take you back to the ruins, okay?”

“Nooooooo…” she drawls, a tinge of orange in her eyes. “Stay with Noah!”

Slight dread pools in his stomach as he finds himself unable to stand, her lock on him too tight. The hardest part of every visit with Harley is leaving her at the end of the night. Noah is all too familiar with the fiery pain that sits in the embers of what are now her eyes. She’s gotten articulate enough over their course of their lessons to voice that she’s afraid that when he leaves, he won’t come back for her. While he’s thrilled she’s learning to feel again, he wishes he hadn’t taught her such distress.

He narrows his eyes, frowning. “Let me stand, Harley. You win.”

“I win!” the spectre cheers, twirling into the air, tail of shadow whipping past his face. Noah stands. As he dusts himself off, he takes a deep breath, attempting to look through the thick fog for unwelcome guests.

“Ssssshhh!” he hisses, finger to his lips. “You can’t be loud here!”

“Ssssshhh!” she parrots, mimicking his movements until they’re eye to eye. He notices hers are burning blue again.

A sigh. “That’s right, Harles. Nice and quiet. It’s time to get you home.”

The monster lowers her clawed hand, eyes wide, boring into his. For a moment, his blood runs cold. Noah watches as she slowly gazes away from him, off into the distance. Gradually, she floats away from him, higher than he can reach, staring out towards the exit of the cemetery. Not towards the woods, but towards town.

“Home…” she whispers. Wind carries her words to him, but the trees don’t move.

“Harley…” he realizes his mistake.

She turns to him again, eyes orange, wide as saucers. “Go home.” she states.

“No, not - not there. I meant back to the ruins. That’s your home now.”

“Nooooooo… not home! Not home! Not home!”

The wind begins to pick up, but it seems to touch him and nothing else. His jacket isn’t enough to shield him from the way the temperature drops. Harley’s eyes blaze as she grows more frantic, zipping from tombstone to tombstone, moaning the same two words over and over again. Noah holds a hand out to her, but finds himself using it to steady himself when the vortex she’s created amidst her panic threatens to knock him to the ground.

He watches in horror as the frantic ghoul grabs a headstone and pulls it from the ground, tossing it like a softball to the side. It hits the stone walkway with a sickening crunch. She makes her way to the next slab in line, repeating the process with ease.

“Harley! Harley, stop!” he shouts, holding his beanie to his head.

“Home!” she cries in return. “Want to go home!”

“We have to get out of here! Stop that! Stop it!”

Noah hits the ground as she prepares to swing again, scrambling up against the headstone dedicated to her. Harley rounds on him, desperate, but stops short when she sees his hand held out. He presses himself up against the headstone, breathing heavily. She stares, seemingly past him, back in the same trance from before.

“You’re okay, girl.” he assures her. “You’re okay.”

When she doesn’t respond, he moves to the side slightly, and she glides closer to the headstone. Noah lets out a deep breath, watching her eyes move as she scans the inscriptions on the stone. Carefully, as if touching it will burn her, Harley holds out a clawed hand to the marker.

“Harley…” she breathes.

Noah stays silent, head hung in remorse.

The monster coils back slightly, the hand that touched the stone now held over where her heart should be.

“I… Harley.” she looks to Noah and cocks her head to the side. “I Harley?”

“Yeah.” he mutters in response. “You are.”

Silence hangs between them. For a moment, he lets his reservations about being caught fade away. Harley sinks to the floor, sitting beside him as if she has legs to cross. The fact that her two forms, corporeal and spiritual, are only six feet between each other is not lost on him. It makes him nauseous to see. They were so close.

She mirrors him once again, this time looking desperately sad as she gazes from him, to the headstone. Noah watches as she reaches out to the flowers littering the base of the grave, and expects her to pick up the roses.

In a clawed hand, she presents him the dandelions.

“For me?”

He stares. The weeds look so small in her monstrous hand.

“Yeah.”

Harley looks down at the offering once more. Her eyes burn a subtle blue.

“For my cave.” she tells him.

Noah looks up at her, confused. “What?”

“For my cave.” she replies. Her free hand reaches out to him and hovers over his chest. “To… feel like home.”

He presses her claw to where his heart is.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

[stayfallentasticc]

The Road That Leads to You

Pairing:  (Dan x MC)* x Noah  (It Lives In The Woods)

Words: 4,651 words

Summary: The development of Dan and MC’s relationship; a deeper look into how Dan falls for MC and MC as a whole. The green, red lights and stop signs of their relationship. 

Sneak peek: He didn’t know when the pieces started to form. All he knew was that the puzzle was her and he wanted to piece it together. Piece her together. What her dreams and hopes were; what she wanted to do when she got out of school. No one really asked her about her life, everyone was so consumed with letting her piece theirs - he figured she probably didn’t have the time to fix herself. Piece herself. 

Notes: This story took me such awhile to brainstorm. I didn’t know what direction I wanted to take this story. I really didn’t. I hope it has as much love that ‘In His Veins’ did. I wanted to look into MC’s storyline more. Deeper. ILITW MC is my favorite MC: so strong, charismatic, and loyal. Yet that’s just the surface. I wanted to see how Dan would view her. Fall for her as much as I did. See her trouble and how it breaks her down and with that everyone around her. You may hate me. Apologizes in advance. It sucks, I know. 

Masterlist 

It’s been awhile since they hung out together. A l o n e. It was right after school, the sun was nowhere to be seen, the clouds were gathered in the sky. Unwelcoming. The sky had turned from a bright blue to a gravel gray. It was pouring. She was standing under the safety of the building away from the rain. He would notice her silhouette anywhere. 

Dan cleared his throat, umbrella dangling from his wrist. He walks towards her, his footsteps light. She turns at the sound of his footsteps; her hair pulled in a sleek ponytail whipping her face. He holds his breath. 

“Don’t have an umbrella?” Dan asks, he pulls his mouth into a lopsided smile. She raises her shoulders before quickly dropping them.

“No.” She answers. “Did me standing under here for shelter gave it away?” She playfully rolls his eyes at him; reminding him of times when they used to hang out in his treehouse and how he would always jokingly tell her ‘no girls allowed’ which earned him a eye roll. He remembers her. He remembers it all.

He laughs. “Hm, maybe. Or it could be the fact that you always liked the rain….” Dan trails off, he’s well aware of how he sounds, instantly regretting saying the last sentence. 

She turns to get a better view of him, her head tilted to the side. He’s grateful for the rain hitting the building hard, grateful that it hides the sound of his own heart beating. Lately, he’s been grateful. So grateful. 

“Yeah, I-I used to like it.” She smiles weakly. He’s so familiar with lost of oneself. He’s been there. “I used to, but now rainy days just remind me of sad thoughts.” She laughs, but it doesn’t quite reach the pits of her stomach. He knows that she’s holding back from saying more - she’s biting her lips, a common practice she does.

“You’re biting your lips. You’re holding back.” Dan points out, he reaches forward and pulls at her cheeks. Her mouth opens in shock. It’s been awhile since he touched her. It’s been awhile. He drops his hand quickly and coughs. “What I meant to say is that you don’t have to hide anything from me, silly.” 

She smiles up at him. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to upset our star quarterback. Don’t want coach to tell me to do fifty push-ups.”

“Mhm, rest assured I wouldn’t let him do that to you.”  He shakes his head, a smile still plastered on his face. Dan opens his umbrella, stepping out from underneath shelter. He holds out his free hand, gesturing her to step forward. “C’mon now, I don’t want someone as pretty as you to get rained on. I’ll drive you back home.” 

She takes his hand and offers him the smile that takes him years back. A smile he always loved, especially when it was directed to him. He feels the weight of her hand against his, small and frail, nothing compared to his. 

They’re huddled underneath his umbrella; shoulder to shoulder. He can practically feel her warmth. He hears her giggle softly, he hears the sound of his car unlocking, and the opening of the passenger door as she slides in the seat. He hears it all. 

Dan wouldn’t have thought he would be here with her today; all events leading up to them not talking seemed permanent. Yet, here she was giving him another chance and allowing herself to be vulnerable with him. He was unable to open up and he hated it even more when he shut her out. 

He turns on the ignition, the car coming to life. He reverses out of the parking. He hates the silence that passes over them, he knows if he just kept in contact with her prior to him losing his insanity they wouldn’t be in this situation.  

“You okay?” She asks him, the color of streetlights blurring into the night. He briefly looks at her before diverting his attention back to the road. He offers her a small smile.  “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m with you. I’m fine. Better than what I’ve felt before.” His words come out in a rush, he lets out a slow breath. “I’m sorry, what I meant to say was that, I’m sorry that I didn’t….let you in. You were my best friend and….now we’re back to square one.” Dan’s grip on the steering wheel deepens, he sees her in the corner of his eyes shrink back into the seat. He gulps hard.

“I wished you had let me in.” She admits, she’s staring off to the distant. “But, I knew where you were coming from. A place of lost. Unfamiliarity.” She whispers. “I get it. It’s okay. We’re here with eachother right now?” She leans forward and Dan feels the weight of her hand against his shoulder and the squeeze that follows soon after. “In fact, I know a mean pizza place down around this area.” 

“You sure your parent’s won’t mind?” Dan asks, he raises a brow. “it’s getting pretty late.”

“No, I don’t think they would mind.” She answers, she runs her fingers through her ponytail. “They’re out for another cruise trip.” 

“Oh.” Dan frowns, his eyebrows furrows close together. He doesn’t know how it affects her, he hasn’t been around, but he’s pretty sure she gets a bit lonely. It would get lonely wouldn’t it? 

“Yeah.” She sighs softly. “I’m use to it, and make the turn on the next stop. The place should be on your left.” 

He nods his head and does as she asks, and sure enough it is. He parks the car and takes a good look at her, he takes her all in. He sees how her lips curl in a natural frown, he hopes maybe tonight she won’t go home sad. 

A l o n e. 

He leans forward and tucks a strand of her hair, and smiles. “Let’s go get ourselves a mean pizza, it’s on me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

As he rounds the corner to open her door, umbrella opened for cover from the rain. She greets him with a warm smile. He falters in his step a bit.  

The night was filled with two fools laughing. 

Dan finds himself holding his breath when he sees Her and Noah sitting on the bench. He had just turned the corner of the hallway and didn’t expect to see them. He tilts his head to get a better view of the scene. He watches how she blinks, her mouth wide opened and how Noah fiddles with his fingers. 

Despite, how his heart clenches just a bit from the sight of them. He can’t help but still be in awe from her beauty and presence. The thing is he didn’t expect to grow attached to her; sure they’ve been attached at the hip when they were kids. But, he figured, after everything that has happened - the traumatic experience -  they would just be friends that shared it and nothing more. But he knew he was wrong, at least on his part. he waited for her to reply back to his text. He waited for the days where she would agree to go out to eat. He waited for her. Waited patiently like a fool. 

“You’re so funny, Noah.” She shakes her head. “If you needed a friend, I’m right here.” She gestures for him to lay his head down on her lap to which he does. Dan figures Noah must have asked for her permission to do that. Noah’s face brightens, a flash of happiness that Dan hasn’t seen before evident in his face. 

It was a rather intimate moment in Noah’s part, Dan could see how much she meant to him. He couldn’t really blame Noah; he felt that exact same way too. He felt that way ever since they were kids. He felt things for her that he tried to bury. 

“Funny, huh?” Dan finds himself echoing in the hallway, he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his sweats. He just gotten out of practice, but it really isn’t the heat or the exercise that got him sweating. It was this. 

He knew he didn’t have the right to feel jealous, they weren’t anything. He didn’t make her his, he didn’t make it official on those ‘friendly’ dates. He sees Noah hesitate just for a split second as he laid his head down. His face was red, stained with tears from crying. 

He didn’t know when the pieces started to form. All he knew was that the puzzle was her and he wanted to piece it together. Piece her together. What her dreams and hopes were; what she wanted to do when she got out of school. No one really asked her about her life, everyone was so consumed with letting her piece theirs - he figured she probably didn’t have the time to fix herself. 

Piece herself. 

It takes him a good minute to realize that she needs him. Now. She’s on the phone, her voice cracks and he swears he hears her sniff. His cellphone is pressed way too tight against his ear, he’s trying to read between the lines. 

Should he go to her? Should he? 

He blinks a good time, listens to her talk about how she’s just really tired. So tired. He tells her to take a quick nap, if she is, to which she laughs. She tells him she will and a goodbye ensues soon after. 

She doesn’t know that Dan has his keys in his hands ready to see her. He quickly rushes to the refrigerator and brings the leftover ice cream he has. He wants to be there for her. He hurriedly goes into his car and speeds to her house. 

He hesitates knocking on her door, he contemplates that maybe she’s already sleeping and that he’s just overreacting. He bites his lower lip, something in him urges him to. He knocks quietly at first, but soon after it becomes urgent. 

She opens it, her eyes widens at the realization it’s him. Her lips trembles and she pulls him into a hug; collapsing into his arm. He hugs her tightly and kisses the side of her face. It’s been awhile since he heard her cry. It’s been awhile since he so badly wanted to protect her. The ice cream on the porch long forgotten as long as she’s embracing him. 

“Shh, it’s going to be okay.” He cooes into her ear, swaying her back and forth. Her sobs getting quieter as time passes on, he lays his hand on the back of her hair and softly pats her head.

She pulls away, and holds him at arms length. He feels her grip and how it’s much weaker this time around, and takes in how her shirt is slightly drenched in tears. “Thank you for coming, Dan. I didn’t think you would. I know you’re - .”

“I would. For you.” He cuts her off and smooths her hair, beckoning her to go inside. “It’s really no problem.” Dan tries to keep his voice firm and strong as he bends down and shakes the ice cream out in front of her. “I brought you ice cream. I mean….ice cream from my house. I figured you would need it.”

She nods her head, and it’s the first smile he sees from her this whole week and he swears his heart is swelling at the sight. She’s so special, and she isn’t aware of it. 

He steps inside her house, taking in the pictures plastered on the wall. He feels his hand stretch out unconsciously, lightly outlining her face. A face that smiles back at him. A face that has yet to experience pain. He hears her call out to him, and he follows her quickly after to the kitchen. Two bowls are laid out in front of her, he watches intently as she scoops up small portion of the ice cream and places them onto the bowl. He takes it earnestly.

They walk over to her sofa, they plop themselves down. She’s sitting opposite of him and they’re talking about everything and everything from her fears of Redfield and how she feels like her parent’s don’t care at all. She thanks him for the ice cream and he tells her it’s really nothing. He cracks jokes here and there that make her laugh and it’s these exact moments he has with her that he carries into his heart. It’s these moments he’ll carry to his grave.

She yawns, and rubs at her eyes. 

He places the bowl on the side, and pats the couch absentmindedly. “I’ll be here in the morning, now sleep.” Sleep. 

He removes his jacket and places it over her. Bobby pins falling out of her hair as she snuggles closer to the pillow on her sofa. He knows he should look away, but he can’t bring himself to. He feels if he just stayed a bit, he could look into her. 

See Her. 

Actually see her. 

Dan swears her laughter is his favorite sound, and how it’s that type of laughter that waters flowers. How her hair falls over her shoulder as she throws her head back and how that very image is his favorite sight and he can’t quite fathom how anyone could not fall for her. He can’t recall how many times his heart has leapt over his chest at the sight of her.

Her eyes flicks over to him, she’s no longer talking to Ava and he swears his eyes are staring back into her, lustfully. Lovingly. He can’t decide between the two: it’s too soon to be in love, yet the feeling he feels in his stomach it’s something different. Something he can’t exactly pinpoint.

He quickly looks away.

He feels Stacy gaze at him, eyebrow raised in curiosity before she casually gestures at Her from across the room. Stacy smirks at him and he flicks her the finger. She leans back and chuckles, waving her index finger in the air.

“She likes you,” Stacy pokes his shoulder, wiggling her eyebrows. He feels a bit flustered. He scratches the back of his neck, glad that his bangs seemed to cover a hint of his eyes.

“We’re just friends.” He mutters, he tugs at the strings of his hoodie; feeling the sudden urge to tie it back and just disappear for a good second or two. But when he lifts his gaze from Stacy to her, he finds that she’s staring bak at him.

He’s staring back at her.

He thinks that friends don’t usually look at the way that they’re both looking at each other. Granted, he knows he doesn’t look at Stacy like that. And he feels a bit hopeful that Stacy isn’t just saying things to say things.

He thinks maybe luck is on his side for once.

“What are you thinking of, Dan?” She asks, taking a deep breath. 

He thinks of the fact that when no one’s looking, he removes himself from the scene, closes the door quietly behind him and walks to her car. He thinks of how he waited by her passenger-side door and how his hands were cold for a split second from the night and his face numb. But how he knew he had to tell her. Let her know. He knew it wouldn’t be right to not tell her. 

That’s what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t say it out loud. Of course, he doesn’t. 

He shrugs his shoulders. “How you’re too good of a person and how none of us are lucky to call you their friend.” He says, his voice going higher as he continues. “How I really rather not call you a friend, but something more. How pretty you look in the moonlight.” He presses on, she lets out an easy smile. She looks so hopeful, and he so badly wants to hold her hand and kiss Her. 

“So, by that logic, does that mean you want to kiss me?” She adds on, grinning widely and he knows she’s playing around. But he isn’t. He really isn’t. 

Yes.

No. You might realize you don’t feel the same for me as I do you. 

Yes. It’s all I think about. 

So, he takes the leap of faith and tips his face to the side. Their lips touch and her lips feel like heaven. He thinks that if he dies right now. He would be okay. He would be fine, at least he managed to check something out of his bucket list — kiss a pretty girl, kiss the girl. His hand presses hard against her waist. Her hand grazes the delicate line of his jaw, reciprocating the kiss with just as much tenderness. 

He feels the tightening of his stomach and the realization that he’ll be able to kiss her again. 

Over.

And over. 

Dan figures it’s appropriate to tell everyone, and by everyone he means their closed friends, that they’re together ‘together’ at the coffee shop near their school. 

“So, we’re kinda a thing.” He announces, his voice comes out a bit hushed. Ava shifts in her seat, and leans forward, definitely a bit confused. Lily twirls a strand of her hair in her hands, nodding her head as if she knew all along. 

“Kinda? As in are? Or?” Ava questions, earning a pointed look from Lucas.

Lucas coughs. “What Ava meant to say was, so it’s official?”

“Mhm” He hears her says besides him, she entwines her fingers with his and smiles up at them. Dan feels the corner of his own mouth pull into a grin.

“Oh.” Is all Noah manages to say, he shifts his feet side to side. Dan notices how Noah clears his throat and takes account how his face looks almost pinched at the corners. Conflicted. 

Before Dan could say anything, Stacy chimes in. “I’m so happy for you both!” Stacy exclaims, pulling both Dan and Her into her arms. “I mean, I knew something was going on - you both seemed happier.”

Happier.

He takes a quick glance at her and hopes that’s the truth. He hopes that him being beside her could heal the wounds that the past has caused. Heal the very wounds that she healed for him. She notices him staring at her and punches his shoulders lightly, he lets out a laugh and holds her hand. Dan brings it to his lips. He presses a gentle kiss to it and hopes she knows that he’s everything he ever wanted. He puts everything he feels into it. 

Everything.

He didn’t think this would happen. 

He didn’t think he would have survived. 

He sees her in the corner of his eyes as he gets out of the house. He watches as she stumbles out, face blank, eyes wide open. Stunned. 

What happened back there? 

She has nightmares of Noah, some days when he’s sleeping over her place and when everything is a bit quieter than usual. He hears her choke back the tears and he feels her turn in her sleep. 

Dan wakes up and sits upright, he rubs at his eyes and pats her back; tries his best to soothe her back to sleep. He switches her light on and takes in how her eyebrow are furrowed close together, the sweat that is evident on her brow and how her lips twitches just slightly. It pains him. He seen her at her lowest, but this…..it’s something else. He kisses the top of her head and hums in her ear; hoping that his voice reaches her in her dreams.

Please reach her. 

The morning after, he brings her breakfast. She’s still asleep. He feels a bit better considering she looks this peaceful this time around. He touches her lightly on the legs. She groans softly, much to her protest she finally wakes up. Her eyes are opened and she’s staring up at him; a grin starts to form in the corner of her lips. He sits on her bed and hands her the plate. 

“This is my favorite.” Her words come out quiet. She leans forward and kisses him softly on the lips. He smiles despite himself before quickly ruffling her hair.

“Yeah, I know. I figured you needed it after your restless night.” 

“I’m really sorry about that Dan.” She apologizes, licking the bottom of her lips as her hand grabs the fork, it hovers on top of the pancake. He shakes his head and runs his finger up and down her back. 

“Hey, it’s fine. You never have to apologize to me.” Dan smirks, he bites his lower lip. “I have loved you far too long to not know when you’re sad. It’s fine.”  

Her cheeks turn pink at the mention of him loving her. He smiles sheepishly. “It’s the first time you told me out loud you loved me.” 

“Yeah, well, I do.” He mutters, he fiddles with his hand, feeling oddly embarrassed. 

“Well, you know I love you too.” She says, her eyes twinkle and the way the light breaks through her curtain captures her features perfectly. He’s breathless. He’s always in awe when it comes to Her. Her. She coughs. “In that case, let me dig in and taste your masterpiece.” She winks and shoves the food into her mouth. A grin forms and his heart. Oh, his heart, feels like it’s about to explode. That smile it’s enough to bring him to his knees. 

He tells himself he’ll make her pancakes when she wants to. 

If it makes her smile that that.

If it makes her forget the pain. 

He’ll do it in the morning. Afternoon. Midnight.

Whenever. 

Again. 

Again.

And again. For her. 

Only Her. 

D            i              s             t             a         n          c        e

Dan notices she’s not herself. He feels it when she brushes him off. When she offers him a small smile and it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. He notices how she’s become irritable. How she catches herself from saying something before she shakes her head and tell him it’s ‘nothing’. He just hoped, he just wished that she would come around. Maybe. Just maybe. Why won’t she come around? 

He moves the apple around in his hand, he’s so lost in his thoughts. He doesn’t notice that she’s in front him, waving her hand timidly. 

It takes him a good minute or two. 

Dan smiles up at her, his words caught in his throat. He presses his hand against his lips, coughing. “How have you been? Restless nights still?” 

How can he put it down into words without breaking?”

He knows she’s slipping. Out of reach. 

“I’m just tired.” She whispers softly, Really tired.” 

“I know, but, honey you need to -” 

She cuts him off, he sees the dark circles underneath her eyes. His hand twitches at his side. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”

Always.

That sentence catches him off guard, it’s that very sentence that brought them together and now he’s wondering if it’ll be the same sentence that was - is - going to tear everything apart. Tear the home he built for them. The shelter he so desperately wanted to keep in tact for them. 

Them. 

“No,” Dan finds himself saying. He reaches out a hand out to touch her arm, the spot right above her elbow. Her face falters. His heart falls. “I mean, I do, it’s just not right now. Not when you’re like this.”  

She’s so close, and if he just put his hand on her hair and just lean a bit closer….he knows he wouldn’t turn back. No turning back. He would have forgot about the problem that was slowly creeping into their life. 

She was forgetting herself. 

“When I’m like this?” She frowns, she’s trembling. “Dan, I can’t, just let things go the way they do. It haunts me. Y-you should now.” She says between clenched teeth. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Dan whispers in disbelief, lines forming across his forehead. “I get that you were close with him, I do. I really do.” He leans forward and grabs her hand, her touch cold. “But….you need to let go. Everyone else has. It’s breaking you down. You’re not yourself” 

She winces, her lips quivers slightly. She pulls her hand away, her eyes dropping to the floor. “How can you say that, Dan? Maybe! Maybe I am out of my mind? It seems very apparent that everyone thinks I am….I just didn’t think you would too Dan!” She explodes, her face red. She’s out of breath at this point, her eyes rimmed with tears. 

No.

No. 

No.

He remembers how her hands touches his, not to hold him, but to pry him away from her. His throat tightens, and he swears he isn’t crying but the drops on his cheeks says otherwise. 

The words still remain in his lips. 

No. 

She doesn’t respond to his text messages. She doesn’t answer his calls. He’s clenching his phone tightly in his hand; his knuckles turning white. He feels the tears start to form in the corner of his eyes. He decides that she’s busy. He knows that’s far from it. 

Dan knew the feelings she felt, so why did he say that?

T h a t. 

He screams out of his window as he drives, his breathing uneven. He finds himself driving to her house. His cheeks are flushed, his heart is beating way too fast for his comfort, he presses his hand against her door. His hand grips onto the doorknob. Dan is taken aback when it’s unlocked. 

He curses under his breath, scenarios running through his head. A burglary? He runs to her room, he searches for her. Eyes scanning, trying his best to find something peculiar - out of place. Nothing. He’s about to leave when he sees her bathroom door left ajar. 

He stops in place. He swears his world is stopping. He clutches his chest and pushes the door open. 

S t o p. 

He finds her lifeless. 

Everything is a blur. 

“Please don’t leave me,” Dan pleads, his grip on her tightens. “I-I’m not that strong. Please come back. Please?” He peers down at her, his voice comes out weak and stiff. 

He feels her against his chest. He’s trying his best to hide the chills that are running through his body. He wonders….does she hear him? Does she hear his cries? 

Come back. 

He presses his head against the crook of her chest and cries. He’s trying his best to hear something - anything. A heartbeat. 

He failed her. 

And all he had left was the corpse of who she was. 

He tells everyone he met an angel once, but tells them she lost her wings. He tells the people he’s mentoring that she flew too high, and that the last time he saw her was on the bathroom floor. The mirror reflective of what happened: broken. 

She took his heart with her. 

Dropped it from where she flew. 

If you love someone set them free.

So he did. 

He really did. He let her go. Understood she must’ve been tormented, but understanding didn’t change how he felt. How he still feels. He had rehearsed his goodbye over and over again. He knew what he would say to her. But no words would be enough to say what he truly felt, his tongue didn’t feel right forming the words that meant she was gone.  

It lingers. It s t I n g s. It breaks him. 

She took the road he couldn’t follow: how he would’ve followed her. Dan would’ve held her for a minute longer. He would’ve convinced her to stay. Stay here with him. 

He knew an angel once. 

He knew an angel. 

He knew.