#oh also The Lights of Arcadia Bay I started that and never finished

[blackwell-academys-airdrop]

okay NOW I've got to finish reading Purity through a Prism

[theadventurousdork]

Two Sides of the Same Coin: Chloe Price

If Chloe could go back and meet herself... would she?

Chloe takes a drag from her cigarette before flicking it away. She lays on the rusted roof of an old fishing boat, the breeze carrying away her puff of smoke. The sun is setting over the junkyard. Everything is still, yet her mind is buzzing. Can she really do it? Run away. Away from the torment. Away from the emptiness. Away from Arcadia Bay. Away from it all. And with Rachel freakin' Amber.

Chloe flicks her cigarette as her arm hangs over the side of the roof. Shards of broken glass are crunched under a shifting foot a few yards away, causing the rebel to sit up in caution. She looks around the junkyard, a feeling of unease sits in her gut. The shifting footsteps move behind a run down car.

"Rachel, I swear to God if you're fucking with me..."

Chloe hops off the roof of the boat and onto the splintered deck below, the setting sun shines in her eyes. She squints over the edge and looks down to see a figure looking up at her. She feels familiar.

"Jesus christ. That's what I looked like back then?" The woman says. Her hair radiating a faded green through the sunlight.

"Who the fuck are you?" Chloe demands as the woman climbs onto the boat.

"Look at me, you little nugget," the woman says as she hops onto the deck, the wood creaking beneath her, "I'm you."

Chloe takes a step back. She looks at her future self in confusion, "Alright, that cigarette I bummed from Justin was definitely laced with something."

"Holy shit. Justin." Older Chloe says in an amused tone. She looks over the trees at the setting sun, "I wonder how he's doing nowadays. Either he finally became a skate pro or he's now the creepy dude no one knows who's still riding the same rails at Blackwell."

Young Chloe is at a loss of words. She stares at her older self not being able to comprehend what she's seeing.

"You... I... we... look pretty rad," she finally says after an awkward silence, "I just... don't understand what the fuck is happening."

Older Chloe walks past the teen and hops onto the roof of the boat, her feet dangling over the edge. She looks down and pats the empty space next to her. Young Chloe looks around the empty junkyard looking for any sign of being pranked. After realizing there's no one else around them, she takes a deep breath and climbs to the top of the boat to join her future self.

"It's all very confusing so I won't waste time explaining how I'm here," Older Chloe says as she takes out a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. She takes out a stick and puts it between her lips before extending the carton out to her younger self, "Trade you a cig for a light."

Young Chloe reaches into her ripped jean pocket and takes out a lighter. She takes a cigarette from the carton and lights both of their smokes. They both take a long drag unison.

"So... let's say I'm not tripping absolute balls right now," young Chloe says, "why are you here?"

"If YOU had the chance to visit younger you, would you?"

"I don't think I would." Young Chloe takes another drag, "It would hurt too much."

"Well... opinions change as you get older, I guess." Older Chloe looks at the junkyard around them, "Man, I miss this place. Brings back so many memories. What year is it anyway?"

Young Chloe hesitates, still not fully absorbing what's happening, "Uh, 2010."

"Fuck. That feels like ages ago."

"What year are you from?"

"Doesn't really matter." Older Chloe brushes off the question, "So what's going on in your life right now?"

"Well, my stupid mom betrayed me by letting the walking mustache move into the house." Young Chloe grumbles as she pushes the butt of her cigarette into the deteriorating metal.

Older Chloe smiles, "David and his damn mustache."

Young Chloe doesn't hear her comment, "And the ever so elusive Max Caulfield hasn't answered a single text or call in months. So she could be dead." She lifts up her legs from the edge of the roof and hugs her knees, "Not that it fucking matters anyway. I mean, I could be dead and she wouldn't even care."

Older Chloe softens her gaze as she looks to her broken, younger self.

"What else is going on?"

"Well, I finally got booted from Blackwell."

Older Chloe lets out a small laugh, "Jesus, took you long enough."

"Right? You should've seen how smug Principal Wells looked with that stick up his ass as he broke the news," Young Chloe furrows her brow, "I mean... I guess you have seen what he looked like then."

"Oh, man. Of course I remember what he looked like. So pleased with himself. He definitely celebrated our departure from Blackwell by shoving two more sticks up his ass."

Young Chloe couldn't help but laugh.

"And uh..." her laughing died down to a nervousness, "I also met Rachel Amber recently."

The burning cigarette hangs loosely between Older Chloe's fingers as she stares over the treeline. Her mind is obviously in a different place.

"Rachel Amber." she finally says after a moment, "How is she?"

The words leave her mouth with a heavy weight.

"She's... awesome." Young Chloe breathes out. Her shoulders loosen as Older Chloe's tense up, "I just... I don't know how to describe it. Ever since we went to that Firewalk concert a few days ago and we started hanging out... I don't know. She's just so fucking cool. She has this..."

"Light around her." Older Chloe says, finishing the younger's sentence, "A light that seems to never dim. No matter what kind of darkness hits."

"Yeah, exactly."

Young Chloe notices the shift in the elder's tone, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Older Chloe blinks away her tears, "Can you... can you tell me more about her?"

Her words feel slightly desperate. Like she's treading water, desperate to relive the feeling she's lost so long ago. The feeling of knowing that Rachel's okay.

"I mean, you've already lived through all of this. You must know more than I do. What do you want to know? Honestly, I should be the one asking YOU questions," Young Chloe sits up straight, eager to ask her future self a barrage of questions, "What's it even like in the future? Have the mole people taken over? Have we discovered life on other planets yet? Is weed legal in every state now? Do I ever make it out of this shithole?"

Older Chloe puts out her cigarette before looking at her wide eyed younger self, "How about you answer my question and I'll answer ONE of yours."

"But..."

"My time is limited here, you ding dong. You really wanna waste it by fighting?" Older Chloe leans back on her hands, "You know I'd win."

Young Chloe huffs at how smug she is, "Okay, fine." She takes a moment to collect her thoughts. "So you wanna hear about Rachel?"

"Yeah. What's she like right now? Where are you at when it comes to her?"

The younger lays down on the roof, her hands clasped behind her head, "She's absolutely amazing. I don't think I'll ever meet anyone else like her. There's this indescribable thing about her that makes me want to... be better." Young Chloe closes her eyes, images of Rachel flashing through her mind, "It's like ever since we started hanging out, everything's felt... not as heavy, you know? I mean, don't get me wrong. This place is still a top tier shitter, but she makes it... not as shitty."

Older Chloe doesn't say a word.

"And when I'm with her... I feel nervous. But not the 'Oh shit, I'm gonna throw up' nervous but more like the... 'Oh shit, I wanna stay in this moment forever' kind of nervous," Young Chloe feels a slight tinge of embarrassment as she opens her eyes to see the clouds moving in the sky above, "I must sound so stupid."

"You don't." Older Chloe wipes away a tear that escaped from her grasp. Younger Chloe doesn't notice.

The older's mouth hangs slightly open as she struggles to find the right words to say. After a moment, "Just... hang onto that. Hang onto that feeling. That feeling of wanting to be better. That feeling that there's a light that will never dim. It's important."

"Since when did I get so mushy?" Young Chloe sits up.

"Don't act like you haven't always been," says the Older.

"Okay, my turn."

"One question. That's all you get."

Young Chloe crosses her arms as she thinks carefully about her question. The sun has just touched the top of the treeline. A blanket of golden light lays gently across the junkyard. The familiar sound of glass crunching under a shifting foot gets lost in the sound of the trees rustling with the breeze. Young Chloe, lost in thought, doesn't seem to notice it this time.

"So," Older Chloe interrupts, "I don't got all day. It's now or never, young grasshopper."

After another moment of silence, the younger uncrosses her arms and takes a deep breath. She looks to the setting sun. Two sides of the same coin, sit side by side under its light.

"Will I ever find the happiness I lost?"

Older Chloe furrows her brow, slightly taken aback by the younger's question.

Young Chloe's heartbeat increases slightly, scared of the answer.

The older looks up at the sky before taking a deep breath, "Look, kid. You're going to lose a lot. You're going to lose so much that it feels almost impossible to make it through... but you will. You'll be okay."

Young Chloe, looks down at her feet dangling off the side of the roof. Slightly disappointed with the answer.

The sun has begun to disappear behind the treeline.

"But," Older Chloe starts up again, "about that happiness..."

She looks out to the junkyard. Hidden just out of the younger's sight, an older Max Caulfield sits behind a dilapidated car door. She's waiting patiently, as she looks up at Older Chloe. The two look at one another with a reassuring gaze. Max gently nods her head as she gives Older Chloe a kind smile.

"You'll find it again." Older Chloe finally says without breaking eye contact with Older Max, "Happiness will always be within reach even when you feel like it's gone forever."

A breeze blows through the junkyard just as the sun has finally disappeared behind the trees.

Young Chloe looks up and finds herself alone again.

[mazecraft]

Rachel in the Dark Room Ep 6

Image credit: simpletextadventure/tumblr

Warning:

Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.

Trigger Warning:

This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised.

The moment Doe put her gentle hands on Rachel’s face, her consciousness was flooded with thoughts, feelings, images, and sounds. Rachel didn’t just see. She saw and felt everything...

∞

Sera was on a nod in some shithole, Sacramento. The apartment she was staying at for a few days was rented out by a friend of her dealer. But she’d never met him. Other people had been coming and going until she wasn’t sure who actually lived there. At the moment the couch was taken by a man fucking some girl that was way too young to be there. So, Sera sat in the corner smoking a cigarette thinking about the daughter she never got to know. All that she wanted was to see her and explain. She had tried so hard. It was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life, and it was forcibly taken from her. Her eye twitched at the memory. It was too late now. She had known that when she left Arcadia Bay. Some people don’t get second chances. Now all she had was a few brief memories of the daughter she never got to know, stolen moments followed by terror where she least expected to find it. She grabbed the syringe off the carpet and found a fresh spot on her arm to inject herself. It was a mighty dose. But she could handle amounts that would kill most people. Even a year clean had not lowered her tolerance very much, as that prick that tried to OD her never got to find out. She smiled and leaned her head back as the euphoria swept her away. Her body died while she dreamed of being the kind of person that would have been there for Rachel no matter what.

∞

Rachel watched her mother’s light fade. It had been a warm light, diffused as it was. While she watched Rachel had become aware of her own light around herself. Like the aura of a bright candle in a darkened room. She held her hand up and stared at her skin in wonder. She had never seen it before, but somehow she thought she had always known it was there like a presence seen just out of the corner of her eye. Doe had just touched her forehead and began to trace a tight circle…

∞

James Amber hung his dry-cleaned suit in the walk-in closet. He changed into a polo shirt and casual slacks. He pointedly refused to look at the empty side of the closet before he turned and walked out of the room. He walked down the hallway past closed doors that he also chose to ignore and descended the stairs. His phone vibrated in his hand and he looked at the message.

I’m here.

He walked to the front door, a silhouette visible through the stained glass. He opened the door and Rose stood on the other side. She was wearing a black pantsuit with a mauve blouse and her purse hitched on her shoulder which she held with one hand tightly about the strap. James held the door open and invited her in, but she said curtly that she wasn’t staying long. He crossed his arms and waited expectantly.

“I just came by to tell you that Blackwell called and Rachel hasn’t been in school all of last week, and she hasn’t been back to her dorm,” Rose said. The corners of her mouth were drawn down and her eyes had dark circles under them. “Ray says that if she doesn’t show up by the end of next week, they are going to have to put her on Academic Dismissal pending expulsion.”

“So why are you telling me? You’re the one that she talks to now when she needs money or a parental consent form from school. I certainly haven’t seen her,” James said bitterly. “In a few months she won’t even need our consent and then I am sure you will only hear from her when she wants something.”

“And whose fault is that, James?” Rose said pointing a finger at his chest. “She may know I am not her real mother now but I still raised her. And I may have kept your secret from her, but you’re the one that did the most damage!”

“If you think I am going to stand here at my own doorstep and listen to this bullshit again…”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” Rose interrupted him. Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice became choked with emotion. “James. I think she is missing. No one has seen her this week. Chloe called me a few days ago and said she hasn’t seen her either. Something’s wrong.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” James threw his hands up. “She is taking after her mother more and more with each passing week. How long has she been talking about running away? You can blame me until you are blue in the face but we both know that cutting us out of her life was just the first step in her plan to leave forever. You think I am taking this any easier than you are? She is my daughter! And I know her well enough to know that when she decides she wants something it is only a matter of time before she gets it.”

“How dare you! Do you really think that you somehow know her better than I do? I’ve been her mother since she was three years old, James! Even Principal Wells thinks we should file a police report. But I can’t do it on my own. You have to come down to the station with me.”

“That is a waste of taxpayer dollars and ABPD resources! If the police find her at all I’ll bet you ten to one she is just holed up somewhere with the degenerates I tried to keep her from falling in with. Between this and the police report on Rachel being involved with drugs on campus, I will be lucky if I get to finish my term as DA, much less get reelected!”

“There it is!” Rose said. “You talk until you are ‘blue in the face’ about how much you love Rachel but when you have to choose between her and your fucking career you prove how much of a hypocrite you really are! If you won’t come with me than I will go by myself and you can go to hell!” She stomped off down the driveway toward her car she left parked at the curb.

“Rose!” James called after her. She paused with her keys in her shaking hand, sobbing. “Rose, wait. Just wait a minute. Let me get my coat.”

It would take a few months of no leads, but eventually, even Rose would acquiesce that Rachel must have simply run away.

∞

Rachel watched her father and stepmom flicker like a candle in a draft. She could see her parents from a distance here that she never managed in life. She could see how her father’s unwillingness to own up to when he was wrong was intertwined with his larger fear of failure, which only pushed him into greater denial. Rose had devoted her life to James and Rachel and now she had lost both and just felt numb. Rachel felt sorry for her but she could see that Rose never would have found her own strength in James’ shadow. But she couldn’t believe they would give up on her so easily! She felt a pang of sorrow that they lost hope in finding her, that they would assume she would run away without telling them. But the fact is, she guiltily remembered planning to do exactly that.  The Doe continued to trace the next layer of a spiral on her forehead…

∞

Victoria walked out of her dorm room and down the main hall. She paused on her way out of the exit to look at Rachel’s room. The door was open and her mom was inside packing up her belongings. Victoria was not surprised that Rachel was gone now. Rumors abounded about what happened to her, but Victoria was just glad she was gone. She never belonged at Blackwell anyway. Rachel had thought she was so superior and better than everyone. Sure, everyone else thought she was so cool with her California tan and smug self-righteousness. Victoria had seen what a talentless hack she really had been. If she had a talent for anything, it was convincing everyone around her that she was perfect. Pretty, and down to earth? Give me a fucking break. What was the point of being elite if you were going to condescend yourself to the losers just waiting to wash out at the bottom? Fitting that she washed out before anyone, just like her BFF Chloe. The fact that she chose to hang out with losers like that just goes to show she didn’t have what it took to be in the Vortex Club. She came to the parties all the time and got entrance as if she were a member and no one except Victoria ever questioned it. Finally, Victoria wouldn’t have to constantly try to live up to the image of someone that should have been pandering to her instead. Well, that’s all over now. Taylor was slated to get Rachel’s room once it was cleared out. Things were finally starting to go the way they always should have been.

∞

Rachel shook her head interrupting the sequence. Victoria was so small. Her light was just an ember that only seemed to flare up when someone gave her attention. She didn’t seem to have any real praise for herself, requiring it from others to sustain her. Even when Victoria thought of herself, there was a dimming effect on her own light. It was sad, really. Rachel had always assumed that Victoria’s bitchiness was a front to cover her own sense of low worth, but Rachel had never known how deep that wound was in her. The fact is that no matter how much Rachel had tried to be her friend, even after Victoria tried to fuck her over time and time again, it had only made Victoria hate her more. The Doe continued the spiral, as if in slow motion…

∞

“Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded-with what caution-with what foresight-with what dissimulation I went to work!’” Mrs Hoida continued reading. “I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed…” Mrs. Hoida stopped reading and looked over at Nathan. “Nathan! What in the world are you doing?” Nathan didn’t realize he was laughing until Hoida said his name. Tears were running down his face and when he saw Hoida’s look of confusion he just laughed even harder. How could she know? How could she know?! Did someone tell her? What was she going to do about it? What could she possibly do to him?

All around the class there was a murmur of voices. The sheeple were talking shit. They didn’t get it. Mrs. Hoida tried to quiet the class. She was saying something to Nathan in an urgent voice. There is only one possible way she could know. What did teachers really talk about in the lounge anyway? Motherfuckers wouldn’t even have a job if it weren’t for his family. They were probably all conspiring behind his back. They wanted to steal his money and ruin his family. This whole fucking town hates the Prescotts. They are jealous. None of them knew that they were just playthings. Their entire lives were meaningless. The Prescotts owned them.  Hoida reached for him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t fucking touch me, bitch!” Nathan went straight from laughter into yelling without so much as a pause. “The only way you could know is if Mark told you! You can’t fucking touch me or my family, you old whore. Keep fucking with me and see how fast you end up on the streets I’ll burn your fucking house down with you in it! You think you know the truth but no one does.” Mrs. Hoida was standing with her back against the wall and her hands up in front of her face. Her eyes were filled with terror and she flinched when he backed away from her which made him laugh again. The whole class was out of their seats and staring at him with wide eyes. It was fucking hilarious. He wished he had his camera so he could take a picture of them all standing there looking like fish with their gaping mouths. For some reason his desk was toppled over on its side and his notebook was on the ground. His papers were sprawled out in a fan around it. The pattern the pages made against the floor was mesmerizing. Something in the way they fell was soothing to him.

Madsen, the idiot security guard came into the room and started barking at him to come with him to the Principal’s office. Nathan ran his hands through his hair and straightened his jacket. He thought about picking up his papers but he couldn’t remember if there was anything worth keeping from them so just left them where they were. “What the fuck ever. This class is boring anyway. Lead the way you fucking tool.” Madsen wasn’t the police no matter how hard he wanted to be. If anyone knew what happened he would be leaving this room in handcuffs, not being escorted by the dumbest rent-a-cop in all of Oregon state. Not that his father would allow the pigs to book him. Nathan smiled confidently as he walked down the corridor with Madsen as if the security guard were his personal bodyguard. He knew he couldn’t get into any real trouble anyway, no matter what anybody knows. At first, he had been terrified that he might get caught. But Mark hasn’t been caught yet. All he has to do is play it cool. He was already thinking about the next Vortex Club party and daydreaming about who he could take to the Dark Room before they even reached the Principal’s office. It was a short meeting, and all Wells did was send him back to his dorm for the rest of the day. Which worked out just fine. He had plans to make.

∞

Rachel stared at Nathan utterly expressionless. His light was sickly green with splotchy purple and yellow bruises that morphed and mutated all around him. She could see he was sick. Not just in the way people would say that back in the world. The worst parts had pulpy fibers that were turning black even as she looked at them. His disease was destroying him. Eating away whatever goodness there was in him. She didn’t feel pity, though part of her thought she should. But she was curious what, if anything, could possibly heal him. Doe continued the spiral on her forehead, but Rachel reached up and grabbed her wrist. She could see the brilliant bluish white light surrounding Doe’s body and it was full of the same fibers of light she had seen around Nathan but instead of weak and sickly they were strong and vibrant, seemingly indestructible. Doe raised an eyebrow and smiled at her. ‘Doe eyes’ indeed. Jeez, she was pretty, Rachel thought. Doe continued the spiral pulling Rachel into another reverie.

∞

Mark Jefferson watched his students scurrying out of the classroom with a mix of fascination, and longing. As much as he admired their bright-eyed youth and naivete, he was also amazed at how fucking stupid they were. But he missed that sense of optimism that even the most cynical of his students carried around with them. That fantasy of a better future, that no matter how bad things were in the moment, it would be ok later. Through most of the summer, he had despaired at the loss of Rachel. She was unlike any other model he had ever worked with. She had optimism and hope on the one hand, but also an acute awareness of harsh realities on the other. It had been an…enticing combination.

And her ability to mimic innocence. Not the dirty school-girl with the smoldering eyes kind of innocence. That crap wasn’t art, it was just porn for amateurs. No, Rachel could actually go from sexy sophisticated and wise, to naïve, hopeful, and innocent in a moments notice. The most frustrating thing about her was her insistence to always look at the camera. He hated it. Every time, he felt like she was looking through him and it was aggravating. It took a great deal of restraint to not just dose her after their first session and be done with it. But the visual possibilities with her had been too good to waste. She had such enthusiasm, so many wistful fantasies about what her life would become. Her joie de vivre was intoxicating, and not just to him but to others as well. He had seen how everyone gravitated towards her and knew that he had to make her his. In the end, it had actually been too easy. She had already been flirting with him but he knew if he didn’t slip at least a little G into her drink he would never be able to get it up. Just knowing it was there helped.

She probably thought that sleeping with him had been her idea. Jesus, seducing her had been like making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and not half as satisfying when it came down to it. Why were women so unattractive when they were throwing themselves into your lap? Taking them by sheer force had been fun back in the early days. But taking them when they were unaware, only slightly conscious, their faces passive and beautiful. That was pure ecstasy.

The only thing that really turned him on more was the successful performance of Mark Jefferson, world renowned photographer turned philanthropic teacher. Everyone was convinced that he actually gave up his rock and roll style career in order to fulfill some altruistic need to “give back” to the community. He knew what he was. He liked the idea of himself as a predator, and these halls were his hunting ground. Every day he gained a little more trust from his students, the respect of his peers, and the admiration of the community. And every day he reveled in the fact that he could walk among them unseen, beloved, a poison in their air that they would never see until they were already choking on it…

∞

Rachel scrambled back away from Doe’s outstretched hand. It wasn’t the things that Jefferson was thinking that revulsed her. She had already learned the hard way who he really was. In a way, she had seen it early on, but had been intrigued by his experience in fashion photography, and thought his façade was just layers of complexity. No, there was nothing complex about him. He was just a sociopath that got off on hurting people and calling it art. But what really got to her was the absence of light. There was no light around Jefferson at all. Every living thing she had encountered thus far had some sort of vitality or light to it. But his presence was a void of light. A darkness that sucked in the light around him. He wasn’t just dead inside, he was a destroyer of life. Whatever he was, it wasn’t human, and he was getting worse.

(to be continued) …

Mazecrafted © 2018

[amoristt]

Not My Boyfriend | Nathan x Reader

disclaimer: i know nathan is not a good person. i am not putting a blanket over his actions in this fic. i, the writer, understand he’s not an innocent character and has made many terrible choices. im just answering people’s requests, please dont put me under the fire for it.

thank you.

Anonymous asked:  CAN YOU DO NATHAN X READER (FLUFF 15) PLEASE! ;U; AND MAYBE A FLUFFY KISS TOO!

sure thing! this was a lot of fun to write :3 hope you guys like it! the prompt is, “He’s not my boyfriend!”

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Not My Boyfriend

A bird landing inches away from you was a softly lived moment. Fingers that were previously punching numbers into a calculator froze. You barely moved to look up from your homework, all those menacing papers sprawled haphazardly over the wooden picnic table, as to not scare it. It was small, barely larger than the palm of your hand. It’s eyes were beady and unexpecting, it’s wings tucked safely against its fat little body. It hopped from one spot to another, occasionally leaning forward to tilt it’s little head at your calculous. If not for the lack of color in it’s eyes you’d have thought it was confused by your scribbled text.

“Me too,” You breathed, and just that little sound scared it away. You watched it go all the way until it disappeared behind a hefty building, red with bricks and green with vines creeping up the edges. A disinterested sigh passed your lips, your mind bored and exhausted from grinding it’s gears all day. It was noon and you were halfway done with your work, but there was still a small pile of papers that demanded your attention. Even the sight of them made your headache worsen, the pulsing racing in between your temples.

Spring break had come to a sorrowful end. Goodbye sleeping in, goodbye staying out late, and hello school life once again. The eraser of your pencil tapped against your lips idly, fingers itching to do anything than continue writing. You missed summer vacation so much it felt like it was a dull ache in the pit of your chest.

Surviving winter was hard for a summer lover like you, and you spent most of your christmas and winter breaks holed up in your dorm once you came back from visiting family. You weren’t alone there of course, either with your few select friends or your boyfriend, but you’d rather have died than went outside in the snow and freezing cold.

You smiled at the memory, though. You hated winter but staying inside wasn’t bad. Watching movies wrapped in blankets, the taste of hot cocoa on your tongue, the feeling of an arm slung over your shoulder. Half of the time you were never even focused on the movie playing, too caught up in the lips pressed against your own, the hand tugging through your hair, the taste of him.

Nathan Prescott.

Kissing Nathan outside of a party was like spotting the wildest rose, beautiful but distant. Never outside the walls of your dorm did he trace the shape of your jaw, kiss at your collar bones, or let his palms glide down the valley of your back. With soft background noise and a blanket he let himself feel you wherever he pleased, and you welcomed it. He himself wasn’t too much of a fan of the feeling, sometimes recoiling when you touched at him, but he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your skin. Even subconsciously his hands would drift as close at they could, briskly grazing you.

Outside, however, was another story. In solitude he was never the iron-clad, hard headed asshole his reputation so easily displayed him out to be. He was sarcastic, sharp, and he was far from sickly sweet, but he wasn’t Arcadia Bays’ infamous Nathan Prescott. He was your Nathan. He was your Nathan that kissed you on your shoulders but also laughed when you fell off the bed. He was your Nathan that took photos of you, made you look like an angel, but he also was your Nathan that would sometimes draw devil horns on them.

In the winter he was your Nathan that snuck into your room and brought you cocoa, and in the summer he would ‘accidentally’ lose the key he stole from you in order to lock you outside for the day.

He had many sides to him, sides that no one would get to know, but he wasn’t evil. Devious, almost annoyingly so at times, but never… Malicious. Of course he could be, and you knew that. He could be the most volatile person to walk the halls of Blackwell should he want to, but when it came to you he would sneak along the hallways, slip into your room quiet as a mouse uninvited just because he ‘felt like it’. Truth be told, he missed you.

In your back pocket your phone vibrated, making you realize you’d drifted deeper into thought than you had intended. Without even looking at the notification you were already smiling- you knew who it was. Sure enough when you retrieved the device his name lit up clear as day, ‘yorkie’. It was a teasing remark you’d called him once while comparing him to dogs, and you settled on yorkie because they’re small but act like demons. He wasn’t too thrilled over the choice but you thought it was funniest shit, so you ran with it. 

When you learned your relationship with Nathan would have to be hidden from the school, you chose the first nickname that came into your head for his contact.

‘where r u?’

Before typing out your reply you gave a quick look-see around, making sure it was just you at the lonesome, miniature park. When it was first built it was overflowing with kids, but soon parents learned that 2 swings, a merry go round, and a few picnic tables wouldn’t suffice for entertainment. Without the shrill cries of toddlers and kids, you’d found it made an excellent study spot.

‘park. catching up on some hw rn.’ You leaned forward, elbows resting on the scratchy wooden surface. ‘why :0? anything up?

He replied almost instantly, a simple ‘nah. dont go anywhere, im gunna b there soon.’

‘wouldnt dream of it. see u soon’

You set the phone to the side and sighed, looking down at both your finished and unfinished work. It taunted you, and you swore it sounded like they were laughing when a warm breeze sent a few pieces fluttering. Drained, you started to gather all of the worksheets up, stacking them atop each other and then scooting them down the table. It almost physically hurt when you grabbed an unfinished sheet, the words ‘chemistry’ causing you to inwardly groan in defeat. With all this work you cursed your past self for not doing it bit by bit over break in order to avoid a situation like this.

By the time Nathan arrived, hands shoved in his pockets and his head ducked down like a stalking cat, you had gone through 2 more sheets and your headache had doubled. You waved a worn-out hello when he came into your view, and he took a look at your current state of being and shook his head.

“Seriously?” He scoffed, hopping onto the seat beside you. “You’re actually doing this all?”

“Course I am,” You added one more sheet to the finished pile. “I do want to get good grades, you know.”

Nathan leaned on one arm, his angular chin propped by an even more angular hand. “Just cheat like everyone else.”

“The last time you suggest that I failed entirely.” Although you tried to sound scolding, all that came out was an airy chuckle.  He rolled his eyes and his hand fell, his other coming up to join beside it. You grinned at him. “Is this too boring for you or something?”

“Actually?” he jumped up and sat on top of the picnic table rather than on the seat. With a look of almost disgust he read over the last sheet you’d finished. “Yeah, this is boring as fuck. What’s with the stack?”

A moan of anguish found it’s way out. “I was stupid and decided to procrastinate until last minute.”

“Why ever would you do that?” Nathan hummed, not looking up from your worksheet even when a knowing, sly grin took over his lips. You fought the urge to smack his knee.

“Not funny,” your pencil drew light circles at the corner of your paper. “This is seriously stressing me out.”

“So take a break then,” Nathan hopped down beside you again, his nimble fingers snatching the pencil right from your fingers. You wanted to argue, reach out and grab it, but you lacked the energy and motivation. Bad move, you learned, because the minute he stole your pencil he started writing crude phrases on the wood.

As he wrote you laughed, clicking your tongue and shaking your head. “You know kids see this shit, right?”

“Yeah, so?” He draw two circles beside each other and you rolled your eyes before he finished the piece. “Not like they know what it means anyways.”

“Yes but the parents do.”

“Oh no,” He leaned back again to admire his ugly work. “I’m so scared of little Tommy and his deadbeat, soccer mom.”

“Give me that back.” You swiped your pencil back now that he was finished, but the thought of returning to your work was a heavy one. Once again you cursed at your past self for thinking this would somehow all work out in the end. In the corner of your eyes you saw Nathan start to fidget with something he pulled from his pocket, and at that point you were desperate for something to gain your attention. “What’s that?”

He looked up at you briefly before turning back down to his item, then he set it out in front of him. It was a small camera it seemed, and cheaper than the rest of his devices, and it looked to be an instant camera along with that.

“I thought you were more into computer developed shots?”

Nathan used his sleeve to wipe at the camera's lens, then he shrugged. “I am, and believe me I wouldn’t be using his hipster piece of shit if I didn’t have to.”

Leaning forward you watched him toy around with the buttons. “So what’s it for then?”

“Photos, duh.” You shoved playfully at his shoulder and he smirked teasingly. “It’s something about the lighting I guess. Got a tip from a friend that instant cameras take the best candid shots.”

“Better candids, huh?” Slowly you reached out and grabbed at the camera, and Nathan surprisingly let you. Probably because he had little regard for the items’ safety- he could just get a new one. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” In an instant you’d reached the camera out, facing it towards you and Nathan, and he rolled his eyes but slung his arm around you none the less. However, unfortunately, he put up his middle finger as well.

Still, you took the shot, and for a moment a light blinded you. Then the picture developed and slid out from the bottom, your fingers reaching out to snatch the pic and then shake it quickly. It was warm like freshly printed paper, and if not for the fact that Nathan’s middle finger was up it would have been a pretty light hearted and sweet image, something you’d hang up in your room.

“Don’t show that to anyone,” Nathan said, and it was disheartening to know why. He tried to sound teasing, the words playing a jesting ‘i look bad there’, but it was deeper.

Your relationship was a secret to the outside community, a spectacle only you and him could observe. Sometimes it was okay, as it made you feel special. Only you knew the things you and him did behind closed doors, only you knew the feeling of the pads of his fingers trailing over your goosebump riddled skin. Only you knew the softness of his lips, the sharp angles of his jaw, and how dewy-eyed he got when you woke up beside each other. Other times a shallow and cold feeling tugged at your chest. Albeit never questioning why he chose to keep everyone in the dark, you knew he had his reasons and you weren’t going to pressure him on them. But… You still wondered. A million ideas would race through your head at night. Why, why why. However your qualms were quick to be distinguished when he’d show up at your dorm and find his way under your blankets, his body lean but radiating like a furnace.

The picture was still warm against your fingertips, and you smiled down at it. “Why not?” You playfully whined, both seriously and teasingly. “You look so cute here.”

Nathan rolled his eyes and tried to grab at the picture but you were too quick, leaning away from him and taking the photo of out his reach. He tried again, this time leaning over you in the process, but you got up and rose your eyebrows.

“Don’t make me chase you,” He narrowed his eyes, but they were anything but angry. He was enjoying himself. “We both know how that always ends up.” Waving the photo tauntingly in the air, he started to get up from his seat. The moment his feet touched ground you jumped, running left then right while knowing he was hot on your trail.

It was always so jarring how much faster he was than you. In seconds he was grasping at your shoulders, fingers catching the fabric, and you were turned to face him. Thanks to your speed you almost fell backwards but you caught his shoulders, managing to regain your footing. He was grabbing at the image and you kept it held close, a laugh rising at the feeling of his fingers poking at your skin. His footing faltered and you took it as a moment to make your gleeful escape, but he caught your wrist and stopped you from going too far. Although fast, he lacked endurance, and he was out of breath as he  wrapped his arms around your waist to stop you from going anywhere. You swatted at his chest and squirmed, but found yourself trapped.

“Photo, now.” He demanded with a grin in knowing he had you caught.

You opened your mouth to tell him never, but another voice halted you.

“What’s all this?”

In that moment both yours and Nathan’s blood ran cold. He was so quick to let you go, the force making you stumble before you stilled and stared at the two figures approaching with wide, fearful eyes. Nathan seemed more irritated than afraid like you, and his hands balled into fists. God damn it, his eyes said, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of him being upset over the fact that he’d been caught messing around with you.

Two teens, Blackwell students by the looks of their jackets, were close now. Your stomach churned when you recognized the speakers short brown hair, his red jacket that mimicked Nathan’s. Logan Robertson. Beside him you recognized Zachary, a slightly nicer but still equally malicious football player.

You and Nathan traded looks in knowing full well where this was going.

“You and ___?” Logan started in a taunting tone. “Never thought you for the type to go for the underdogs.”

Zachary leaned his head back to laugh before he spoke up too. “Gotta say it’s smart, Nate. The nobodies are so easy to pick up.”

The words hurt but you didn’t dare argue back. Your relationship was a secret, and it would be the end of the world if those two morons found out about it. With sand in your throat you swallowed down your pride, remembering the fact that yours and Nathan’s relationship was at stakes. He meant too much for you to lose just because two dickheads wanted to cause drama.

“That’s not-- We aren’t-” You stumbled over your words as you frantically tried to find out a way to explain what they had seen. Carefully you hid the photo behind your back. “We were just-”

Logan snickered. “We were- We were just- we- we- we- Spit it out, sister!”

“Studying!” Your tongue felt heavy. Nathan rose a brow and you squeezed your eyes shut at the vague and thin lie.

Zachary crossed his arms, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “Bullshit. We all know Nathan Prescott doesn’t study.”

“Yes the fuck I do!” He chided, seeming personally offended by the jocks statement. “I study all the damn time, which is what you two lemmings should be doing too.”

“Since when do you care about class? You hardly even bother to show up half the time.” Logan said, and you swallowed thickly at the scene starting to play out in front of you. Logan’s eyes found you and he scoffed. “Don’t tell me ___’s the type of person to force her boyfriend into being good.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. They knew. They knew, they knew, they knew, and yours and Nathan’s relationship was as good as over. Your chest felt like it was concaving and you acted out as quickly as your racing brain could allow you too.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You blurted. It was loud and forced, but it left all three of them stunned for a moment.

Among of all them, Nathan seemed the most taken aback.

You didn’t stay long enough for them to poke more at your words, pivoting off your heel and barreling straight for your papers. From the wind a few had blown from your pile and you carelessly grabbed at them, shoving and crumpling them into your bag. Nathan was saying something from where he stood but you weren't listening, already slinging your bag over your shoulder and taking your leave.

Suddenly the photo you still held in your hand felt like it weighed a ton.

It was a few hours until you managed the courage to text him again.

Though now riddled with a bad memory you were right back at the park, this time without the anchor of your school bag or the headache from equations. No, all you had with you was your phone, your wallet, and that damn photo. You’d forgotten that on the way home you shoved it into your pocket and upon returning to the park to relax, it crossed your mind again. Although planning to spend some time alone, the sight of you and him happy together made you do something you’d been thinking about for months.

Step one of your emotionally drenched plan was to invite him to the park, and it was an invite he took without argument. Something felt off in his text, it felt… careful, like he knew exactly what was coming. A storm brewed in your gut.

The wait for him to show up was a relentless one, and the whole time you considered the idea of backing out, but it seemed fate would have it otherwise because when you picked your phone up to text him ‘nevermind’ you saw the photo again. It sat on your lap like a brand, and you set your phone back down beside you and groaned. This could be the end or a very fruitful beginning.

Step two was put into motion when he arrived, spotting you on the merry go round where he took a seat beside you. He was smooth in his motions, much more thoughtful than he was earlier. The way he glanced side to side before approaching you did not go unnoticed.

With the hours that passed the sun fell, and now that it was early in the evening everything was saturated in a brilliant gold thanks to the setting sun. If not for the ton of bricks that rolled around in your stomach you would have appreciated the scenery a bit more, but the nausea welling in your throat couldn’t be overridden by pretty clouds or the golden hour.

“What’s up?” He asked, breaking the silence you formed unawarely. He was anxious with his words, like he was expecting some life changing news on your behalf.

You shrugged casually despite the raging fire in your head. The last thing you wanted to do was rile him up. “I just,” The sand formed in your throat again and you almost gagged on it. “Wanted to talk about something.”

“Earlier?”

Lips pressed into a tight line, you nodded glumly. He made a noise of distress and leaned back, his gaze unset and unfocused.

“Look, they’re assholes, but I don’t think they’re gonna go telling everyone shit about me and you.”

“That’s not it,” You shook your head and pressed your hand against your throbbing temple. “The thing is, I don’t care if people know.”

“You seem pretty fucked up about it, though.”

“That’s because I know you wanted to keep it some big secret.”

Nathan took note of your words, eyeing you with knit brows. “I don’t want us to be some ‘big secret’, that’s just kind of how it has to go.”

“Why?” Your hands fell against your lap and you frowned up at him, but he wasn’t looking. “Why do we have to keep everything to ourselves?”

“Why does it matter so much?” He finally looked down at you, his expression tight, his jaw leveled. “What we’re doing is working out just fucking fine, isn’t it?”

You sighed. “Yeah, yeah it’s working.”

“Then what's the big issue?”

“It just-” you ran a hand through your hair roughly, trying to find the right words. “I don’t see why we can’t tell anyone! I mean yeah it’s fine, we’re working, but just- tell me why it’s so important that no one knows.”

“Because you'd fucking hate it if everyone knew!” His voice held so many emotions, but the two most prominent was the obvious anger and the less obvious worry. “Believe me, ___ if people found out you were involved with me you’d run for the fucking hills.”

You blinked at him, lips parted. “Why would I leave you?”

“Are you serious?” He looked down at his lap. “God, you’d get attacked. Maybe not physically but fuck, you’d get ripped into. Do you want to end up like me?”

Your gaze lowered to your legs, the photograph on your lap. “You seem to handle it just fine.”

“If you call drinking and starting fights ‘just fine’ then hell yeah I’m doing great.” He picked at his pants absently. “Never better.”

“Nathan,” You looked up at him. “I don’t care what people say about me. The years almost over, highschool drama is highschool drama. It doesn’t matter in the real world.”

Nathan groaned, rubbing his cheeks with his hands in stress. “It goes way further than that.”

“So what then?” That heat rose to your cheeks but it wasn’t accompanied by the fluttering of your heart. No, it was anger, a sinking and hot stone that ground against your bones. “We just date in the shadows where everythings nice and fucking cozy?”

“What’s wrong with that!”

“Everything!” Now it was your turn to rub at your face, irritated and huffy. “I don’t want to have to constantly feel like I’m being watched when I’m with you! I don’t want to have to worry about seen all the time, and I sure as hell don’t want to keep feeling like you’re ashamed to be with me!” You were talking so quickly, so fervently, you forgot to think before you spoke. You blurted out a thought that had eating away at you, and he gaped at you for it.

“You think I’m ashamed of you?” He asked, voice low and hissing. “That’s what you think this is about?”

You swallowed thickly and tried to eat the lump forming in your throat. “Sometimes.”

Nathan’s features softened, and he leaned back to look up at the sky. “___, that’s not… Shit, that’s not what this is about.” He sighed. “I just don’t want you to get all hurt because some hipster bitch won’t leave you alone. The thought of you going off and leaving me because of drama sucks.”

“I wouldn’t leave you over that.” You croaked. “I wouldn’t.”

“It’s easy to say that now.” He said, mostly to himself, but you responded anyways.

“I wouldn’t leave you over pointless shit, Nathan.” Using your sleeves you wiped roughly at your eyes. “I just want to- I just wanna be able to do shit with you outside my room is all.”

“What can we do outside your room that we can’t inside?”

You shrugged. “It’s different outside.” Through the ever growing blurriness of your vision, you looked up at him.

Nathan’s eyes seemed farther away, facing into the trees that surrounded the dingy little park. His silence was deafening and fear crept under your skin, made your face heat up in anxiety. You felt like you’d screwed up pretty badly, like you’d ruined something. The lack of an answer, even if it was just an irritated sigh, made you antsy. When your lips parted to speak up he beat you to it.

“If you can handle it,” He started, closing his eyes, giving in. “Then sure, whatever.”

You blinked at him slowly, processing. The thought of being open with him made your chest feel like it was filled with cotton. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. If you really don’t care then…” His eyes opened, and they were almost golden with the setting sun's reflection. “Then I don’t either.”

A smarter part of you knew that you shouldn’t be as starstruck as you were. Being with Nathan had a price, and it was a damaging one. It was easy to claim that you didn’t mind some harassment here and there since you were alone, safe with him, but what would happen when you were alone? You weren’t the strongest, you weren’t the fastest. You didn’t want to use Nathan’s name as a shield, either. If some asshole decided to make your day hell then you were stuck.

But, a dumber, romantic part of you, didn’t care. So much of you wanted to touch him, fingers longing to lock and intertwine with his own. Nathan was bony and uncomfortable yet your heart stuttered at hugging him, leaning against him, lying beside him. He was so closed off and guarded that when he finally did open up bits of himself you greedily couldn’t get enough.

“Good,” you breathed. Words tumbled against the tip of your tongue but they couldn’t take shape, your lips moving to try and force another sentence out. That same dry and full feeling returned and it was a miracle you could even speak at all when you asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Nathan was caught off guard. You could see it in his eyes, the way they zeroed in on you before shifting back to nothing in particular. Beneath you the merrygoround creaked as it barely moved. When he looked at you, uncertain, you swallowed thickly and readied yourself to apologize. However, you didn’t need to. He nodded once and ducked beneath the railing, and you met him halfway with your heart thudding in your chest.

It was a quick kiss, chaste and rather plain, but it was more than enough. He molded against you perfectly in those few seconds, his eyes closed and shoulders relaxed. Before it ended your fingers twitched to reach out and grab some part of him, hold him close, but he broke away before you managed to. Albeit having kissed before, this one felt different. You and Nathan had been lip locked for hours on end it seemed sometimes, wrapped around one another to the point where you had no idea where you started and he ended. However this wasn’t like those times. This kiss was shy and sensitive, and when you finally opened your eyes he wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“How was that?” He asked suddenly, his sentence rushed and wavery. You smiled and reached out to gently take the fabric of his jacket in your hand.

“Again.”

Once more Nathan looked down at you but his previous expression was gone, his qualms away with it. Oddly affectionate, warm even, a sight that you’d come to know but didn’t get to see quite often. He ducked under the bar again and just like before you met him halfway, your lips meeting more intense than they had before. This kiss you recognized. It was the type of kiss you felt when he was in a calmer state of mind, usually met when he’d just woken up from a long nap, or when he decided to get loving during a night in your dorm.

It was tender, and softer than anything you’d even known. He didn’t pull away moments later this time- if anything he deepened the kiss with a tilt of his head in the process. You fisted his jacket and tried to scoot closer to him, but found you were separated from the railing placed in between your bodies.

When you and him broke apart the last thing on your mind was the fact that you were still out in the open, able to be seen by whomever happened to be around. Instead you were focused on the light dusting of pink on his cheeks, and the way that his eyes darted from your own to something else in timidity. You realized that as much as this was new to you, it was even more new to him. He’d probably never had a public relationship before, not one that worked out anyways.

You grinned, a giggling laugh slipping past your lips. He scoffed at your bubbliness and rolled his eyes, shifting back onto his side of the railing and shaking his head. Still you saw beyond the action, taking mental note of the way his lips seemed to make an effort as to not curl up into a smile.  

Shards of the sun leaked through the trees, now fat with leaves as they should be, and they painted the side of his face. The merry go round creaked again as it slowly spun, your shoes lightly digging into the wood chips on the ground. Nathans hand rested close to your own, and it felt like he was wordlessly inviting you. Tentatively, as if reaching out to pet an animal, you brushed your fingers along his scarred knuckles and felt them twitch. He didn’t move his hand away like he used to when you’d accidentally brush yours against his own. Those moments stung, and now this would be the bandage.

The ride stopped drifting in circles, you watched the treelines beside Nathan, and you held his hand.

[itsaforestthing]

A Life After The Storm

Life is Strange; One Shot: 

It’s been roughly a year since Max chosen to travel back in time, one last time and to not interfere in Chloe's confrontation with Nathan. She since then tried to live with her decision, but really struggles. This is a one shot where she writes a letter to Chloe, feeling guilty as she started to move on with her life lately.

Notes: 

- I wrote the letter in one going and didn’t reread it too much because I in this Max written it down really fastly and didn’t think about her words too much. She just let them out. 

- Storm here means more the inner conflict inside of Max then the actual storm because that never happened after Max didn’t save Chloe. 

warnings: same as in the game, also: spoiler for one ending of the story, and: guilt is a big topic

Dear Chloe,

I don’t really believe in heaven, or any other concept of life after death, and more importantly I don’t know if you would remember my return to Arcadia Bay, even if there is such thing as life after death, but I need to tell you that I am unsure if I did the right thing. I regret it every day. I miss you more than anything in this world, but I know I don’t have to apologize to you. You were the one who understood — better than I did — that this is what had to happen.

But if this is presumably the ‚right thing to do‘ why does it feel so bad? I miss you every day, since that day. Some days I was just glad that I got the chance to get to know the person you’ve become, before losing you. Some days I wished I hadn’t, thinking I couldn’t possibly miss you as much as I do if we hadn’t spent this week together. But I know now that I would never want to trade the good memories just to get rid of the bad feelings. I got the chance to see you again, got remembered of our friendship again, got to fall in love with you, in return I had to make a choice that will haunt me my whole life. And I will never be sure if I made the right choice. I will have to live with that. One thing I can tell you: knowing I saved the others doesn’t help at all. They are not you. No one ever will be you. No one will ever be able to replace you. But the reason I am writing you today is: I am guilty of one more thing. I fell in love again. I feel like it is to soon, it’s only been a year since we buried I lost you. And even though I know she can’t, it feels like I’m replacing you. Look at me, you would probably laugh at me, after one silly kiss. You would tell me I read way to much into that again. A Typical Max move. But the truth is: she is the first person I fell in love with after we met again. Which makes her the second person overall I ever fell in love with, you being the first. I know I’m asking for too much, but do you think you would approve of her? I feel so guilty every time I am with her. And I know it is horrible that she is the only reason I am writing you, but oh Chloe, I think I need to let you go. I don’t mean that I want to forget you, just the idea of being able to get you back somehow, the idea of us two together, the idea of what would have been if I would have chosen you. Do you believe me when I say that she is lovely? That she makes me feel calm again for the first time in what feels like forever? This is the other reason I feel so guilty: she is the only person who can make me forget about what happened for a short time, which eventually means that she makes me forget about you. Not for long, of course not. I will never forget about us. I don’t know what I am hoping to archive with writing you, you who I don’t even believe still has a conciseness. Maybe I was hoping the guilt would vanish, maybe I just needed to tell someone about it. This might be the first time I ever really understand how lonely you must’ve felt after I left and your father died. Anybody, I would tell about this, us, that week, would think I must be mad. There is that on the one hand, on the other there are my parents. I avoided telling them about, well … me and girls. You remember my parents, right? You understand, that I haven’t told them? I am already comparing too much, but I know it would have been a bit different if it were us, because I know I can to anything and everything when I have you as my backup. Oh Chloe, I miss you so much and I really hope you can forgive me, but she makes me really happy. And happy is the one thing I actually thought I would never be again. Do you believe that there is just one person for you? I hope not because Rachel would be your one person, wouldn’t she? I actually start to hope there is a life after death thing somehow. I know you wouldn’t be alone. I’ve started rambling, haven’t I? I just don't want to stop writing you. This at least feels a bit like I could still talk to you.

I’ll miss you forever, but I hope it will hurt less after a while.

I love you,

Max

Max puts the pen down and looks at the barely readable letter. Her handwriting is scrawly and the ink is smudged from tears and writing too fast. Her head falls back and leans against the wall. She is sitting on her bed, a sheet of paper, almost completely covered with words lays on her closed notebook, balanced on her crossed legs. Her hands are shaking and tears keep streaming down. It takes her a while to calm down. She started writing when it was still pitch black outside and she finished quite quickly. But to stop crying takes her a lot longer. The first ray of sun streams through her window, into her face, when she finally calms down. Her hands and knees are still a bit shaky when she gets up from her bed and starts walking toward the big mirror on her wall. She stops, stares at her reflexion for a bit, takes a deep breath and turns around to her bad again. With one smooth movement, she grabs her jacket, her keys, a lighter and the letter. Already opening the door, she starts folding the letter and puts it into the inside pocket of her jacket. Never would Max have thought that she would return to this place. She never wanted to. But here she is, standing at the junkyard again. Without thinking about this place too much, she goes up to one of the empty metal casks. She unfolds the letter again and looks at it for one last time. „Goodbye Chloe, I still really miss you, you know?“ she mumbles, gets the lighter out if her pocket, lights it and sets the paper on fire. The flames start taking her words from her. Max tries to hold on to the piece of paper as long as she can, but eventually, she has to let it fall down into the empty cask. As soon as she does she turns around and walks aways without looking back, tears in her eyes again.

The next night, she has the weirdest dream. She finds herself lying in the grass of an unnaturally beautiful meadow and as she looks to her left, she can see Chloe. Her heart stops, skips a beat. Breathing seems impossible, but somehow she manages to say Chloe’s name. The blue-haired girl, who was looking at the sky above, how looks at Max, but her eyes look sad. „Max,“ Chloe starts talking, her voice sad but unusual soft, „You don’t really think I would be angry at you for being happy would you?“ Max reaches out for Chloe’s face, but she can’t touch her. It’s like they are in two different worlds, even though they are lying right next to each other. Max tries to talk again but fails. Instead, Chloe starts talking again: „Tell my mother. Not everything, maybe just that you were in love with me. Tell her. Tell her that you fell in love again and that you feel guilty for being happy. I know she does too. Maybe you can help her!“ And with these words, Chloe vanishes and so does the meadow and everything around Max turns black. The next morning, she doesn’t remember the dream but wakes up with the desire to talk to Chloe’s mom.