Sebastian POV:
She stood there — effortlessly beautiful, even with tears on her face. Maybe especially then. It made my chest ache in a way I hadn't felt in a long time, like old bruises being pressed on from the inside.
She had been mine once. For the briefest flicker of time. But before all that, she was my friend — one of the only people who ever really saw me. And now she stood there, looking like a ghost I'd been trying to forget, and all I could feel was this choking mix of anger, hurt... bitterness.
And love.
God, why do I still feel love? After everything? After almost a year of silence?
Just when I finally felt like I could start stitching my life back together, she showed up and knocked it all loose again like it never stood a chance.
The jellyfish had already drifted back out to sea. Their glow fading beneath the tide, like lanterns slipping beneath the waves. Fall was creeping in — one more season to close out the year. Most people had already wandered off the dock, back to their homes, their warm lights, their quiet lives.
But we stayed. Hannah and I. Locked in the space between what we were and what we'd become.
The waves lapped against the pylons, a slow, rhythmic hush. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears, loud enough to drown everything else out.
"We'll catch up with you guys later," Abigail said quietly behind me. She didn't wait for a response — just gently pulled Sam away by the sleeve. I saw Hannah give her a soft smile, full of history and sadness. She owed Abigail something too — maybe more than she owed me.
Sam lingered, hesitant. "It's good to see you again, Hannah," he said kindly. Then he followed Abigail like he always did — loyal to a fault.
I pulled out a cigarette and lit it with shaky fingers. I wasn't even sure why. Habit. Nerves. Something to do with my hands so I wouldn't reach for her. So I wouldn't break.
I couldn't walk away. Not yet. Not when I might never get another chance to see her again.
"I heard your song," she said, her voice barely rising above the sound of the waves. Her eyes stayed on the water.
I looked at her — just the side of her face — and felt heat rise in my cheeks. Embarrassment? Shock? She was there?
"I assume you wrote it," she added, her mouth tugging into the tiniest smirk. "I don't really peg Sam for the poetic, brooding type."
I huffed, a ghost of a laugh escaping before I could stop it. "I did write the lyrics."
"They were beautiful. Really." She finally turned to look at me — fully — and I could feel the weight of her gaze. Like she was trying to memorize me or make sure I was real.
I stared at the sea. I couldn't meet her eyes. Not yet.
"Why did you come?" I asked. "After all that time, why did you show up in the city that night?"
She took a slow breath. Her lips parted, then closed again. Like she was trying to find a single thread in a tangle of a thousand. "Because..." she started. "Because I was drowning. Every sound, every time I tried to step outside, it was like a wave crashing over me. Anxiety. Guilt. Fear. Imposter syndrome. I—I wasn't okay. I haven't been okay."
She brushed her hand over her face, half-laughing bitterly. "I think... I left a piece of myself in that cavern. And when I found that flyer on my porch... I knew you didn't leave it."
I looked at her then. Just for a second. The moonlight caught the tears welling in her eyes. My stomach twisted.
"I thought... if I could see you all happy, like nothing had changed, it would help. But it didn't. It just made everything worse. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I felt like I broke something I could never fix."
"So you went all the way to the city," I said, bitterness creeping into my voice, "just to see if I'd moved on? So you could justify vanishing while I was here—missing you every goddamn day? No call. No text. Not even a note. Nothing."
Her breath caught. And then the tears spilled, silent and fast.
"There's no justifying it," she said, her voice shaking. "But I didn't know what else to do. I didn't even know if I'd be alive the next day."
That hit me like a punch to the gut.
My jaw clenched. I looked at her — really looked at her. She was pale under the moonlight, eyes tired, like she hadn't slept in weeks. She wrapped her arms around herself like she was trying to hold in whatever pieces she had left.
"I don't know what happened to me, Sebastian," she said, voice hoarse. "I have no excuse. The cavern was terrifying — sure — but it was more than that. It did something to me. Something I don't have words for. I brought every weapon I could find. Bombs. Food. Gear. But I didn't bring anything to protect my mind. And whatever I faced down there — it wasn't just monsters. It was twisted. It was psychological. It changed me."
She ran a hand through her hair, swallowing hard.
And I stood there, helpless. I wanted to wipe the tears from her cheeks. I wanted to hold her until she stopped shaking. But that would mean lowering the walls I spent a year rebuilding. Walls she helped tear down once — and then left me to sit in the wreckage.
But the thought of her not being alive — not breathing, not existing somewhere in this world — made something deep in me spiral. Even if she wasn't mine anymore, the idea of a world without her in it... I couldn't live with that.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. I didn't know what I was apologizing for. For being mad. For still loving her. For not being able to hate her even when I wanted to.
"You couldn't have known," she said, folding in on herself. "I shut you out completely."
We looked at each other. Really looked. And for a moment, the world around us faded. The wind. The sea. The rest of the town. It was just us.
"You had every reason to," I said quietly. The words were true, even if they hurt to say.
She shook her head, more tears falling. "No," she whispered. "Not every reason."
And still, she couldn't forgive herself.
And maybe... maybe I wasn't ready to either.
But I couldn't look away from her.
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