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"You weren't here! You haven't been in a long time so stop trying to act like you were."
Willow grew up in a house with six brothers, one of them being her twin. She's grown up in a two bedroom apartment with an alcoholic mother who never...
"She was trouble ⏤ Chaos, really. But her smile... Her smile dared me to fall in love with her."
...
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"Night twelve, stranger."
"You keepin' track?" Willow asks, a raised brow as she joins the mysterious boy on what's become their spot. The roof of an abandoned building that's been used as a party center for teens who wish to drink until they can't think and smoke until their lungs give out on them. Anything to soothe their chaotic, havoc wreaking minds and ease their pain.
A pretty fitting spot for the two, in all honesty. They were damaged. They knew it ⏤ everyone did, but they didn't care. They accepted it and they always picked fun at the fact ⏤ "we've made it back to our natural habitat" Willow would joke, and he would laugh, calling it fate that they had met at a place such as this.
It must be because of our abilities, being psychic and all. He would tell her, saying they must have just known to come here, and when she'd agree, he'd ask what else their nonexistent abilities were telling her, if she had come looking for him that night so they could have a future together. If they were "meant to be".
In your dreams, Willow would scoff, giving him a playful shove while he laughed, agreeing that, yes, it was in his dreams. A line she would call cheesy and cliche, something he couldn't argue, only laugh, continuing on as if he were kidding, when in reality, he wasn't. Not completely.
He loved their time together, the nights they would spend just talking and laughing, about whatever it was that came up, everything or nothing at all. It didn't matter, he never wanted it to end.
The boy didn't believe in love, and if he didn't believe in that, he definitely did not believe in love at first sight.
He never expected this chaotic, slightly crazy, amazing girl to prove him wrong.
He never expected her to get him to believe in the things he thought to be bullshit meant for the storybooks, along with all the "happily ever afters" in the fairy tales. All of that was just nonsense meant to give children hope so they could survive in the cruel world they had been brought into, but sooner or later, they would find out the truth.
He found it out too soon. He had lost his spark before he even had the chance to make it into a fire to shine. So, really, how could he believe in something he was always shown the complete opposite of? The things he was raised to believe weren't real? He couldn't.
Growing up, he wasn't read fairy tales or told stories where everyone lived happily ever after. He wasn't even read books at all. Instead, he would sit in his room, listening to his parents argue endlessly, a new fight each day.
Money problems. They didn't have enough of it, and when they did have some, somebody always spent it too fast, whether it was his mother shopping or his father buying cases and cases of beer.
