Supernova Stories

short 14

kinda sad tbh...

Twenty-one years.
That's how long they had been partners in crime, starting from age fourteen.

Seventeen years.
That's how long they had known of their feelings for each other, and reciprocated them. All throughout college, and even into their detective lives.

Three years.
That's how long they had been detective partners, just like they always wanted. Not only that, but off-duty lovers.

Two years.
That's how long they had been separated for.

Neither of them could really pinpoint when it happened, or why. They both told different stories when people would ask, if they told stories at all. Celine was silently upset, and she had kept her silence for two years. Redwood didn't mention it if it wasn't brought up. When the police chief received Celine's request for a partner swap with one of the other detectives who worked in the building, he couldn't understand it. In a way, Celine couldn't understand her own actions either. Anger was the wrong word for what she felt. She was upset, but she wasn't angry. If she was angry, it was a numb kind of anger. Celine's pride got in her way sometimes, so believing that the breakup was her fault wasn't an option. Redwood didn't necessarily know who to blame. Something seemed to cloud his head one day, and he made an irrational decision. He had broken things off with the love of his life, but why was he throwing her away if she was the love of his life? Why was he letting her go? Why was he letting her slip through his fingers like melting, white sand, and releasing her from a bond that she didn't want to be released from?

What was wrong with him?

Once Celine switched partners, Redwood knew it was over. The pair didn't talk much anymore after the breakup. It wasn't a messy breakup or anything, there was nothing messy about it, but something about being in love for so long then suddenly feeling so numb wasn't comforting for either of the star detectives. Celine continued to wear her signature medical mask, but any time Redwood would walk by her (which was a very slim occurrence) he would realize that he would never see underneath that mask again. When the two of them were alone, her mask was never on. He loved seeing her beautiful freckles, and even the scar on her jaw was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. But now her beauty seemed out of reach, and he had nobody to blame but himself. He would never feel her lips on his again, he would never feel her embrace, and he would never snuggle up to her perfect body again.

What was wrong with him?

It wasn't until the police department had a get-together at a nearby bar for a cold case solved that Redwood noticed his alcoholism. He wasn't sure how many drinks he had ordered by this point, but he didn't care, just like he didn't care about how many drinks he had when he was alone in his apartment. The ginger-haired man sat at the bar, sitting comfortably on his bar stool with his elbow resting on the counter in front of him, and his free hand supporting his head. His busy hand held his beer, and every so often, when the bottle would empty itself into his stomach, he would order another one. One thing that upset him less than the heartbreak was his growing tolerance to the effect of alcohol on his body. It was slowly taking more and more beers to bring him comfort every day he sunk deeper into his grief. But the grief was his fault. He broke things off, not Celine. Not his beautiful girl.

When Redwood felt an arm brush him as someone sat beside him, his first instinct was to turn his head in that direction, just to the left of him. His eyes glanced to the left, then he looked back at his beer just a moment later. Not even a second after that, he fully turned his head to his side, maybe quicker than he had meant to. He saw the familiar blonde hair beside him, signature red dyed tips, accompanied by beautiful blue eyes. Upon taking a glance around the bar, Redwood realized the last open barstool was right beside him, so Celine had no choice but to sit there.