The seconds seemed to freeze.
The trees withheld their sway, the birds their chirp, the wind its song.
Jamie could not even find the strength in himself to breathe.
How could he when air had lost its value, words had lost meaning, and Jamie had lost his purpose? He placed a trembling hand where his pulse should have been and wondered if he would ever feel alive again.The earth had stopped spinning as sure as his heart had stopped beating.
Fluorescent lights burned down on his pale skin and his feet tapped anxiously against the tile. There was the smell of antiseptics and rubber gloves that lingered through the air. Other families waited in the chairs nearby, and none of them looked exactly happy. This was not a happy place.
Tom and Jamie had been at the hospital for hours. The doctors had not let either of them inside. They sat and waited with their heads in their hands, their hearts in their throats. Jamie found quickly that he hated hospitals.
Tom called your parents shortly after arriving. Right now, they were at your bedside weeping silently to themselves. Your mother watched as you slept, clutching one of your hands with her own. Your father, held the other, hopefully waiting for you to wake.
All it had taken was a second to turn your whole world upside down.
"I should have paid closer attention," Jamie mumbled to himself. "I knew she was stubborn but I didn't think she would actually—"
"Stop." Tom shakes his head, a stern clench in his jaw as he held back tears. "There's no sense in blaming yourself, it wasn't anyone's fault. It was just... bad luck," he said dejectedly.
Jamie frowned. Tom was bouncing his legs nonstop, his eyes were unfocused and absent, and his breathing was shaky. His best friend was in the hospital and there was nothing he could do. There was nothing either of them could do.
Jamie played the situation in his head over and over again. There were millions and millions of outcomes, but of course, he had to wind up with one of the worst. He wonders what could have gone differently, how he could have prevented this.
It didn't help much. He was still in the hospital. You were still apart from him.
Jamie sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. He was running out of time.
"I can't do this any longer," he whispers. "I need to see her, now."
"You will," Tom says. "Just a little while longer."
"How much longer is a little longer?" he asks sourly.
Tom doesn't answer. Tom doesn't know.
It's another day before they see you again
✧ ˚ · .
You wince as you try to sit up in bed. A sore pain ricochets throughout your body and leaves you out of breath. Thankfully, you weren't terribly injured, save for a broken arm and a few scrapes and bruises. There was also a dull ache in your head, but you could not tell if it was from the accident or your overwhelming thoughts.
You still had not told your parents that you had broken up with Xander. With the accident and all, it was hard to find a place to tell them. Your stomach turned at the thought of how they might react.
But, at the same time, you had not done it for them. You had done it for yourself and you needed to keep that in mind. You were living for none other than yourself and if they could not accept that, it was not your problem.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. Two familiar faces enter.
"Hey, y/n," Tom says, Jamie follows in behind him.
A smile so large that it hurts spreads across your face. "Took you all long enough."
"We're not family so they wouldn't let us inside," Tom explains, taking a seat at your bedside. Jamie sits a bit farther away with a masked expression.
You frown and try to sit up once more. "But you two are more family than anything."
"Right?" Tom jokes. "I tried telling them I was your fraternal twin but they didn't listen."
"Striking resemblance," Jamie mumbles with a smirk. He seemed to have eased up, but he was still hesitating to meet your eyes. He was wearing a hoodie and long pants that covered up most of his skin.
"You're okay, right?" asks Tom, eyeing the fluids hooked up to your arms. "You won't be in here much longer?"
"Yeah, they were just running some tests." You nod. "I should be out of here soon, don't worry."
Tom lets out a sigh of relief. "That's great. I think my hair was starting to grey out there."
You chuckle. "I'll pay for the dye, don't worry."
"I'll remember that," he says, running his fingers through his hair as if to examine the dark strands. He clears his throat. "But really, I'm glad you're okay. You scared us half to death."
You look down at your hands, a heavy sinking in your chest. "I know, I'm sorry..."
"Don't be." Tom glances between you and Jamie. "I'll give you guys some alone time, though. Be back in a little while."
He squeezes your hand, and after a moment, he's gone. The door clicks behind him when he leaves. You turn your attention back to the man beside you.
"And then... there were two," you breathe, biting your lip as you give Jamie a flirtatious look.
"Stop it, behave yourself." He rolls his eyes and adjusts himself the chair closer to you. When he sits, he lets out a small, almost inaudible sigh.
"What's wrong?" you ask. "Did something happen?"
Jamie scoffs light-heartedly. "Y/n, you almost died. Yes, something happened."
"You know that's not what I mean."
He closes his eyes. "You almost died because of me."
"Don't do that," you plead. "I'm sorry. It's my fault, really."
Jamie pulls the hoodie off his head. He was wearing a white t-shirt underneath that exposed the tattoos on his fading arms. He lifts the hem of his shirt, giving you a peak of the deadly rash.
In other circumstances, your heart would be fluttering at the sight of solid abs, but your heart was not fluttering now. It was breaking and it was breaking in two.
Suddenly, the harsh reality sinks into your mind. You had failed. There was no fixing this. Jamie was fading.
"No..." you croak. "God, no, please."
Jamie leans forward and takes your hand into his. You could hardly feel it, and when you look down, you realize that was because it was hardly there.
"I know," he says, tearing his deep blue eyes away from yours. They were filling with tears quicker than he could help. He was slipping from your grasp quicker than you could help.
The taste of blood hits your tongue when you realize that you had been biting your lip. The pain failed to keep the tears at bay. You could feel them in the back of your throat, your eyes stung with the heavy gloom of the air.
Jamie takes a shaky breath before he continues. "Y/n, I'm going to be honest with you," he says. "There is no stopping this, there never was. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I didn't know how..."
Your cheeks are wet now and Jamie moves to wipe them away. He brings your hand to his lips, caressing and kissing the skin as if he worshipped it. He looked at you as though he did.
"But I love you," he says. "I really do. I love you more than I've loved anything in my entire life."
"Then why do you have to go?" you ask, barely managing to get the words out.
They say true love never dies, that it only gets stronger with time, but what if you had no time? What if you had already run out?
He hesitates. "I was never meant to be here, so of course I can't stay."
"You're meant to be here. With me." you assure. "I need you, Jamie, please."
He shakes his head, a tear falling down his cheek. "You don't need me, love."
You want to thrash and kick and scream. Why was it that every time something good was giving to you, it was taken away? Where was the sustainability in life? Or did it not exist?
"You know I can't lose you too."
Jamie blinks quickly, in hopes of un-watering his watering eyes. "I..." he sighs. "Y/n, you're so much more than just me. You're stronger than this." He forces a smile. "You're gonna be an famous author and you're gonna be rich and you're gonna be successful."
"But I won't have you."
He shrugs. "Who says? Maybe I'll come back. We'll see each other again. I know it."
You use a hand to wipe your wet cheeks. "This isn't fair."
Another tear falls down Jamie's cheek as well. "Believe me. I know."
You were trying to stay strong, but everything inside of you was caving in. You couldn't breathe, you couldn't think, and thanks to the tears, you couldn't see.
"I just wish we had more time," you murmur, trying to clear you're blurry vision.
Jamie pulls out a thick stack of papers from behind him. You furrow your burrows. "Whats that?"
"I found your manuscript." He chuckled. "What's it called...? Ink?" He peaks at the first page and reads it aloud. "'To the boy forged of paper, ashes, and—"'
"Ink," you say in unison.
"Yeah." He smiles. "When did you have time to write this all? I thought you were taking a break from writing."
You shrug. "I was. Believe it or not, that started out as a journal, but then... as I kept writing, I realized it would make one hell of a story, right?"
He flips through the reminiscent pages. "You wrote down our entire story. Our dates, our silly arguments, everything..."
"Yeah," you say. "I just... never knew how to end it right."
He flips back to the first page. "Oh..." The air grows thinner, he shifts a little. "What if I read it back to you?"
"The whole thing?" you chuckle sadly. "Be my guest."
He nods and starts from page one. The words flow through the air, carrying all your love and your anger and your sadness into the air. You feel each and every emotion over again. The way Jamie reads only adds to the magic of reliving it all. In a way, you fall in love with him again, only making it ten times harder to let go.
By the time he finishes, it's hard to not break down in tears. The both of you do.
"Y/n, you're writing is beautiful," Jamie says.
"Thank you," you whisper back.
He places the manuscript on your lap, leaning to kiss your forehead tenderly as he stands. "I know you'll end it perfectly."
Those words hurt like hell more than anything of the others. You couldn't end this. You couldn't write a story you didn't even want to live.
"When do you get discharged?" he asks.
"Today."
"Okay, I'll se you tonight. I love you."
"I love you too."