₊𝕰

“𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚏 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎… 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠..” Y/N died young. Mattheo didn’t. And that was the cruel part. He grew old carrying someone who never got the chance to. Their face stayed twenty-something in his memories while his own hands became wrinkled, his hair turned silver, and the world slowly replaced everything they had once known. He never stopped talking to them. Sometimes under his breath. Sometimes in empty rooms. Sometimes on the anniversary of their death, when he’d sit somewhere quiet and tell Y/N everything they had missed. Years became decades until, finally, Mattheo died. When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t afraid. Because someone was standing a few feet away. Young. Familiar. Exactly as he’d remembered them. Y/N. Mattheo just stared. Y/N smiled through tears. And suddenly all those years without them felt like something impossibly distant.