I’m here.” He lets out a sob, burying his face into your neck. “Y/N,” he chokes, kneeling and gathering you in his arms. He’s certain he’s going to vomit when he sees you up close, rasping for breath. Lifeless.Īs soon as the monster slams down, dead, he races to you, nausea twisting in his stomach. Somebody is screaming your name and it takes him a moment to realise it’s him, watching you as you tumble to the floor. It’s dying, now, collapsing and taking everything else in its path but he doesn’t care. He tastes bile in his throat as the monster rips itself away, leaving you boneless and soaked in your own blood. It would have to be you, because God help he ever had something to live for. He feels it like he’s the one standing there, sacrificing himself. You let out a shriek as the monster plunges itself into your heart. His soul is the colour of that blood, the colour of your death. No.” He’s frozen to the spot, begging his legs to move, to save you, but they’re stuck in the same tar that’s pouring out of your mouth-and he knows when he sees it that there is nothing left. He’s certain that in this new silence, he can hear his heart shattering. When your body turns limp as the monster sucks the life from you. Your screams take over after that, piercing and haunting and something he’ll never forget the sound of. He won’t be able to live his life without you. He wants so badly for it to be the other way around, because he knows this is it for him, too. You’re mouthing something, and he’s trying so desperately to get to you, but Max and Mike are using every bit of strength to keep him back, keep him safe. “No! No!” He’s roaring now, too, and you finally turn your head as the monster curls into you, until he can’t tell where you end and it begins. The monster reaches out its gnarled limbs, aiming for Eleven. And then you’re rising from El, and he’s still screaming, but none of it matters. Max is clinging onto him, begging him not to go to you, and he can’t manage to tear himself away in time. He’s shouting your name, but you can’t hear him over the towering monster. He knows when he skids around the corner and finds you bent over El. You want it to be your last memory, your last taste of life.īilly is too late. You turn your head to it slowly, trembling, keeping that image of you and Billy entangled in your brain. And you know that if this thing can live inside of you, you can take life from it, too. You choke on your tears, another roar rumbling through the Starcourt.
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When he traced the letters I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U onto your skin with rough fingertips. All the nights he’s snuck into your room, bruised and battered and needing you, and you’ve fucked away his sadness and then lain with him, whispering to him how it’s going to be okay.īut you know Eleven means the first night he ever told you. Nobody knows but you and Billy and the moonlight you lay in that night. He writes it on your arm because he can’t say it, but you know it’s true. “He’s holding you and you’re…you’re happy. Your hands loosen around her neck with each word. “You’re wearing his shirt,” Eleven says through a sob. Eleven whispers to you, brings you back with a memory she shouldn’t know about. You only know there’s been a darkness infesting your insides, and now it stands in front of you, a monster more terrifying than anything you’ve ever seen before. You don’t know who you are, where you’ve been, these last weeks.
You know the moment you look into Eleven’s eyes and finally see that you won’t be making it out alive. Originally posted by harrington-diaries-blog
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