drabbles

on the end

"Hey, don't look there. Look up at me."

She was shaking so hard that she could barely lift her head, but she obeyed anyway. Trembling black eyes met brown, both filled with tears and raw terror.

"That's it. Let's talk about something else, yeah?" His voice remained steady, though she could hear the tremor that lay beneath it. His hand found hers in the dark and jerkily entwined their shaky fingers until their sweaty palms were sealed together.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to answer but choked on the word stuck in her throat. She nodded instead, a sharp jerk of her head that he seemed to register through the hazy fear in his head.

"Do you—" his words were cut off by a loud explosion that was terrifyingly close to where they were huddled, sending rocking vibrations that rattled them thoroughly. They both flinched, but she, as if sensing his racing heartbeat, squeezed his hand in reassurance before pulling it up to her chest and resting it against her forehead. He let her, his sad eyes tracing her terrified figure as she pressed their linked hands to her forehead as comfort.

"Do I what?" Her voice was rough from crying, but it snapped him out of his trance. Right. Who was the one comforting who, now?

"Do you remember yesterday, wh-when Alex stole my water bottle as a prank?" his voice cracked despite the brave front he was trying to put up, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah. I got so mad because he nearly dropped it down the stairs," she whispered back, as if afraid of breaking the fragile silence. Even though stray tears still dripped from her cheeks, her voice seemed lighter and he counted that as a win.

"You almost murdered him with that chair."

"Did not."

"Did so. I had to forcibly drag you off of him because both of you were laughing so hard even though you were trying to strangle him."

"Says the one who nearly shoved Leo into oncoming traffic because he teased me about my math grade."

"That was an accident and you know it! I didn't mean to push that hard, and besides you seemed so upset," his voice protested, its volume rising until they were almost speaking normally.

She started giggling. "You nearly murdered our best friend because you thought I was sad about getting a 20/30 on a test?"

"You got a 20/30? That's so high! Why were you even sad?"

"Yeah, that's my point. I wasn't. Wherever did you get that idea from? I was just tired and didn't want to deal with Leo that day."

"You're telling me I nearly murdered our best friend because your tired face looks like your sad face?"

"That's what I was trying to say!"

They both broke out into uncontrollable laughter, the sound loud and sharp in the silence around them. Even though it sounded terrible because of their cracking voices from crying, it felt good. Like taking a weight off their exhausted, aching shoulders. They laughed and laughed until tears came to their eyes and their stomachs ached, filling the empty room with the bright sound of their joy.

It slowly faded away, and with it went the fluffy, warm high of laughter until they were sitting together in silence again, shoulder-to-shoulder and hands tangled together.

"I'm scared," the two words slipped through his cracked lips, sounding broken and sad in the quiet room.

She responded by wrapping her arm tightly around him and digging her face into his shoulder.

"I am too," she whispered into his jacket sleeve.

They sat in silence for another few minutes, both shutting their eyes with their arms around the other in a tight hug and just indulging in each other's presence. Distantly, another explosion sounded, but neither of them flinched. To each of the two, their partner was enough to calm their heart rate until both were in sync.

"You know, I loved you way before you loved me," she broke the silence with a quiet confession. He nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"I met you for the first time on the first day of school. I didn't fall for you then, but I did the first time you came to watch me play. I don't know what it was. The way you were watching me while I was on the court, maybe? You looked at me like I'd plucked the stars from the sky and offered them to you. Or the fact that you went and bought my favourite drink to give to me after the match? I didn't even remember telling you what it was," she rambled, her hand tracing vague patterns on his arm as she spoke.

He hummed in acknowledgement. "I fell for you the day we walked home together. You were trying to get me to dance on a grass field while I was chasing after you, trying to get you to put your shoes back on. I don't know what it was, either. Maybe it was just the way the setting sun framed you and scattered golden light everywhere. Maybe it was the way you were smiling so widely that I couldn't help but smile back. Maybe it was the way your eyes were staring at me in so much innocent wonder, like you couldn't believe I existed," he answered, idly running his trembling fingers through her soft hair.

It went on like that for a while. They exchanged stories, spoke words that they'd never voiced aloud and told each other secrets that they hadn't even considered confessing before that day. It calmed them, somehow, talking about everything they could think of while they waited for the inevitable.

And the inevitable did come—it was the inevitable, after all, and no one can run from it. When it did, they just shut their eyes and held each other without a word.

After the dust had settled, all that was left was just another pile of rubble, scorched black from the explosion and slowly crumbling into dust. It was as if the two figures that'd been curled into each other had vanished entirely, their very existence wiped clean from the world in one instant of flame and wind.

Such was death, after all; it erases memories both cherished and forgotten, killing those both prepared and unprepared without prejudice. What is, then, the worst way to die? Dying alone may be a curse; but not dying alone could be arguably both a curse and a blessing—for you die with the knowledge that someone dies with you.

At the end of the day, does it even truly matter? What is the purpose of making memories of breathless laughter and joyful love if they are to be erased sooner or later? Perhaps it is for the momentary flash of joy they bring or the high of happiness that comes with them. Perhaps it is just because there is nothing else to do but live, and if living is the only choice then one might as well make it worthwhile.

Perhaps it is simply so that when your time comes, when you shut your eyes and brace for the end—you'll have something to think of as the world caves in.