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Remember

(you might have originally seen this in @Redsthebeststick 's oneshot book but i was the one who wrote it so im putting it here

TW/CW: implied character death, hopelessness)

Rain poured down outside and Chosen's mood reflected the weather.

Dreary, downcast, depressing...

He couldn't help it.

He couldn't stop the memories.

He looked around. He was at the kitchen table. He briefly thought about eating, but that thought was quickly drowned out by others.

He couldn't help it.

It was the damn weather's fault.

Dark was always happiest during storms, and just rain in general. The sound was soothing (and it meant it would never get fully silent) and it wouldn't get too bright out. So he'd always wake up early, go downstairs, make himself breakfast, and just stare out the window for a little while until Chosen came down. Dark would (sort of) patiently wait as Chosen ate his breakfast, and every once in a while, Chosen would glance over and Dark's smile, a smile of pure joy for no good reason, would make up for the lack of sunlight.

Then usually after that, the two of them would go outside in the pouring rain, just to be out there with each other. Then, soaking wet, they'd go do any errands and come back drenched, laughing for no reason other than that they could. They'd attempt to dry themselves off a bit and Dark would grab a container of ice cream out of the freezer while Chosen turned the TV on. Dark would come out and the two of them would sit on the couch, just enjoying each other's presence and closeness, while watching a movie and eating ice cream. They often fell asleep like that.

The flashback ending, Chosen sighed. How many weeks had it been since he had found what was left of Dark in the field? He had lost track a while ago, but he knew it had to have been at least 50.

How was it that it had been so long, yet he still felt so bad? That just because he was alone in the house, the nights seemed to get so much colder?

Chosen tried to focus on the sound of the rain, but the sound was no longer comforting. Just repetitive. So many different raindrops, all making the same sound as they all met the same end and just ran down the side of the house or the window or the slanted roof. As if there was no point of them being unique in the first place.

What was going on? How could Chosen be hurting so much, but be almost completely numb at the same time? How long does it take to forget — or even just let go of — someone who promised, long ago (or maybe it wasn't all that long), that he'd never let you forget his name?