LXVI • 66

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Your POV:

"What's going on, kiddo?" Kenzie sat to your left at the Old Forge, a pub in Scotland that you'd been to together many times.
You didn't answer for several moments, staring into your whisky. You stabbed at an ice cube with a straw, then watched it float back to the top of the caramel coloured liquid.
"Did John put you up to this?" You asked, finally.
Kenzie had just taken a sip of her much more lively apple martini, and her eyes went wide behind her glass.
She set it down and drew her eyebrows together. "Why would you think that?"
You looked back down at your glass, but still didn't drink it. "Don't lie to me, Kenz. I'm not mad at either of you, I just want to know the truth."
She sighed. "Yeah, he wanted me to get you out of London for a bit."
You nodded, but said nothing.
"Please tell me what's going on?" She asked again.
"Nothing's going on. I'm fine." You replied, tugging your sweatshirt tighter around you and zipping it up to the neck.
She squinted at you, but said no more.
The two of you sat in silence until she finally spoke up several minutes later.
"Look, (F/N), I don't want you to get upset at me and I don't mean to pry, but seriously, girl, something is up with you. I've been your best friend for five years- I can tell when something's wrong. I get that these past few weeks have been really rough and I'm not going to pretend I know what that's like. I also get it if you don't want to talk about it, but I don't want you denying the fact that there is something bothering you."

Best friends. They were good for too much sometimes.

You continued staring at your drink- an action which you felt at this point must have been making the other pub-goers antsy- until you finally worked up the courage to tell her.
"It seems..." You stopped, thought for a long moment. It didn't matter how you worded it in your head, it still sounded insane. You finally decided to just go with whatever came out.
She'd understand.
"It seems like ever since I woke up everything's... started over. I had begun to accept his passing but when I woke up it's like I felt a rush of all of the five stages all over again. I think I'm somewhere in the middle of depression for the second time."
Kenzie watched you for a long moment.
"That's... completely understandable. Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?"
She was trying so hard.
"I don't think so."
"What helped last time?" She offered.
"Time. A long time. That's why it's so hard."
"Oh." She was at a loss for words, an unusual spectacle in the presence of MacKenzie Whitley.
You couldn't hold back the warm smile that broke over your face. It didn't last for long, but it was there.
She looked up, a teasing grin on her face. "I made you smile." She taunted.
You smiled again, unable to help yourself.
"Yes. You made me smile. Proud of yourself?" You grinned.
"Oh yes. Immensely." She said, smirking in satisfaction. She then glanced at your still untouched whisky. "Are you going to drink that?" She asked with uncertainty.
"Why are you asking?" You looked up with a little smirk.
"Because," she began, slightly offended at your thought pattern, "if you're not we can leave here and go back to my flat. It's a much nicer environment to hang out."
You considered this. "Yeah okay. You want it?" You shoved it toward her.
"Nooo." She said. "Whisky is not my kinda thing."
"Obviously not mine either." You replied, pushing it away and slipping off your stool.

******

"Well if I can't offer any award-winning emotional support, I'm just going to have to get you past this in some other fashion." Kenzie said, unlocking the door to her flat. "Obviously alcohol does not work on you. Although if you'd actually had some, you may have faired differently." She added, shooting a glance at you.
"Oh, yeah, you're setting a great example, Kenz." You replied sarcastically, but laughed.
She stuck her tongue out at you, then planted herself in the nearest chair and patted the one next to her. "Get over here, kiddo."
You dragged yourself toward the chair and sat down.
"What do you want?" She asked. "I'm here to fix things."
You wanted to humour her- she was trying so hard to help you- but you couldn't think of anything besides Sherlock.
"I want him." You said, before you could stop yourself. "I'm sorry." You added quickly. "That's not what you meant, sorry."
She sighed.
"Look, (N/N), if you wanna talk about him, that's fine. If you think it'll help you, I'll listen."
You considered this. It had helped in the past- thinking about the good things.
You opened your mouth to speak, but  found that no words came out. For once, you couldn't think of anything about Sherlock- despite having not been able to think of anything other than him just a few moments before.
It took you several minutes, but you finally spoke.
"I see him everywhere, Kenz."
She gave you a sympathetic smile but said nothing.
"I don't trust anyone now- any man at least- not after Sebastian."
"I don't blame you." She said.
"He'd be disappointed in me. He'd want me to find someone that makes me happy, but he was the only one, Kenz. I honestly think he was the only one who made me really happy. Who ever will make me really happy." You sighed. "It was ironic, really. He hated everyone- he didn't even like me- but somehow I saw something in him that first day. Something I liked." You sighed again, and you looked distant, thinking about the day that you'd first met him. It seemed so much longer ago than it was.
Two years. You'd met him two years ago, and he'd been dead for the last year and a half.

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