One Shots and Headcanons

That Night

The silver of the ring shone in the moonlight and dim lighting of the lamp at the desk. She rested her chin on the edge of the desk, staring at the ring that usually resided on her index finger. In the center of the ring was a smooth black heart, a silver crown resting atop it. The pieces of the band that connected to it were slim and interwoven like vines, leaving holes. The rest of the band, though, was solid and slim.

Her lips quirked up as she observed the misshapen area of the ring from when she had tried to squeeze a broken piece back into place. If it weren't for the odd shape of the ring band, no one would truly be able to tell that anything was amiss. She ran the pad of her thumb over the smooth surface of the black heart and sighed.

Wearing it, touching it, seeing it, it all brought back memories that had her throat closing up and her heart racing. It had only been one night, and somehow that one night had changed everything for her.

She grasped the small piece of jewelry, her eyes fluttering shut as she thought about the ring's significance, about the night that she obtained it.

The night had changed not only her, but a certain a group of boys.

Her memories claimed her, bringing her back to what she considered to be one of the happiest times of her life.

Laughter ringing in the night, filling the hollowness in her chest, making the city seem a little bit more alive than it usually was. She had never thought the city could make her feel good before, but she was proven wrong, stitches in her side from giggles and cheeks aching from smiles. Whenever she bothered to visit the city, it had seemed as empty as her, but this group of peculiar boys made it seem better than it actually was.

Lips brushed against her knuckles in greeting; her cheeks heating up at the contact. She had read about men greeting girls like that before, but she had never experienced it, and her only response was to drop into a mock curtsey. They laughed at it, and her blush had disappeared, finding that she was comfortable with the group of misfits.

The one with manners and brown eyes that had a fire lit in them hung onto her hand afterwards, and she didn't pull away.

The background noise of the subway as she inhaled their scents greedily: spice and ocean and musk and so many other favorable smells that would forever be imprinted in her mind. Being surrounded by so many wonderful scents and people made it easy to forget that the night would have to end soon.

The taste of the chocolate that her and her mischievous friend had to hide in order to keep. Several times they had been nearly caught, but they prevailed, and split the last piece in half, savoring the sweet taste and each other's company. It was never easy to have a friend that despised sweets so much that he wanted to take it from you, but she had found it endearing about him, even as his whisky brown eyes and scowl nearly intimidated her enough to give up the chocolate.

The dance club: the lights, the bodies, the cacophony of music and voices. That portion was always a blur, but she would forever remember the way she felt during it. The smile on her face had been so wide that her cheeks hurt. The lights had blinded her, men made passes at her, but she had never felt so light in her life, as if she could just float away if she didn't remain anchored to the ground. And luckily, she did have anchors. Those misfit boys she had met kept her on the ground, holding her hand and keeping her close.

The dance club had potentially been one of the best parts of the night. Her fingers entwining in golden locks, mischievous brown eyes and an equally mischievous smiles dancing before her vision. A flirty smile, enchanting me long enough to listen to one of his awful jokes before giggling and dragging him onto the dance floor.

The end of the night was the worst part, the part that hurt the most to think about.

The tight hugs that signified goodbye for now, or maybe even forever. Pressed against warm chests in the chilly breeze, and a cold but beautiful ring being slid onto her finger carefully. She had almost given the ring back, but she knew she couldn't, that it meant too much to her. The ring was a reminder of that night and a promise, and she would keep it for as long as she could. It was all she had left of them besides the memories, and memories would eventually fade.

The meaningful looks she shared with a set of serious green eyes before stepping onto the subway, craning her next to keep sight of them for as long as possible. The only thing that had kept her from unraveling during the ride home was the promise that the group of strangers had made with her.

The ring may have been a promise, but that promise had been broken along with her heart. She mentally shut down, slamming the door on the memories that only made her heart bleed and her head throb. She grit her teeth, as if that could physically block out the memories and the pain.

She slid the ring back on, climbed underneath her thin blanket, and prepared herself for the morning.

No tears were shed no matter how badly they burned her eyes; no tears for creatures of the night, no tears for broken promises. 

a/n: So this is something I wrote in creative writing, and it may turn into a full fledged fanfiction but we'll see. Please let me know your thoughts!