unsteady

love

                                       and even if one day our time is through

                                                            there won't be anybody after you

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AN: hi after you came out when WE NEEDED IT BAD and let me just say that gave me a dosage of inspo that i think we all needed. forget 5 hour energy, i only know sean lew choreography.

Sean

___

He had felt her presence snatched from his life. His days felt empty. He missed her, he missed her, he missed her. She had come to mean so much to him, and nothing had ever compared to the fear or loss he had felt when he heard she'd overdosed in her bathroom, terrified and alone. 

If it were up to me, he thought, if I had one more chance, she'd never feel alone again.

He could've done more to stop it, he thought, punishing himself. He could've been there for her.

When he'd read her note, his throat had clenched and tears had formed in his eyes.

That had been killer.

Then he'd flipped over the back.

Love is the strongest word on earth.

But I like to think hope is a close second.

I love you, Sean. Never lose hope.

But Kaycee, he had whispered, his lips barely parting, suffering under the weight of the words. You are my hope.

___

He had to wait two weeks.

He knew she was better in the rehabilitation area, but that didn't mean he didn't miss her. She was only allowed to see her mom and Kylie, but he had an inkling that Kylie never came. He had tried to go, three times actually. But they'd shook their heads, and turned him away. He'd slip down corners until he thought he was out of their sight and then tried to make a break for it, but they'd caught him everytime, and then he'd been escorted out by a bulky security guard who told him that there were enough crazy kids inside, and that they didn't need anymore.

Kaycee isn't crazy, Sean had told him, insistently. She's just lost.

That's what you think, the guy had said, and slammed the door in his face.

He knew her better than that.

He had to.

____

two weeks later

The whole time he'd been driving, he'd been anxiously jittering his fingers, tapping his foot, adjusting the radio back and forth. He'd gotten up extra early, shaved, gelled his hair, stressed over outfits with his sisters until they rolled their eyes and left, and had, in his state of nerves, cooked a meal equivalent to the size of a Thanksgiving feast for his family. 

Kaycee, his sisters had mouthed to his mother when she'd entered the kitchen, looking around in confusion. He didn't even care, because it was true, but he also wasn't going to let them know he saw. He was afraid to talk about it, as if something would jinx it. 

I'm coming, he thought over and over. 

I'm coming. As he parked.

I'm coming. As he shakily signed in.