ft. my childhood teddy <3
❛ ⅋ 🐇 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 , 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 fussing with the barrette clipped at her temple before swiping her thumb beneath her lower lip ; checking for smudged lipstick , a stray crumb from a muffin she barely remembered eating . then it hit her — what the hell am i doing ? she thought while straightening the hem of her sweater . she sat just a little taller , in an attempt that it would make her look more put together . more unaffected .
of course she knew cooper was back . everyone did . he wasn't as mysterious as he liked to think he was . red creek didn't get many six foot four , gravel voiced , british pieces of shit swaggering through town . . . especially not cooper fucking riley . she hates the effect he has on her , even after all these years . mary's hands curl into fists in her lap . her manicured nails press crescents into her palms as she reminds her self — he does not get to do this to you anymore . but it's hard to hold onto that anger , that resentment , when she looks at him .
she'd imagined this moment before , picturing through all the ways she might see him again . maybe older , maybe softer , maybe carrying a little more regret in the set of his mouth . but she never imagined this . the weight in his eyes , the scars that weren't there before , the way his face is both achingly familiar and completely foreign . it made mary's heart clench . her fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and trace the lines of whatever past he's carried with him . she wants to ask , demand to know where he's been , what's happened to him — why he never wrote to her .
mary waited , like some loyal desperate thing sitting by the mailbox waiting for any sign that he was okay . she wanted to know if cooper still thought about her , even if it was just a few scribbled words on a torn out piece of notebook paper . but he never sent anything . and then — little dove .
something inside mary shattered , splinters straight through her ribcage . the words settle over her like dust disturbed from an old , forgotten place in her chest . that special part of her that once belonged to him . if this was one of her books , this would be the moment where she'd break . melt into his embrace and say something cutting but laced with longing . instead of falling right back into him mary slaps him . it's a quick and sharp . the crack of her palm against his face louder than she expected . the diner goes silent for a moment , eyes darting towards them . mary doesn't care and she doesn't apologize either .
" don't you —— " her voice catches , it's about to break but she swallows it down . mary will not cry , not in front of him . easier said than done . " you don't get to call me that , " mary chided a tear falling down her cheek . her hand clenches , nails biting into her palm once more . she forces her breathing to steady but it doesn't sound any less wrecked . " say whatever you came to say , bea — " mary winced , " — cooper . " she corrected , her voice sharper than before . " and then leave . "
✱ 𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙿𝙴𝚁 𝙷𝙰𝙳 𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚂 𝙻𝚈𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 himself , telling himself he’d made peace with it — leaving red creek , leaving her. that it had been the only choice , the right one. but now , sat inches away from mary kwon after all this time , he felt like he’d been kicked in the ribs. she was the only soft thing he’d ever let himself have , and he ruined it. ruined her. he told himself it was better that way , but christ , he must’ve been a right idiot if he ever believed that.
he wonders if she knows. if she knows about the picture he kept stuffed in his hat when he was off in some shithole overseas , the edges curled from how many times he’d traced his fingers over her face. if she knows about the letters — dozens of them , his messy scrawl pressed into whatever scraps of paper he could nick. words he never had the bottle to send.
mary , they always started. i don't know why i’m writing this.
some nights , he’d sit on his bunk , reading them over under the weak glow of a barracks lamp , pretending that maybe — just maybe — she’d still be waiting. that if he could just find the right words , the right way to say i never stopped loving you , then maybe he could fix it. but the letters always ended up in the same place — tucked away , crumpled up , gathering dust.
he thought about coming back. god , he thought about it. when he was halfway across the world , when he was soaked to the bone in the middle of nowhere , when the nights stretched on too long and all he could hear was the echo of her voice in his head. but how do you come back from something like this ? how do you look the girl you promised the moon to in the eye and tell her you never meant to break her heart ?
now , standing beside her , her name still thick on his tongue , cooper felt small. felt like that same reckless kid who never knew how to hold onto a good thing. and yet , after all these years , after all the miles and the regrets — he still wanted to try. finally , he sits , the stool creaking under his weight. “ little dove. ” it’s not a greeting , not a question — just her nickname , like maybe if he says it enough times , it’ll undo all the years between them.
This isn't how life is supposed to feel
irsshawty on Pinterest / I Saw The TV Glow / internetfavorite on Pinterest / kiyogakukai on Pinterest / Spotify on Pinterest / ladycranes on Pinterest / micheallasboard on Pinterest / Ryan O'Connell / norhanelhadry474 on Pinterest / @inanotherunivrse on Tumblr / ??? / Charles Wright, Scar Tissue in "Scar Tissue" / Barbara Kingsolver, The Lacuna / Priyer on Pinterest / vangore on X / perfumebathing on Instagram / marvinandrea89 on Pinterest / @hannahlockillustration on Tumblr / stickybaby on We Heart It / lesedimorapeli25 on Pinterest / Jnkskxm on Pinterest / Jeff Vandermeer, Annihilation / Fernando Pessoa, "English Song", A Little Larger Than the Entire Universe: Selected Poems / Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness / MrsandMrStyles on Pinterest / Chuck Palahniuk / justgiveittime on Pinterest / Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 6: 1955-1966 / Mary Macdonald, romanticizeaquietlife on Pinterest / Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl /
I accidentally deleted my credits while creating this & struggled to find the original creators again as I had already downloaded all of this content. Some of the credits are towards the original creators, but some are just references to where I was able to find the content after deleting my original credits. Please feel free to correct any of my credits if you see one that is incorrect 🫶🏼
❛ ⅋ 𝐢. 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 ━ setting description : dolly's diner !
❛ ⅋ 🐇 𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 . mary had spent most of her life waiting for the town to settle , for things to even out , and for the past to stay buried . but after kirby , it was clear — this town never let anything stay dead . mary sat at the counter of dolly's , stirring the spoon in her coffee long after the sugar had dissolved . the place was busy for a weekday , whispers of kirby's demise bleeding into every conversation around her . it was all the same — speculation , paranoia , bad theories . mary had heard it all before .
the door opened and a gust of winter air rushed in . mary barely glanced up , her fingers tightening around her mug as she listened to the footsteps approaching . " let me guess , " she started dryly , setting the spoon down with a soft clink . " you're about to tell me how it's just like '99 all over again . " finally , she lifted her gaze , arching her brow at the person beside her . " go on then , might as well get it over with . "
𝒲𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗌 ⠀ ࣪ 🦢 ﹚
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