Chapter Text
The sun shone bright and hot in the evening. The grass fluttered in the wind, and the bees buzzed over the vibrant flowers.
Just how he had liked it.
This would be the time when the two of them walked up to their bench, that wasn't really even theirs. They just spent so much time on it that it became a place unofficially intended for them.
Jokes and laughs would pass between the two friends as they made their way up the hill, exchanging giggles and bright smiles and friendly teasing.
When they had made it up, one of them would slide a disk into the jukebox that stood right by the bench. The sound would jingle in the air, as they could proceed to talk about random things or crack ridiculous jokes until night fell, and it was time to go home.
They both liked it like that.
The wind whispered to the boy making his way up the steep hill. The wind wondered why he was still going up there everyday. There wasn't anyone waiting, after all. And yet the boy persevered.
His muddy shoes crushing the grass underneath them, he made it to the bench. The boy sat down, his mouth widening into a small, shakey smile. "This is how you liked it." The boy's voice was raspy. Maybe from crying, maybe from the fact that he refused to speak with anyone after what happened. These were his first words in days.
"This is how you liked it." He repeated, like a broken record. "Remember?" His voice broke, and his eyes brimmed with tears. "Which one do you think today?" The blonde's voice shook as he took out a few music disks of varying colours. He stood strong, though. At least, for the moment. "Come on, don't be shy. Tell me what you want to put on." His voice got bossier. But only the wind howled in response.
With unsteady hands, the boy slid a red disk into the box. A light, happy tune started hopping around in the air, a sweet melody. "I remember you liked this one a lot." He continued, clearing his throat to try to even out his voice. "It's …" The boy held back a sob that suddenly shot up his throat. "It's not the same without you here!" He suddenly blurted out, lifting his hands to cover the tears streaming from his eyes, to muffle his loud sobs.
The music continued to play, as if nothing was wrong. But everything was so, so wrong. The boy cried for what seemed like hours. Curled up on the wooden seat, knees tucked in and face hidden. His sobs got quieter, less frequent. The blonde kept his eyes closed. If he didn't look, he could almost pretend that his best friend was still there. Right there with him. Just a touch away. Just a pair of his closed eyelids away. He could almost believe it.
But if the brunette was here, he would have done something. Said something. Anything, to let the hurt, broken boy know it was ok. But only the wind and the song reached his ears. The sorrowful boy opened his eyes, the sunlight too bright for him to fully see at first. After his vision adjusted, he looked out onto the fields, the towers, the buildings. He hoped the boy with the green shirt was watching over him. Maybe the small brunette was even sitting right next to him. The only problem was that he was a whole world away.
The blonde boy placed a hand down on the spot next to him, right where his best friend would be sitting. The music combined with the chirping of birds brought a sense of peace to the grieving blonde. He smiled a full smile, for the first time in days, and closed his eyes. "Just how you like it, right, Tubbo?" And he swore he heard a voice in the wind say, "yeah."