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Two times Blue Loved Gansey, and one time she didn’t
I.
“Get me out of here,” Blue whispered. She needed to leave, she needed to be with him. Out of the house, of the big house where it was never truly quiet and where it was dark and she was missing him.
Time barely seemed to pass before she heard the Pig’s engine outside of her home (time certainly had progressed, but it always seems to go quicker when you know your time with someone is limited)
They didn’t talk much. She had probably woken him up; it was 4AM, to be fair. She wasn’t too worried though, Gansey never had been one to sleep often. She wasn’t sure where they were going, but as long as she was alone with him, nothing really seemed to matter. He was like a ticking time bomb, and she didn’t know when he would go off. Every moment with him was like a blessing.
Once they arrived, neither of them moved. It didn’t seem like they had to. The Pig overlooked a ledge, they seemed to be parked right near the edge. It was beautiful. The sun was barely coming up, and the birds were beginning to wake. All seemed right in the world, in that moment they shared.
She caught him staring at her, but she pretended not to notice. It felt like a secret; one she never had to give away, one that was always hers. She knew, without a doubt, Richard Gansey III was staring at her like he was in love (and so was she, of course) and she knew she would keep that secret, that look, to herself until the day she died.
Then, he talked. He told her about stories of him and Ronan and Adam and Noah, when they would be happy and lively and they would just be boys. He knew how to take her mind off anything and everything, even if he didn’t have a single clue what was going on inside her head. She thought it was strange (no, amazing) that Gansey, the boy himself Blue could never stop thinking about, worrying about, could relieve her fears in an instant. He was both her poison and her antidote, and that terrified her.
II.
Oftentimes, sleep doesn’t find Blue. She doesn’t necessarily mind, the two never were really friends. She had grown used to it. What she wasn’t a fan of, however, was that now, when she laid awake at 3AM with nothing, Richard Gansey filled her thoughts. She felt an urge to call him a lot, to ask him to come get her, to take her away. Right now, however, Blue didn’t want to be faced with reality.
She knows Gansey is going to die, of course she does. Before the end of the year, he was going to be gone. What was she going to do? It wasn’t her fault (was it...?) but she still felt guilty.
The day fills her with dread; sometimes she wishes she could trade him. She wished that she could die and, however horrible it is of her, put the awful days that follow on him. Blue wasn’t usually a selfish girl; she was blunt and stubborn, she was sympathetic and intelligent. She never usually questioned herself, but right now, at 3:13AM on a Tuesday night, she felt like she wouldn’t be able to handle life without Gansey. How could the universe be so cruel? How could it give her such an amazing, perfect person, but put a time limit on them?
She was so, so, inconceivably, remarkably in love with him, and she knew she couldn’t waste a single day that she had left with him on this Earth.
III.
3 days. 68 hours and 35 minutes. 246900 seconds. That’s exactly how long Gansey had been out of her life. Now it was 246905 seconds. She couldn’t love him anymore. It hurt too much, and she just wished she could forget him. His stupid face and his stupid eyes, and that stupid way he chewed his mint leaves and how when he pondered something his thumb went to his lip and it was all so stupid and lovely and wonderful and she wanted it to go away.
She wasn’t sure she could ever truly stop loving Gansey, but she had to. What’s the point of holding on to something that was gone forever?