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What happens after the worst four minutes and seven years of your life

Summary:

Because after all is said and done, Four minutes is too late.

TW: Referenced past suicide

Notes:

Guys I love my oc's <3 I have photos of them in my art book if ur curious!!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The flowers had all died last Monday.

 

Neptune sighed, glancing out the window at the slumped plants.They had been forgetting to water them since she left. Neptune shook their head at the thought, sighing audibly.

 

“She didn’t leave. I pushed her away. It was for her own good.” Their quiet voice echoed in the empty room, the walls seemingly whispering the words back to them. Neptune slumped back over the desk, burying their head in their arms. They glanced at the photo frame on their desk, before setting it face down on the table. “She’s gone.” They whispered, voice cracking slightly. “Accept it.” 

 

A small thud echoed through the room and Neptune perked up glancing hopefully at the door. They rolled their eyes, slumping back against the desk. It was stupid the way that they listened for footsteps in the empty house. How each small thump made their heart race. 

 

“Get over it.” They mumbled, glaring at the face down photo on their desk. They took the photo in their hands, shaking slightly. They gazed at the picture, before hurling it at the wall. 

 

The sound of glass shattering echoed through the vacant apartment, shards scattering across the floor. Neptune sat up, moving to crouch beside the shattered frame. They carefully gathered the shards in their hands, small pricks of blood staining the glass crimson. Neptune ignored the stinging, mumbling incoherently under their breath. They sat the shards down gently on their desk, picking up the photo in trembling hands. 

 

“I’m sorry.” They whispered to the photo. “I’m sorry I couldn't be enough to protect you from myself. My stupid, stubborn angel.” 

 

A firm knock sounded at the door and Neptune glanced up hopefully, cautiously setting the photo on the desk. They made their way to the door, footsteps barely grazing the floor boards. They hesitantly turned the doorknob, opening the door by a crack.

 

“Rent.” Their landlord said monotony, holding out his hands. Neptune’s expression dropped, shoulders slumping slightly. They reached over to the side table, pulling a small white envelope out of the drawer. 

 

“Sorry it’s late.” They mumble softly, handing him the envelope. 

 

“It’s…fine.” He says gruffly, pocketing the envelope. “I heard about what happened with… the least I can do is cut you some slack.” He shrugged, walking away from Neptune’s door. He glanced back for half a moment, pity flashing in his eyes before his usual gruff demeanor returned, turning away and leaving. Neptune blinked, registering his words before shutting the door. 

 

Neptune leans back against the door, staring into the empty room. The lights seemed almost too bright, despite barely any being on. Since when did the room start getting warmer? They never turned on the heater, and it was January. Why was the air so incredibly thick? Breathing isn’t supposed to feel like there’s lead in your lungs… right?

 

“How many people know about…” They whisper quietly, before shaking their head, willing themself not to think that. “It’s fine.” They affirm themself quietly, releasing their hold on the doorknob. “It’s probably just him being the nosy person he is, it’s not like anyone actually cares what happens in some random college kid’s life. Stuff like this happens all the time.” Their voice becomes erratic. Loud, but not quite shouting. 

 

Neptune pushes themself off the door, standing shakily. Every noise in the room seems amplified, the sounds of their breath practically echoing through the room. They move back to the desk, footsteps seemingly thudding against the creaky wooden floorboards. They stare back down at the photo, picking it up between their fingers tenderly. They gaze at the faces in the photo, before looking up at the mirror hanging above their desk. They carefully comb their fingers through their shaggy hair, attempting to pat it down. Neptune held the photo up against the mirror, shoulders slumping slightly. The faces looked almost completely different. 

 

Side by side, the differences were almost obvious. The person in the photo seemed warm, and happy, skin practically glowing in the sunlight. The face in the mirror seemed ghostly, and displaced, looking nearly dull. There were other things missing too. The person in the photo was standing tall, and grinning, while the figure in the mirror slumped over, lips pressed into a frown. Then there was…her. In the photo she was there, standing by their side, arm wrapped around their shoulders. In the mirror the space beside them was empty, leaving only the ghost of what used to be there. 

 

Another knock sounded at the closed door. The sound was different from their landlord's usual sharp thud, instead a hesitant soft knock rapped against the door. Neptune gasped softly, glancing towards the door hopefully. They reluctantly walked towards the door, clasping their fingers over the doorknob. They stared at the door knob, opening the door slowly, hesitantly glancing up at the figure in the doorway.

 

Her. She was there, outside their doorstep. For a moment, she didn’t seem real. The setting sun cast a soft golden outline around her frame, making her look almost angelic. Like she belonged amongst the clouds, not at the door of their apartment.

 

“Hey.” Nyx said softly, hands held awkwardly at her sides, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. 

 

“...Why are you here?” Neptune responded, voice cracking unexpectedly. “I told you to go.” 

 

“It takes more than that to keep me away.” She smirked, a hint of her old personality showing through. “I wanted to apologize though..” Her expression softened. 

 

“Apologize?!” Neptune stepped back, glaring at the floor. “For what?! Leaving when I told you to?! Making what was probably the smartest decision of your life?!” They snapped. 

 

“If it was the smartest decision, then why doesn’t it feel like it?” Nyx asked softly, hesitantly reaching out for Neptune’s shoulder. Neptune wrenched their shoulder away, and she frowned. “You don’t have an answer, do you? You keep pushing everyone away as soon as they get you to open up!” Her voice raised slightly, running her hand through her hair in frustration. “What are you so scared of? What are you trying to hide?!” 

 

“Why do people keep thinking that?!” Neptune snapped. “They keep thinking that there’s something there, something that I'm hiding, some real reminiscence of a person, but there's not! There’s nothing there, so stop looking.” 

 

“You say that like you’re trying to convince yourself it’s true. Besides, if there’s really no remnant of a person left, then why are you crying?” Her voice softened slightly, reaching out to wipe a tear that Neptune hadn’t realized had fell.”If you’re really broken beyond repair, then why does it hurt to admit it?” Nyx gently caressed Neptune’s cheek, gazing into their eyes. “You’re more than your mistakes, Neptune.” 

 

“You don’t know my mistakes.” They whisper softly, reluctantly leaning into Nyx’s touch. “I’ve-” 

“Neptune, you can’t blame yourself for that forever. You did everything you were supposed to.” Nyx cuts them off, hugging them tightly. “It’s not your fault.” 

 

Neptune leans into the hug, fingers clutching the fabric of Nyx’s shirt, sobbing quietly into her shoulder. Nyx carefully steps into the room, closing the door behind her quietly. “It’s alright.” She whispers softly into Neptune’s hair, rubbing soft circles on their back. “You’re okay.” 

 

“You won’t leave..?” Neptune whispers hopefully into Nyx’s shirt, looking up at her slightly.

 

“Of course not.” She promises, cupping Neptune’s face in her hands. She carefully observes their features, noting the dark circles under their eyes. “When was the last time you’ve slept?” Neptune’s only response is a shrug, nuzzling their head into Nyx’s shirt again. She chuckles softly, lifting Neptune in her arms and carefully sitting down on the couch. “Get some rest.” She smiles, watching Neptune drift off peacefully in her arms. 

 

Neptune opens their eyes, sitting up and looking around. Their surroundings were different now. A much nicer apartment, clean and organized. The walls were a pristine white, no longer stained yellow with years of cigarette smoke and cat urine from previous tenants. The moonlight illuminates the floorboards, scrubbed clean without a speck of dirt in sight.

“Nyx..?” Neptune mutters sleepily, sitting up fully. The sound echoes off the walls, the only response being silence. The eerie type of quiet when there’s supposed to be an answer. Of course there wasn’t an answer? Why would there be? Nyx was dead, and had been for the 

last seven years. 

 

Neptune picked their phone up from the side table, scrolling through their recent messages, searching for Nyx’s contact. They clicked on the icon, and scrolled until they found Nyx’s last text message. 

 

“I love you.” The last words she had ever said to them. The last words she had ever said, until she ran out of breath. Out of time. Neptune’s frantic messages followed, memories of calls to 911, empty fearful threats, desperate pleading paragraphs begging Nyx not to go through with it. The call was four minutes too late,four choking,desperate minutes too late. 

 

What came next could only be described as nightmarish. You know that feeling when the words are burning in your throat, the tears stinging behind your eyes, your heart throbbing so painfully that it genuinely seems it might break into pieces and never be the same, but nothing comes out? Just painful, choking, desperate breaths, as if you could never get enough air in your lungs ever again. Shaking, trembling hands, that could only hand limply at your sides because after all is said and done, four minutes is too late.

 

Neptune sighed, setting down their phone and blinking back tears. There was no point in crying about it now. They stand up, stretching and looking around their apartment. They moved to sit down at their desk, picking up a tattered notebook from a stack nearby. Journaling had become a newfound habit of theirs, something about filling up notebooks upon notebooks of pencil scrawl, sketches and photographs just felt right. They carefully leafed through the journal, settling on a blank page. 

 

“10/24/2015, Had another dream about Nyx.” They write carefully, the graphite on the pencil scratching against the paper. “I would ask myself if it means something, but once you get stuck down that rabbit hole of deciphering meaning in dreams, things tend to get real strange.” They sigh, setting down the pencil and closing the notebook.

Notes:

idk I might write more of this idek man