Chapter Text
Columbina lay sprawled across her messy, unmade bed, the quiet of her dorm room feeling almost too loud after a long day of classes.
“Ugh… today was exhausting,” she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.
She rolled onto her stomach and reached for her phone, letting the familiar glow of the screen light up her small room. Out of habit, a habit she had never quite managed to break, she opened Instagram and typed in Sandrone’s name.
Sandrone had left for college almost four years ago. She had chosen a university in France, one known for its engineering program, a place where she could chase the passion she had always carried so close to her.
Columbina remembered pretending to be excited when she told her.
She remembered smiling, telling Sandrone that she deserved it. That she was proud of her. That she was happy for her.
And she was.
But there was a part of her that had been terrified.
Terrified of waking up one day and realizing Sandrone had become someone she only knew through old memories. Terrified that asking her to stay would turn into a weight Sandrone had to carry. So Columbina swallowed every selfish thought and let her go.
Now, four years later, they were both in their final year of college.
Columbina scrolled through Sandrone’s page, searching for something familiar. A photo. A post. Anything that reminded her that Sandrone was still somewhere close, even if only through a screen.
But instead, the page wouldn’t load.
Sandrone’s account was gone.
Deactivated.
Columbina stared at the empty space where her name used to be.
“What the…”
She closed the app and reopened it, hoping, almost desperately, that it was just some stupid glitch.
But it wasn’t.
Her fingers hovered over Sandrone’s contact for a moment.
She thought about texting her.
She wanted to.
But the truth was painful, they hadn’t had a real conversation in almost a year.
Not a real one.
Not the kind where Sandrone would ramble about some new project she was working on. Not the kind where Columbina could hear the small changes in her voice and know exactly how she was feeling without her saying anything.
She sighed quietly and placed her phone on the nightstand.
Then she turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling as memories she had tried not to revisit came rushing back.
Sandrone.
Always Sandrone.
She remembered their first sleepover. Their sophomore year of high school. The first time Sandrone had ever let anyone into her room.
Columbina remembered waking up before her, lying there in the early morning light, and turning her head just to look at her.
Sandrone looked different when she slept.
Softer.
Like all the walls she built around herself had disappeared for a few precious moments.
Columbina watched her quietly, afraid that moving even slightly would break the moment.
Then Sandrone’s eyelashes began to flutter.
A small sign that she was waking up.
Her nose scrunched slightly as the sunlight slipped across her face, and slowly, her eyes opened.
For a second, Sandrone looked completely unguarded.
And Columbina remembered thinking, with a strange ache in her chest, that she wished she could keep that version of her forever.
Sandrone slowly sat up, rubbing at her eyes gently.
Maybe it was because she’d only just woken up, but Sandrone looked unbearably beautiful. Not the polished kind of beauty people captured in magazines and forgot about a page later, but the kind that settled deep into your chest and stayed there, the kind you could spend a lifetime looking at and still ache for more.
The sunlight tangled itself throughout her hair, spilling gold through those loose, messy strands draped over her shoulders as if even the morning couldn’t resist touching her gently. Her expression was soft, unguarded, still warm with sleep in a way she never let anyone else see. That look belonged only to Columbina. Only she was trusted with the quiet vulnerability in Sandrone’s eyes, with the small exhale of peace on her lips, with the version of her that felt almost heartbreakingly soft.
"Morning.." Sandrone said, a small smile, a genuine one, tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Goodmorning, Sandrone." Columbina said, returning the smile.
Columbina pressed her thumbs against her temples, slowly rubbing circles as if she could somehow ease the ache building inside her.
“Damn it… damn it,” she whispered, frustrated with herself.
She felt pathetic.
It had been four years.
Four years of meeting new people. Four years of trying new things. Four years of growing into someone different from the girl who watched Sandrone leave.
And somehow, through all that time, she still couldn’t let go.
No matter how far she went or how much she changed, Sandrone always found her way back into Columbina’s thoughts.
It happened in the smallest moments.
When she sat at a café with friends and noticed an empty seat beside her, she wondered what Sandrone would have ordered. When she watched some cheesy romance movie alone, she caught herself imagining Sandrone sitting next to her, making some quiet comment about how unrealistic it was.
She wondered what Sandrone was doing.
If she was happy.
If she ever thought about her too.
Columbina found herself imagining who Sandrone had become.
Was she still the same person who stayed up late working on projects until she forgot to sleep? Was she still the kind of person who refused to give up until she got things right?
She probably was.
Sandrone had always been like that.
Driven. Brilliant. Impossible to stop once she set her mind to something.
Columbina wondered if she had made friends in France. She hoped she had.
Sandrone had always been difficult to reach, she carried herself like she didn’t need anyone, she had built walls so high that no one could ever get close enough to hurt her.
But Columbina had seen what was behind them.
She hoped someone else had too.
She hoped there was someone who noticed the softer parts of Sandrone. Someone who saw the person underneath all that distance.
But there was one thought Columbina tried not to linger on.
One that made her chest tighten every time it crossed her mind.
What if Sandrone had found someone else?
What if someone else had gotten to experience the things Columbina spent years missing?
It wasn’t impossible.
They were never officially anything. They never had a label to hold onto, nothing that could prove Columbina had ever been more than just a friend.
But there had been moments.
The way Sandrone’s touches always lingered a second too long. The way her eyes would soften only around Columbina. The way she let her guard down in a way she never did with anyone else.
Columbina had always believed there was something there.
Something neither of them ever said out loud.
And that was the part that hurt the most.
She never told Sandrone.
She never told her how much she meant to her. How much she wanted her to stay. How every goodbye felt heavier than she showed.
She just smiled and watched her leave.
And four years later, she was still wondering if Sandrone ever looked back.
Columbina let out a quiet groan and pulled the blanket over herself, trying to hide from the thoughts that refused to leave her alone.
She needed to sleep. If she stayed awake any longer, she’d be exhausted for her morning classes.
But every so often, nights like this happened.
Nights where the silence reminded her too much of Sandrone.
Nights where she missed her a little more than she wanted to admit.
Columbina closed her eyes, letting herself wonder for just a moment.
She wondered if Sandrone was sleeping too. If she was looking at the same sky. If, by some small chance, she ever thought about her.
She knew she couldn’t keep holding onto a memory forever.
But a part of her still hoped.
Hoped that somehow, someday, she would get to see Sandrone again.
Even if it was only in a dream.
-----------
Columbina awoke to sunlight spilling across her face. She groaned softly and reached for her phone. Once again, she had woken before any of her alarms. With a tired yawn, she sat up and rubbed the lingering sleep from her eyes.
She slipped out of bed and wandered into the bathroom. The girl staring back at her hardly looked rested. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, her hair sat in a careless bun, and her skin seemed paler than usual.
Stress.
That was always the answer she gave herself.
"It's just because I'm stressed."
It was easier than admitting that for the last four years, something had felt missing. Every day blurred into the next, as though she were moving through a script she hadn't written. Wake up. Attend classes. Study. Sleep. Repeat. She kept waiting for something to change, for something to matter enough to shake her from the numb routine, but nothing ever did.
As she got ready, she mentally sorted through everything she needed to accomplish that day.
Her first class started at eight. After that, she had several hours before her evening lecture. She would probably go shopping. Her dorm's kitchen shelves were nearly empty, and surviving on instant noodles for another week sounded miserable.
Once her morning routine was finished, she packed her bag and headed toward the main campus.
As she locked her dorm room behind her, the neighboring door opened. Arlecchino stepped out at almost the exact same moment.
"Good morning," Arlecchino said, offering a small smile.
"Morning..." Columbina replied, avoiding eye contact.
Arlecchino studied her for a moment. "You look rough. Couldn't sleep?"
"I guess you could say that." Columbina adjusted the strap of her bag. "I've just been... preoccupied. Mentally." She hesitated before adding, "But I'm alright. I will be."
Arlecchino sighed, though her smile remained. "Okay then. I've got classes, so I'll see you around."
"Yeah. Same here."
As Arlecchino walked away, Columbina watched her for a second longer than necessary.
She had never really grown close to anyone during her years at college. She always kept people at arm's length, not because she disliked them, but because she never knew how to bridge the distance. People invited her out. They tried to include her. Yet she rarely reached back.
Part of her knew it was selfish.
Another part wondered if she was simply waiting for someone, or something, that could make her want to.
Until then, she remained suspended in that comfortable loneliness, quietly yearning for a feeling she couldn't quite name.
As Columbina walked to her morning class, she found herself slowing down without meaning to.
She always loved the scenery around campus.
The tall trees that lined the paths, the flowers that bloomed despite the changing seasons, the tiny birds hopping between branches and the squirrels that wandered around without a care in the world. Everything felt peaceful in a way that almost seemed impossible.
For a moment, Columbina felt like she could breathe.
Like the world had finally gone quiet enough for her thoughts to settle.
She smiled faintly to herself as she looked down at the path beneath her feet, then pulled out her headphones as she entered her building.
The calm disappeared immediately.
She was met with the usual chaos of college life. Students rushing to their classes, conversations echoing through the halls, groups of people laughing together as if it wasn’t 7:45 in the morning.
Boys yelling across the hallway. Girls laughing and teasing them. Friends meeting up and talking about plans Columbina wasn’t a part of.
She hated it.
Not because she hated them.
She didn’t.
She just hated the strange feeling of being surrounded by hundreds of people and somehow feeling completely alone.
A place that was supposed to feel like a community somehow always reminded her of the one person who wasn’t there.
Sandrone.
Columbina pushed the thought away and continued toward her lecture hall.
The room was already beginning to fill when she arrived, but thankfully, her usual seat was still empty.
Top right corner. All the way in the back.
A place where she could disappear.
A place where she could let her mind wander without anyone noticing. A place where, if the lecture became too boring, she could close her eyes for a few minutes and pretend she was somewhere else.
She sat down and placed her bag beside her before pulling out her phone.
No new messages.
She stared at the screen for a little longer than she should have, almost expecting something to appear.
A message.
A notification.
Anything.
But there was nothing.
Columbina sighed softly, turned her phone on silent, and put it away.
After about ten minutes, the professor walked in and began the lecture.
She forced herself to focus.
She really tried.
And for the first hour, she managed.
She took notes. She listened. She ignored the thoughts that kept trying to pull her away.
But eventually, they always returned.
The memory of Sandrone’s account disappearing.
Her small connection to Sandrone’s life had vanished so suddenly.
The tiny window she had into the person she missed most was gone.
Just like that.
Just like Sandrone had left four years ago.
Columbina wondered if Sandrone even realized what that account meant to her. If she knew how often Columbina checked it. How many times she had looked through old pictures just to feel close to her again.
Would Sandrone care?
Would she even understand why it hurt?
The thought lingered until the lecture finally ended.
Columbina packed her things faster than usual, leaving the room almost immediately.
Outside, she took a deep breath.
The fresh air helped.
A little.
She stood there for a moment, letting herself calm down.
She knew she should reach out.
She wanted to.
But how?
What was she supposed to say after almost a year of silence?
“Hey, I noticed you disappeared from social media and I’ve been thinking about you every day for the past four years?”
Absolutely not.
She shook her head at herself.
A simple “how have you been?” would make more sense.
But it felt too ordinary.
Too small.
Like it couldn’t possibly hold everything she had left unsaid.
Columbina sighed and decided to distract herself.
She made her way to the small market near her dorm. She needed actual food.
Not instant noodles.
Not cheap snacks.
Something real.
Thankfully, since it was Monday, the store was almost empty.
Columbina preferred it that way.
She didn’t like crowded places. Too many people, too much noise, too many reminders that everyone else seemed to have someone.
She grabbed some vegetables first, settling on potatoes and carrots.
Then she moved toward the meat section.
She stared at the options.
Steak. Pork chops. Chicken.
She wasn’t exactly confident in her cooking skills, but she figured she could manage something simple.
She picked a small steak.
Maybe she could learn.
Maybe she could start doing things for herself instead of just waiting for someone who might never come back.
Then she went to the snack aisle.
Almost immediately, she felt calmer.
The familiar sweetness in the air made her smile.
Columbina loved sweets.
She picked out some chocolate pastries and fruit candies before telling herself she was done.
But then she spotted her favorite juice.
A six pack.
On sale.
She hesitated for exactly two seconds before placing it into her cart.
When she reached the register, she began placing everything onto the belt.
“Do you have a membership card?” the employee asked.
“Yes.”
She pulled out her wallet and handed it over.
The employee scanned it before looking up.
“You’re Columbina, right?”
She blinked.
“Uh… yes? Do I know you?”
The man smiled slightly.
“Scaramouche. We went to high school together. I’m pretty sure we go to the same college too.”
“Oh.”
Columbina searched her memories.
High school felt so far away.
A lot of faces had blurred together over the years.
Except one.
Sandrone.
“It’s okay if you don’t remember,” he said. “It was a long time ago.”
He handed her the receipt, then hesitated.
“If you’re free, do you want to get drinks sometime? This weekend?”
Columbina opened her mouth to refuse.
She should.
She barely knew him.
And besides…
A part of her still felt like she needed to stay away from everyone.
But maybe that was the problem.
Maybe she had spent so long holding onto someone who wasn’t there that she forgot she was allowed to live.
“Sure,” she said quietly.
Scaramouche smiled and wrote his number on a small piece of paper.
“I’ll text you the details.”
Columbina thanked him and took her bags.
The walk back to her dorm immediately reminded her that maybe buying everything at once wasn’t the smartest decision.
Her arms ached by the time she reached the entrance.
Still, she managed to get into the elevator and press the button for the third floor.
She leaned against the wall, reaching into her bag for her keys.
When the doors opened, she froze.
Arlecchino stood there with a group of friends.
“Oh, hey Columbina!”
“Hey,” she replied softly, trying to move past them.
One of Arlecchino’s friends entered the elevator, but before Columbina could leave, Arlecchino gently touched her shoulder.
Columbina turned.
“Yeah?”
“There was a girl outside your dorm,” Arlecchino said. “She was sleeping. I didn’t know if you knew, so I thought I should tell you.”
Columbina frowned.
“Oh. Thanks.”
She continued walking, already thinking about the possibility of another drunk stranger passed out near her room.
She had dealt with that before.
She really didn’t want to do it again.
But when she turned the corner, she stopped.
Her hands tightened around the bags.
Because sitting outside her door wasn’t a stranger.
It was someone she would recognize anywhere.
Beige hair spilling from beneath a hoodie.
A familiar face.
A face that had stayed in her mind for four years.
A face she had convinced herself she might never see again.
Columbina couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
“...Sandrone?”