Collided Souls

C A N E

I stepped back from Imogen, shaking my head. She whimpered at the loss of my touch. This can't be happening. Christian didn't escape. We're not separating. I have to be dreaming. 

"Cane," Imogen reached for me. "Cane, listen to me." 

I kept shaking my head. "No. No."

"Cane, please..." She cupped my face. "This won't work if Christian is free and on the loose." 

"I'm not letting him ruin what we have," I whispered, my voice cracking as I stared at the only girl I've ever loved. 

Imogen sniffled, her pain just as deep as mine. We stood close, breathing each other in. Once I believed I'd never fall in love. Then I did. Once I was alone. Then I wasn't. 

This can't be how it ends. 

"Cane, I don't want him to ruin this either, but he'll—" 

"Kill me?" I cut her off, heat in my voice. "You think I care if I risk my life for you?" 

I pulled away again, hating the cold that followed. Something unfamiliar clawed at my chest the longer we spoke. 

My heart felt shredded. Every word from her lips tore deeper. 

Unless we run—start over—I'll do it. I'll run for us. 

"Cane, you're not thinking clearly," she said, tears drying, replaced by something sharper. "This isn't a joke." 

"You think I'm joking? That I didn't mean what I said?" 

"What? No!" Imogen stepped forward. "I know you meant it. But Christian's not just a crazy ex. He's insane, Cane. He'll do anything to get me back, and I can't lose the only man I've started to love."  Her chest rose and fell in uneven waves. Sadness filled her eyes, but so did fear. 

And I wasn't helping. 

Silence dropped heavier than before. 

Love. 

She sniffled again. "I want you, Cane. I want us. I want to walk outside with you, hand in hand, not afraid. I want the world to know who I belong to." 

Still, silence. 

I couldn't believe this was happening. 

"So that's it?" I snapped. "Breaking up is the answer?" 

"I'm sorry..." she said softly. "And doing this is what's best." 

I'll always be lucky to have loved this girl. I'll always love her—knowing what we had could've been more. Even if I hate the world, I could never hate her. Not anymore. When I look at her, I see a future. 

A future for us.

I rubbed my hands over my face, and stepped forward. She stared up at me. Tears welled again in her eyes, glazing them over. I cupped the back of her neck with one hand, the other resting gently at her hip. 

"You love me?" I whispered. 

"You love me?" she rasped back. 

We didn't say what we wanted to. Instead, we kissed. 

The world around us shattered. Our little bubble—cracked and breaking. 

Imogen gripped my shirt, needing one last touch. I pulled her in, aching to remember her warmth. 

People say a lot about love—whether they want it or not. But this? This love hurts to walk away from. 

We pulled apart. 

Apart from the kiss.

Apart from us. 

Imogen wiped her eyes, forcing a weak laugh. "I'm a bad influence on you." 

"That you are," I said, voice low. 

"We'll get there someday." She played with the edge of her sleeve, eyes low. 

Maybe. 

I gently lifted her chin. "Someday." 

But life had its way of breaking things just as they started to grow. Of slamming reality into the places where hope dared to bloom. 

She stepped back. Walked to the door. And left. 

Something in me ripped—shredded into pieces. 

Loneliness. 

We meet again. 

This time, heartbroken.

A/N

*Tears* 💌

(Everybody hates Christian, right? Right.)