Hazel

In another world Hazel was dead.

Arin knew because he threw up at her funeral. All over his shoes. The casket. The pretty flowers he used to grow for her. All of it covered in vomit like some last desecration of her beauty. Hazel should have been one of those untouchable things, a crystal figurine put up on the highest shelf and locked behind closed doors to avoid breaking.

A dull look of self-hatred dimmed the brown of his eyes.

He knew she was precious and still he tossed her around like a toy.

Careless.

But here, she was alive. Sleeping in on a Monday, like she always used to do.

Arin though, he was different. This version of himself left on time for work. He made his half of the bed. Picked up his socks. This version of himself had never gone out to get the tofu he forgot to buy the first time around. So, Hazel lived.

What a stupid decision, he thought as he rounded her side of the bed and squatted down next to her. Tofu. It was just a quick grocery run, there and back in ten minutes, but it was long enough for her psychotic sister to stop by and slit her throat. Because of tofu. Fucking tofu.

He would have huffed but he didn't want to disturb the stillness. He didn't want to disturb her.

This was a genie-in-a-bottle wish. A lucky shot that he couldn't quite figure out. He'd gone to bed, too drunk and too high to think he would wake up again, and somehow ended up here.

With Hazel sleeping in on a Monday.

Everything was relatively the same. He'd snuck through the house and checked the calendars. Slipped on the spare pair of shoes he always kept by the door. Same size. The toothpaste in the bathroom was even the same.

It was a perfect place of parallel.

Except for the glaring places that it wasn't. It looked like they'd gotten around to painting their bathroom that peach color Hazel loved. And fixed that sink. There were notably less cobwebs and no heaps of dishes or dirty clothes. The place still smelled like the candles she liked to light. It still smelled like her, a mix of fresh laundry, mango shampoo, and something uniquely hers that drove him mad.

Arin kneeled silently down on the floor.

His gaze hung on her heavily.

Just watching.

He knelt there for a long time, until the carpet pressed patterns into his knees through his sweats.

If he'd done this with her in his world she would have called him a creep. But he would risk that now. He would risk his life just to watch her sleep a little longer.

It was nothing like the version of her he last saw. She was bright and vibrant, even in her sleep, with a healthy rose touching her cheeks. Were her eyelashes always so long? Maybe the serum she'd just started had the time to kick in.

Arin stood suddenly, staggering backwards as saliva pooled in his mouth.

Without making a sound, he hustled to the bathroom on the far side of the apartment and threw up nothing more than bile.

Bowing over the sink, he rinsed his mouth with cool water and brushed his tears away on the shoulder of his shirt. His Hazel deserved long eyelashes too. She deserved to try that new retinol cream. Deserved to get old and ugly and wrinkly. She deserved to walk down the aisle in a dress that cost too much, if that's what she wanted.

He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, willing his tears to stop.

"C'mon. C'mon," he whispered to himself.

Hazel could not see him like this. If she woke up and saw him crying in the spare bathroom... Arin sucked in a crooked breath, whimpering as he tried to avoid a loud sob. If she saw him crying, she'd ask. And if she asked, he'd tell.

There was nothing more that he wanted than her arms around him.

She was strong where he was weak, soft where he was sharp. They melded together so perfectly he'd long forgotten what life alone was like. Until she was gone. Now everything was hollow. Wrong. Broken. He was a jigsaw puzzle with half its pieces missing.

Arin splashed cool water on his face and shook his head.

There was no saying where he was or how this would end. Spending it crying in a bathroom was not an option. Whether this was his new home, just a dream, or some strange parallel reality, he intended on spending every minute with Hazel even if she wasn't awake.

This was a gift.

Drying his face on a scruffy blue towel, he headed toward the bedroom, crossing the kitchen as he went.

He stopped at the counter, frowning at a small green sticky note.

Coming home early tonight. Don't forget...chess and cheese! Can't wait. Love you :)

- Air

She deserved better, he thought dismally. She deserved someone who played chess better and cared about her date nights at home. He did it to keep her happy. And now he'd never get to do it again. He'd never get to show her how much he liked those nights. They'd become jewels in his memory.

Hazel deserved someone who remembered the tofu.

He crumpled the note and pressed it against his forehead. She deserved this version of him. The one who left notes for her on the kitchen counter.

This version of him had kept her safe. If he'd held himself together a little more like this Arin...

His fist clenched until something popped as a horrific realization tore through his chest. Hazel was better off with a different version of him. But it wasn't him. He'd lost his chance.

"What're you doing?"

Arin spun, knowing the sound of that voice anywhere.

"Hazel."

There she stood, nightshirt hanging down to her mid-thighs and long hair loose around her shoulders. She was so pretty like this. He'd never quite noticed. How had he never noticed?

"You're supposed to be at work," she said, looking toward a chicken clock on the wall.

"I... Yeah. I just... I guess I don't feel very good," he said hoarsely, brown eyes scraping down her body. It was like seeing a ghost. "I called in sick."

A sad look fluttered across her face and the tiny frown that meant she was upset knit her thin brows together. And she was upset. For him. For the man who ran out to get tofu and got her killed.

Arin couldn't stand it.

"No, don't...don't look at me like that," he said softly, breaching every internal promise he'd made when he arrived as he stepped forward and touched her cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay."

He hesitated for a minute and then pulled her into a hug. Resting his cheek against the top of his head, he stared at their reflection in a mirror across the room until it burned into his memory. If this was a dream, he didn't want to forget. If it was goodbye, he wanted to say it properly.

Hazel kissed his chest, warm lips pressing right over his heart before pulling back and smiling up at him. Her eyes were bright and green and full of love. He never wanted to forget this.

"You know I hate when you're hurting," she said.

He barely found the strength to nod, his lower lip already wobbling. Of course, he knew that. And of course she could tell he was hurting. He cupped her cheek now, wincing as the grief clenched around his heart. Arin was hurting. Worse than he ever had in his entire life.

"You really look awful Air-bear. C'mon. Come back to bed for a bit."

She tugged on his arm.

Arin followed, helpless to refuse.

He watched in complete silence as she crawled into the bed and tossed back the sheets. It was so mundane. How many times had he watched her do just that and think nothing of it? Too many.

Tossing his shirt to the floor, he laid down on the bed and pulled Hazel against his chest.

"You know I love you," Arin said softly, stroking a hand through her fine hair.

"Course I know."

"No," he said more seriously. "You're my world, Hazel. My whole world. I love you so much. I've never deserved you, but I've been so lucky to have you. Four years. Fuck." He pulled her closer, burying his face in the back of her neck. "It's paradise. This has to be paradise."

"Arin... Jeeze, I love you too. You know that. You're gonna make me blush."

"Good," he murmured into her hair, pulling her even closer.

She kissed his forearm and sighed heavily. Arin followed suit, breathing in her scent and settling into the bed.

"Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me, Arin." His lip curled into a frown. "I'm glad I met you every minute of every day."

He nodded, saying nothing as several silent tears slid down his cheeks into the pillowcase below him. Grief tainted the air. He knew this was not his. This life, this love belonged to a different version of himself and the pain of knowing that had he made one decision different he would still have his lovely butterfly at his side...it was excruciating.

"Hazel..." he said, his voice wobbling.

She flipped over touched his jaw. The green eyes bounced around his face, clearly taking in the stress and the tears but she said nothing. Instead, she pressed her lips to his and kissed him deeply.

"It's okay, baby." Another press of her lips to his. "You'll feel better when you wake up."

The words ripped through him.

Cradling her to his chest, Arin clenched his eyes shut.

"Yeah," he said, lying to her for the first time. "Yeah, let's just...rest."

Hazel was already halfway asleep; he could tell by the loosening tension in the body between his arms. She was always quick to fall asleep caged in his arms.

"Hazel. Hazel," he whispered insistently.

"Mm?"

"You've got my soul." He kissed the top of her head. "My heart." Pressed his forehead to hers. "Everything that I am, belongs to you."

Hazel hummed happily against his chest and nuzzled deeper.

Bit by bit, the fatigue settled in. His eyelids drooped. Heavy weights tugged on his limbs, encouraging him to relax into the bed.

Arin fought the exhaustion. He fought the calm tugging him further and further away from this parallel place where his lover was alive and well. He clawed himself back to consciousness several times, more than once occupying himself with her lips. But the grief of the past six months had torn him apart and the fatigue clinging to his bones was relentless in its pursuit of him.

He fought a valiant fight but with Hazel in his arms, it was never a battle he'd win. Long before he wanted to, Arin fell asleep.

And when he opened his eyes, it was to an empty bed and a stack of clothes on the floor.

Hazel was gone.