Cross Your Heart (Tadashi x Reader)

Chapter Seventeen: Haunting

You're sitting on your couch, your eyes on the TV screen. Everything feels completely normal for once.

"What are you watching?" That familiar voice surrounds you in a loving and beautiful aura.

"Some dumb movie, I guess," you reply calmly.

"Why don't you change the channel?" he offers sweetly.

You turn your head to look at him. He's lounging on the other side of your sofa. His hat is back on his head, covering that thick raven hair that you love so much. His brown eyes are huge and dazzling as they stare at you. And his lips. His lips are pulled up at the corner, forming that breathtaking smile that would show every time you walked into the room, every time you kissed him, every time you laughed with him and Hiro. "Why are you here?"

"What do you mean?" he asks, his smile never faulting.

"You're dead," you state slowly. "I watched you walk into that building." He smiles and shakes his head at you. "Don't pretend that it didn't happen. It did. I'm not crazy."

"You are crazy, actually," Tadashi says. He laughs.

You look down at your lap."Okay, well, if you're going to sit here with me, at least tell me that I'm right. You're dead, aren't you? Actually, no. Don't answer that yet. Answer this: do you still love me?" No answer. When you lift your head and look beside you, he's gone. The TV is off and the lights are out. The room is slightly grey, and everything feels incredibly eerie. "Tadashi?" You stand up and look around. "Tadashi?" Something catches your eye out the window. You watch as he runs away from the house. As you turn your head, you notice that the exact same scene is playing in each window and doorway. You sprint to the window and press your palms against the glass. You push forward and pray that the glass will break and you can stop him. "Tadashi! Tadashi, wait!" It's too late. Just as he takes his tenth step forward, the entire scenery before you explodes. You're thrown backwards as the window shatters.

"Tadashi!" you scream, sitting straight up on the couch. All of the blood rushes to your head quickly. You blink the flash of white away and look around. Your TV is still on. Your favorite lamp is still flickering every few seconds on the side table. You let out a deep breath to calm yourself. As you try to swallow, you realize that your throat is dry and aching. You get off of the couch and stagger to your small kitchen for as glass of ice water. As you stand there and drink, your phone lets out a loud ring. You jump and struggle to steady your heartbeat as you pick up your cell.

You hold it up to you ear and shut your eyes, "Hello?"

"___," the comforting voice of your mom says, "I was so worried! Didn't you get my calls?"

"Um, no," you reply, touching the back of your hand to your forehead, "I fell asleep."

"Oh, well that's okay. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," you lie. The nightmare comes back to your head to haunt you one last time. You shiver violently.

"That's good," she says gently, "Was the funeral. . .?"

"It was today," you say in a small voice.

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay," you lie again.

"Have you been eating and drinking?"

"I had toast for breakfast and coffee after the funeral," you answer truthfully, "And I'm about to make something for dinner."

"I just want you to stay healthy, baby," she says, "I know how much he meant to you-"

"Mom," you snap, "Can we please not talk about him right now?"

"I'm sorry. I was just talking to your dad and we both agreed on something." You pause and wait patiently. "We want you to come home."

Your stomach sinks to the floor. "What?" you breathe. Your parents moved halfway across the United States after you graduated. You stayed because of SFIT and Tadashi.

"Think about it. You didn't get into the school, ___. You're barely eighteen-"

"I-I can't go! I-"

"___," she says calmly, "he's not coming back."

She's right. He's not coming back. "I-I know, Mom. I'll think about it, okay? I'm going to take a shower right now. I'll call you soon."

"Okay, baby," she answers with a sigh, "Don't wait too long to call, and really think about what I said, alright? We're really worried about you."

"I'm okay, Mom, really. I love you."

"Love you, too," she says. You quickly hang up the phone and collapse on the couch. With a deep groan, you turn over on your side, pull the cardigan up and over your head, and shut your eyes. Once the world is blocked out, you let a few tears fall.