and from his lips she drew the hallelujah

"It's so weird thinking about that night," Ryan says quietly, voice echoing through the empty walls and floors of the model home. Oh, if this house could talk, the stories it would tell—stories of maybe I could stay the night and we're from different worlds, I'm not like you—their stories. "Last time we were here, I was leaving and now, you are."

Marissa looks around the empty home; it's all shiny floors and tall pillars and vaulted ceilings. In this house, she hears echoes of who they used to be and she misses them, those two teenagers that could live on the hope of someday.

"That night, did you ever think we'd end up together?"

Suddenly, he's sixteen years old and on the run again. He's lonely and dare he admit it, scared—but she's looking at him and smiling that smile and somehow he just knows, in his heart of hearts, that as lonely as he may be, he'll never have to be alone again.

"You never know."

"I'm sorry for all the craziness."

"I wouldn't have done it any differently," he replies before adding with a grin, "Except maybe Oliver."

There are tears in her eyes but she laughs anyway and he finds himself laughing with her and as they laugh, he thinks about what lies behind them—too many broken promises, more lies than truths, less smiles than there ever were tears and a love bigger than either of them ever knew what to do with.

And then he thinks about what lies ahead of them—a crowded airport with people saying hello and goodbye, rolling Chanel suitcases, boarding passes, security checkpoints and him watching from the window as her plane leaves the runway before taking flight, taking the only love he's ever really known right along with it.

Laughing with her now is all he can do to keep himself from locking them both in this model home, if only to keep her with him for just a little while longer.

But this is what she wants and the selfless part of him wants this for her too so he wraps an arm around her shoulder and presses his lips to her temple in a loving kiss to whisper, "I love you."

"God, I love you too."

...

"Please, don't go. Stay with me."

Every instinct in his body is telling him to go; run and get help, scream at the top of his lungs for somebody—anybody, to just help her - save her from this. But she's looking up at him with those blue eyes, eyes that are darker and glassier than he's ever seen them before, and she's begging him to stay with her, and Ryan has never really been able to deny her of anything so he does what she asks.

He would literally give anything in the world to save her.

He always saves her - but he can't save her from this, and looking at how bruised and broken her body is, he isn't sure that anyone can.

Water droplets are falling on her face and he looks up at the sky, eyes squinted in search for rain but it's a clear California night, not a rain cloud in sight. Looking back down at her still face, more water falls and he realizes that he's crying.

He holds her in his arms until her hand that was fisted in his shirt goes limp, stays until her eyes - eyes that have seen so much sadness and pain, flutter closed, stays until her very last breath falls from her lips to meets the warm night air, forever lost to the world.

...

Somehow, he finds a tiny semblance of peace at the lifeguard stand.

Sometimes he's by himself, sometimes with a bottle of vodka and a pack of cigarettes. With each drag, her voice comes back to him, all wondering smiles and curious eyes as she asks to bum a cigarette and then who are you? and whoever you want me to be.

He sits against the wall and watches with a heavy heart as the waves crash against one another before coming together to kiss the shore, only to pull away and do it all over again.

He sees a lot of them in those waves - Ryan and Marissa, all indecisiveness and determination and forces of nature and gravity, pulling you together only to push you away just when you think this is it.

That was the beginning of everything.

Ryan didn't know it at the time, but it was also the end.