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He watches her. He watches Spencer Hastings every single day because what else was there to do? The possibilities are endless. He can be anywhere, doing anything, but none of it would have any value him. Not without her.
That's the only thing that binds him here. She anchors him down, she was had chained him, long ago, to her heart. He can't stray for long, he will always end up coming back to her—finding her. Or maybe she finds him.
He doesn't mind that she doesn't notice him, she can't. Sometimes he wishes that maybe, she will feel him here. Inside her, maybe. That maybe that incredible love that they once had, and always will have, will sprout up inside her—alert her.
It hasn't happened yet. It probably never will, but he can't help but hope. Everyone thinks that being an optimist is better than being a pessimist, but they are terribly wrong. Hope is the mortal enemy of any soul. Some people can reject it—avoid it. But Toby is not one of those people. He does not posses that power that he so aimlessly wishes, and ironically hopes for.
It would be easier if he was a pessimist. He could move on. He could leave this all behind—her behind, and head to the brighter side of the spectrum. He could dispatch his hope that one day she would find him, like she did all those times, long ago.
Long ago. It was weird to think about how long it has been. It doesn't seem like much time has passed really, but at the same time, everyday feels like an eternity of longing despair.
Especially on the days where a frown is placed on her face. On those days, he wants to quit. He wants to wrap his arms around her, and tangle his hands into her hair. But he knows he can't. She is too far away for his touch. He is long gone and the next time she'll see him will be decades from now. Well, so he hopes and prays, anyways.
He misses her. Every single minute of every single day, but he would never wish for her to come here. She needs to live her life. She needs to grow old and carry bags around her beautiful copper eyes that he has fallen into so many times. Her tender auburn hair needs to take on the new hue of grey, and feel brittle at the touch. Her silky ivory skin needs to wrinkle and grow old with spots. She needs to live her life to the fullest and enjoy every single second of it, not spending any precious time grieving him.
He did not know how valuable life was. Not till it was too late. His life had shattered into microscopic pieces that had no chance of recovering. Although, it is not too late for her. She can still fulfill her dreams. She can still become everything she wants to be. She can find her happiness and sanctuary, and live on to do great things.
He needs her to do that.
It is all he cares about. He doesn't care about what he will be doing with all his eternity. He only cares about hers. Where she would head and how she would do it.
He knows he can't be with her forever. He knows he'll have to leave eventually. He can't be that creepy-stalker-ex-boyfriend. He too, has to move on.
The pain is too much to bear, really—seeing her everyday that is. It reminds him that they can't be together. They can't grow old together and bear children together. They'll never be married. They'll just be those star-crossed lovers that everyone will pity.
With every passing day, she becomes stronger. And that makes his heart generate heat that he so desperately craves. But part of him—the selfish part, worries that she'll forget him. That he'll just become a tragedy that clings to her for the rest of her life. Nothing more, nothing less. That she'll forget what the had. How real and raw it was.
Although, it is Spencer. She is a complete genius, and forgetting things isn't something she is known for.
With that, he knows that she knows what day it was.
It isn't just another Monday.
It isn't just another date on the calendar.
It holds something.
It means something.
He knows where today would lead her. He knows that she would not end the day without making her visit.
It is funny really. How she goes out of her way each year to pay a visit to him on this very day. If only she knew he made daily visits. He visited her every single day. Never marking an absence. She doesn't need to visit him. He is with her all time.
Although it always warmed his heart.
He looks forward to the day. It is like his birthday, or Christmas. He counts down the days. He begs for the other 364 days of the year to heighten their speed, so this day could resurrect. It is the only day that really mattered to him now. And it is because of her visit.
She used to come more often. But so much time has passed that he doesn't blame her for cutting down her visits.
The first year, she was there a lot. Almost every day. If she had gone a week without visiting it would shock the people around her. She made it a big part of her life. And it burned him. It made his heart swell to hear everything she told him. Every tear that descended from her lovely brown eyes made his heart shatter.
The next year, she made less frequent visits. She came about once a month, more during the holidays than anything.
The year after that, her visits almost stopped completely. She was trying to cease the pain. She didn't want to dig it up inside her. It had been three years of pure despair. She needed to move on. She needed it to stop hurting. She only visited him three times that year.
The years that followed were inconsistent. Some years, she make numerous visits. Some years she would only show up once. The past couple years have actually been like that. Each time she tells him that she'll promise to be back the next year. She won't forget him. Even if she could, she wouldn't want to.
He believes that.
That she'll come back.
She always does.
She keeps her promises.
She always has.
It is 7PM when she shows up. She is wearing a grey pea coat and a purple scarf, her hair is arranged into perfect curls and she looks as beautiful as ever. In her hand is a bouquet of white roses. She looks tired—sad. And it wasn't like he expected her to joyfully stroll in here. It is sort of a depressing place. Sobs occur on a daily basis. But the way she walks. The way she holds herself. He hasn't seen her like this in awhile when visiting him.
She is a little awkward at first, like she always is at the beginning of the meet. She doesn't do anything. She doesn't speak, or put the flowers down. She just stares.
Her copper eyes soon begin to gather with dew, and this is when she makes her move. She carefully sets the flowers down as she kneels down to talk.
"…Hi." She announces strangely.
Whenever she visits, he always talks back. He knows she cannot hear him, but it is the closest to a conversation he can have with her. It is the closest he feels with her throughout the whole entire year. This is the only time of the year where he feels the connection. Sure, he is with her every single day of the year, but this is the only time he really feels like he is with her.
"Hi" he greets back. It is always weird to hear his voice after such a long time of holding it inside.
"I know I haven't really been around this year…but I'm here now" she professes, her voice shallow and glum. "A lot has happened this year," she pipes up, her voice becoming more confident and preppy. "I'm an aunt! Jason has a daughter. Her name is Sandy. And I know you don't know Ashleigh, but she looks exactly like her. It's crazy. She has these bright green eyes, and these chubby cheeks, and she might just be the most adorable baby I have ever seen."
He already knew that though. He didn't doubt that he would know all the news she would tell him. He always did. But he didn't really care, just hearing her speak to him. Just hearing her vocal chords orchestrate sound for him, it was absolutely wonderful.
"But that isn't the biggest news of the year…I'm actually engaged," she doesn't say it with enthusiasm, like any other normal woman would do. She says it in a small, tiny, voice, hollow of any kind of emotion.
He already knew this too, but his heart can't help but sting a little at the words. Of course, he is happy for her. He wants her to move on. He wants her to find love—new love. He just wishes he could move on too.
"I've told you about him before… Connor O'Neal. Don't you think Spencer O'Neal sounds horrible? I think so too. I'm sticking with my own last name, even though it does tie me with that dysfunctional family of mine forever."
Toby can't help but smile. He remembers a time with Spencer, where she told him how well their names harmonized. Spencer Cavanaugh, Tobias Hastings, as she put it. Probably just to annoy him, considering she knew how much he hated it.
Maybe that was a hint.
She becomes quiet, so he takes the opportunity to talk.
"I'm happy for you, Spencer." His voice is shallow, and hoarse. And he can't say he is confused, or surprised by this. Not using your vocal chords for a year, will do that to you.
"Look, Toby. If you can hear me—if you know what is going on. I just want to say that this isn't me, forgetting about you."
Her gaze focuses on the engraving on the tomb stone. Tobias P. Cavanaugh. Son, Brother, and friend.
It always annoys him how "brother" is on there.
"You will always be in my heart," her voice cracks a little and it felt like a chain saw had dragged through his heart. "And I will forever love you" she goes on, a single tear riding slowly off her cheek. "I'm not replacing you, I could never replace you. I—Just" she looks away.
Toby wants so badly to speak back, for her to hear him in telling her that it is okay. But he knows it was no use. He knows his words would fall through her, forever unheard.
"I found someone who I love," she sort of shrugs, looking helpless. "Someone who loves me."
With that statement, he finally feels like he can somewhat let go. He isn't sure why. Maybe it is because he has always needed someone to fill the job that was taken away from him.
He knows surely enough that Spencer can take care of herself. She is strong, smart, independent, and ruthless. She doesn't need someone to tuck her in at night and play dream catcher.
But she is not invincible.
Like every human being, she has her breaking points. She has her days where she needs someone. Someone to hold her, and heal her with touch. Someone to sow her open wombs with caring words and promises to always love her.
And it looks like she has finally found someone to fill the job in his absence.
"I know that more years have passed by, then we have actually spent together, but I will never move on. I can't. I don't want to." Her voice returns. "I know my visits aren't consistent, I know I'm barely here, but you, you are always in my heart. Always on my mind… It's the little things you know? Like scrabble, and rocking chairs, and beige trucks. They bring back the memories. And as much as it hurts," her voice swells. "I'm glad."
"Because forgetting you…forgetting us. It would be way more painful than remembering. And I can't lie, that there are days that I hardly remember. We were so young, and it was such a long time ago. At that time, I didn't think I would have to keep those memories on lock down. I thought there would be more! And that—that is what sucks the most. You know? That there isn't more…because even if we only spent a couple of years together…those years, those years will always be my fondest memories, with you, Toby Cavanaugh."
"You'll forever be my fondest memory, Spencer. For all eternity."
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a/n: i'm sorry, but PLEASE tell me what you think? ~ I liked it, for some reason, but I DID NOT like all the grammar mistakes, sorry I suck :c
also, if you read Distastefully In Love, I sort of hit a writers block. I'm not sure what to write for the next chapter. SIGH x 10.
p.s. please leave a review please
please
please
with cherries on top
i promise to not to hurt your hearts again
no i don't
but leave a review, eh?