Chapter Text
Poppy smiled, once again getting lost in that pair of sapphire eyes. He stepped closer, but before their lips could meet, Branch cupped his face in her hands, her gaze tracing every detail of his expression.
“Can we pretend,” she whispered, “that maybe this kiss won’t be the last?”
Poppy nodded, finally closing the distance between them. Branch’s lips were warm, trembling, yet they fit perfectly against his. The first touch was featherlight, a tender brush, more a sigh than a kiss. But soon, unspoken longing, aching love, and the ache of impending farewell seeped into it, deepening the moment into something fierce and unforgettable.
Branch's hands slipped from his cheeks to his neck, as if trying to anchor herself in time. Poppy held her tightly, arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her as close as he could, as though he might become one with her if he just held on hard enough.
The waves in the distance seemed to echo their rhythm—gentle at first, then urgent. Poppy’s fingers slid down her back, and a shiver ran through her at his touch. He gripped the edge of her jacket, hearts pounding in unison, desperate to make the moment last. Branch sighed softly against his lips, and that sound alone made him deepen the kiss—tilting his head, memorizing her, imprinting her.
It was a kiss soaked in everything they felt and everything they feared: love, longing, desperation… and the quiet vow that, no matter what came next, they would never forget.
When they finally parted, breathless, Poppy rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“If I could freeze one moment in my life… it would be this one,” he murmured with a trembling smile.
Branch let out a quiet laugh, her eyes glistening with both joy and sorrow. “Then don’t forget it.”
“Never.”
Silence fell between them, but it was full—of meaning, of memory.
“You know...” Poppy murmured, his voice barely louder than the breeze, “I can’t help but wonder what it would be like—if there were a world where you and I could be together. A world where we didn’t have to choose between each other and the lives we’re meant to return to.”
He tightened his embrace around Branch’s delicate frame, holding her as if she might dissolve into the night.
Branch didn’t answer right away. Her eyes were fixed on the waves lapping gently at the shore, where moonlight shimmered in silvery fragments—so beautiful, yet fleeting.
“If that world exists...” she finally whispered, her voice fraying at the edges, “it’s far away from here. Is one I'll have to miss... because it belongs to a life I wasn’t meant to live.” Her lashes fluttered shut, and a sigh slipped from her lips. “There’s a poem by a Mexican writer… ‘the loves that last forever are the briefest ones.’ And maybe it’s true. Maybe the ones we can’t keep are the ones that stay in our hearts and memories longest. But... it’s not wrong to dream, is it?”
Poppy said nothing. He only held her tighter, as if his arms could will that other world into existence—just for a few more seconds, just long enough.
Branch lowered her gaze, thoughts drifting to the home waiting for her. To the unspoken expectations, to the promise she made to be who they needed her to be. Her siblings had trusted her with freedom, and she’d spent it on something she couldn’t take back. She remembered Floyd’s warning—meant to protect her—and for the first time, she understood. The pain of leaving wasn’t just in the parting, but in knowing she could never come back to this moment. Still, Branch didn’t regret it. Not one second. When she returned, she would do what was expected. Branch would be the version of herself they could accept.
But not yet.
Now wasn’t the time for endings.
They remained there in silence, wrapped in each other and in the hush of the sea. Somewhere in the distance, the faint echo of laughter drifted from the party they’d left behind. The dawn would come, and with it, reality—but for as long as the night held them, they pretended the world was only them. And in the hush between the waves and the stars, pretending almost felt like enough.
Time slipped by unnoticed—lost in whispers, soft caresses, and conversations they would carry with them forever. Everything felt suspended, perfect, untouched by the outside world... until the shrill ring of a phone shattered the fragile stillness like glass. Branch tensed instantly, her body going rigid as reality crashed back in.
The spell was broken.
She glanced at the glowing screen, and before answering, looked up at Poppy with an expression that held both apology and resignation—like someone being pulled away from a dream they weren’t ready to leave.
“I’m sorry…” she murmured, exhaling a breath that trembled at the end, then accepted the call.
Poppy didn’t speak. He couldn’t. The lump in his throat was too thick, too heavy. But he knew. The end was already here.
“Hello?” Branch’s voice came out steady, composed—but Poppy, who knew her better than anyone now, could hear the slight waver beneath it.
“Where are you?” Floyd’s voice crackled through the receiver, sharp with worry. “Ablaze and I have been looking everywhere for you! Do you even know what time it is? We need to head back to the hotel!”
Branch pulled the phone away to check the time, and her eyes widened. It was late—much later than she’d realized.
“I’m sorry. I lost track of time. I’ll be there soon,” she said quietly, then ended the call.
Branch didn’t move. Just stood there, phone still in hand, her silence louder than any goodbye. Poppy watched as her fingers tightened around the device, knuckles pale—as if, by holding it tightly enough, she could delay the moment just a little longer. As if the last scraps of freedom might stay with her a few seconds more.
“Do you have to go?” Poppy asked, though the answer lingered heavy in the silence between them.
Branch sighed softly, letting the phone slide from her hand onto her lap. When she looked at him, her eyes shimmered with emotion—sadness, regret... and something else. Something unspoken. Something aching.
“Yes…” she whispered, so faintly it was almost a breath.
Poppy tried to smile, but it faltered beneath the weight in his chest. “So... is this goodbye?”
Branch nodded—just once—and before the truth could collapse them both, she curled back into his chest, eyes fluttering shut as she tried to memorize the warmth of his arms one last time.
Poppy cupped her face with trembling tenderness, brushing his thumb along her cheek. Her sapphire eyes locked with his, and in them he saw everything: the love they’d found too late, the longing, the silent plea not to let go. He had so much to say, so many promises on the tip of his tongue... but none of them could rewrite what fate had already written.
So instead, he kissed her.
This kiss was different—deeper, more urgent. It wasn’t just love—it was desperation. A plea. A goodbye stitched into every motion. Branch tangled her fingers into his hair, holding tight, as Poppy’s hands slid down her back, pulling her as close as humanly possible. If their hearts could merge, they would have. If time could have frozen, it would have.
But it didn’t.
Their lips parted slowly, reluctantly, until their foreheads met, breaths mingling, eyes shut against the truth.
“I love you...” Poppy whispered, even though it made the ache worse. He needed her to know.
Branch’s eyes squeezed shut. For a moment, she didn’t speak—just let the words echo in her soul. Then her voice came, soft and breaking.
“I don’t want to make this harder than it already is. People say we make our own destiny... but you and I—we always knew we were destined to break.” Her breath hitched. “You were never mine, not really. Even if... even if every part of me still wishes otherwise.”
Poppy parted his lips to speak, but Branch gently placed a finger over them, silencing him with a touch as soft as a whisper.
“Don’t,” she murmured. “Let me finish.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her voice fragile but steady—at least for now. “I don’t doubt that what you feel is real,” she began, her tone thick with emotion. “But... it’s hard for me to believe that you can love someone who has spent so long pretending to be someone she’s not.” She paused, the weight of that truth threatening to crush her. “I would love to explain what I mean, but I can’t. Because doing that would mean crossing a line I’m not ready to cross. Not if I want to protect the little that’s left of my heart.”
Her voice cracked, just barely, but she kept going.
“Maybe you think you love me now. Maybe, for a while, you’ll even believe it. But someday, I know you'll come to your senses and realize... I was just a fleeting chapter. A lovely memory. A story you’ll tell when you’re older—something that makes your voice soften but no longer makes your heart ache.”
Her smile was trembling, fragile, meant to soothe—but it crumbled beneath the tears that finally spilled, betraying her calm.
Poppy wanted to protest, to tell her she was wrong, that he did know her—more than anyone ever had. But before he could say a word, Branch pulled away, the warmth of her touch vanishing like smoke in the wind.
“Please don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t make this harder.”
Poppy’s heart pounded against his ribs. He reached for her instinctively, unwilling to let her go, but Branch had already stepped back.
Then another step. And another.
“Brandy—” he choked out, voice breaking with desperation.
But Branch shook her head, eyes shining with quiet devastation. “No.” Her tone was firm, even as her voice trembled. “Don’t say anything else. If you do, I won’t be able to leave.”
She wiped her tears with trembling hands, as if trying to erase every trace of weakness. But her chest rose and fell with shallow, broken breaths.
“Just… promise me something,” Branch said at last, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “Promise me you’ll forget. Go back to your life. Live it. Smile again. Because I swear—I’ll do the same.”
The words hit Poppy like a blow to the chest, knocking the air from his lungs. He wanted to scream that he couldn’t, that forgetting her was unthinkable.
“But—”
“Please.” Branch’s voice cracked, fragile and raw. “Let me go.”
Poppy felt the ground vanish beneath him, like he was falling with no end. Every part of him screamed to run after her, to hold on, to beg her not to leave. But she was already turning, already walking away.
“I love you...” Poppy whispered into the wind, though he knew she couldn’t hear him anymore.
And as she disappeared into the night, something in him broke. His heart still beat—but part of it had gone quiet forever.
Branch, meanwhile, felt like her body was betraying her with every step. Her legs moved forward, but her soul reached back—toward the warmth of his arms, the safety of his love. She wanted to turn around. To run to Poppy. To forget everything else and just stay.
But she couldn’t.
She shouldn’t.
Each heartbeat twisted the knot in her throat tighter. Her eyes burned with tears she refused to shed. Her legs trembled, but she forced herself to keep going.
Don’t stop me, Poppy, she begged silently. Don’t call me back. Don’t make this harder than it already is.
The night wind bit through her, or maybe it was just the cold left behind by his absence. A growing hollow spread in her chest—a wound, vast and echoing. She had imagined this goodbye so many times, telling herself she would be strong when it came. That she wouldn’t let it break her. But with every step away from him, her heart unraveled a little more.
Branch bit her lip until she tasted blood—metallic, sharp—like maybe physical pain could dull the ache inside her. But nothing could soften the weight of what she had just done. When she finally stopped, her fists were clenched so tight her nails carved crescents into her palms. She let out a shaky breath and tilted her head to the sky, where the stars blinked down in cruel silence.
“I love you too,” she whispered into the stillness, letting the words drift into the night like fragile embers—hoping, somehow, they might find their way to him.
But Branch knew they wouldn’t.
She knew Poppy would be left with only questions, doubts she had planted herself. And maybe… that was for the best.
Her trembling hands wiped at her wet cheeks. Then, with a breath that cracked in her chest, Branch reached for the red thread bracelet on her wrist. She snapped it.
A quiet farewell.
A final severing.
And with that, Branch kept walking—leaving behind the ashes of what could’ve been.
She didn’t look back.