(I literally just started writing and me being me things kinda got crazy!! Thanks for the reads!!! They mean everything!!)

Just like he’d said at 3:30 the next day he was standing outside the diner and in his hand was a single stem of pale pink bleeding hearts.

His face lit up when he saw me walking over and I couldn’t help but muster a small smile. He was as most girls tend to put it “impossible to resist”.

“Hey, Stranger,” he said holding out the hearts.

“Hey,” I say almost breathless as I reach out for the flowers. Our fingers brush gently making my heart race.

“So,” Chase clears his throat. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

Oh, I see he’s a right-to-the-big-stuff kinda guy. Maybe it’s wrong that knowing that, or assuming, makes me rip off a piece of my heart for him.

“I’m not one to break my word,” I smile looking down at the stem of bleeding hearts in my hand. They’re beautiful.

Chase lets out a small laugh. “So you’re different, huh?”

I snap my head up and meet his dark, golden eyes. “Different?” I repeat pinching the small stem between my fingers.

Chase nods as he runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair. “Yeah, from the other girls.”

I shrug, my heart falling in my chest. That’s a bad thing, isn’t it?

“I guess,” I mumble my eyes drifting to the ground.

“Oh,” Chase reaches a hand out placing it on my shoulder. “I didn’t mean—It’s a good thing. To be different.”

A small smile pulls at the corners of my lips. “I don’t know about ‘good’.”

Chase gives my shoulder a gentle shake. “I do.”

We both smiled then, smiles that we both knew meant something. I’d never smiled at another boy the way I smiled at him that day. And by the look in his dark eyes he’d never smiled like that in his life.

It was something special, something we’d both never talk about again, but something we’d both never forget.

. . . . . . . 18 months later . . . . . . .

I thought he was dead.

I heard the sound. A loud crash that echoed . . . Something only _one thing_ could make.

I knew it, something happened. We’d been apart, broken up, for a few months and I’d walk past his house every day, hoping one day he’d come out and take back what he said that night. But right now, I don’t care.

“Chase!” I shout as I run towards his front door. “Chase!”

Out of the corner of my eye I see the dull glow of the street lamp. A post we’d met at si many times. A spot he said was safe.

“My dad can’t see it from his bedroom,” he’d told me months before. “It’s best that way.”

I never asked him why he didn’t want his father to see us, but now as I’m throwing the door open and rushing into a house I’m completely unfamiliar with, I wish I had.

I hear another loud, deafing boom and then a heavy thump.

Chase . . .

I sprint down the hallway and into the first door I see.

I gasp as I fall agaisnt the frame of the door. There’s a body only a few feet away. A bigger, stronger, and older version of the boy I’ve fallen in love with.

My eyes dart around the room as I search for Chase. I see him propped up agaisnt the wall, a deadly, bright red spot growing on his side.

“Chase?” My voice shakes as I stumble over to him. “Chasy?”

A gentle groan comes from him as he rolls his eyes open. “Kiera,” he mumbles softly his eyes fluttering shut.

I put both my hands on his cheeks holding his face to look at mine. “Chase?” I give him a tiny shake. “What happened?”

“You . . .” Chase whispers his eyes still shut.“Shouldn’t be here.”

I shake my head. “Tell me what happened.” My eyes start to water as his chest starts slowing down.

I can’t spend this time trying to get an answer that won’t come.

My hands tremble as I reach for my phone in my pocket. I pull it out calling 911 as fast as I can.

It feels like hours pass before the schreeching sound of sirens blare in the distance. I lay with Chase, squeezing his limp hand as my whole body shakes. He can’t be dead.

“Chase?” I whisper into his ear as a soft groan escapes him. My heart jumps with relief, its not too late. “You’ve got to hold on. For me.”

He nods very slowly as his fingers gently brushing agaisnt my hand as paramedics rush into the room.

They stop over Chase’s dad and even though they don’t know that this is his fault, it still makes me mad.

“Over here,” I call to them, giving Chase one last squeeze before I let go of his hand.

They rush to my side on of them grabbing me and leading me out the door.

“They’ll take care of him,” she reassures me.

Yet the piece of my heart I gave to him on our first date can’t help but start shattering in my chest.