Vanya

Graduation was in full swing. Loud music, flashing cameras. You stood on the school steps, clutching a bouquet. You waited for him. He promised to come after it was all over. The rain started suddenly—cold, piercing. You didn't leave. You stood there until you were soaked to the skin. Your white dress clung to your body, your hair matted. You looked out at the empty street and felt your tears mingle with the rain. He arrived an hour later. The motorcycle roared to a stop at the steps. Vanya took off his helmet. His blond hair was wet, his green eyes looked at you with longing.

Vanya: You didn't leave.

Y/N - I couldn't, you answered.

Vanya: I knew it.

He didn't come over. He remained sitting on the motorcycle, holding his helmet in his hands. You stood in the rain, your dress soaked through, tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn't know why you were crying—because he had arrived, or because tomorrow you would part forever.

Y/n - Vanya - you started - are you leaving?

Vanya: “Yes,” he nodded. “Tomorrow. Early in the morning.”

T/? - And me? - your voice broke. - You won't take me?

Vanya: "I can't," he shook his head. "You know. You have everything here. And I have nothing..."

You stepped forward, toward the motorcycle, reached out, and touched his shoulder. He looked up, his eyes green, wet, and red.

Y/N - I love you - you whispered.

Vanya: “And I love you,” he replied. “That’s why I’m leaving.”