IT HAD BEEN NEARLY A WEEK SINCE EVERYTHING IN my world fell apart and Eliot left. I've been waiting like a dog at the armchair in the foyer of our penthouse for him to walk through that door but he hasn't yet.

Today, I'd finally given up.

With a shaky hand, I turned the stove top on and placed a pan over it, preparing to make breakfast. I fixed Janus a bottle already, and she'd now been sucking on it while my occupied arm swaddled her.

But as I stood there, staring at the sizzling butter in the pan, a knock echoed through the empty penthouse. My heart skipped a beat, and I turned towards the door with cautious hope. Could it be Eliot? Has he finally returned?

Gently placing Janus in her crib, I rushed towards the entrance, my footsteps echoing in the hollow space. I hesitated for a moment before opening the door, unsure of what awaited me on the other side. As the door swung open, my eyes widened in disbelief.

There stood Eliot, his usually tousled hair was a mess and it appeared as though he'd been tossing and turning and running his hands through his hair a dozen times. He did that often when he was nervous.

He met my gaze but he didn't smile that lopsided smile and he most certainly didn't sweep me up in his arms and tell me how he forgave me.

I didn't think he would, I guess I just hoped that it would happen like that. But it didn't. And I don't blame anyone but myself.

He removed his hand from the pocket of his buffalo-plaid jacket and began moving it in the air with his words. "Just here to get the rest of my stuff."

I felt my heart plummet as Eliot's words hung in the air, shattering any remaining hope I had held onto. The realization hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me with a force that left me gasping for air. I struggled to find my voice, to form words that would make him stay, make him understand.

"Eliot--" I start, but he cuts me off with a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. I deserve it, but it still takes me by surprise.

"I'm just here to get my stuff, Marian."

Marian.

Eliot hasn't called me by my full name since the first time we met and now that he has, with so much unresolved anger his eyes that I'm at fault for, it punches me right in the gut.

I nod, tucking my bottom lip between my teeth--trying anything to prevent the tears from pricking at my eyes. I open the door wider and take a step to the side.

His tall frame steps through the door and his shoes clank against the marbled floor. He wastes no time, striding toward the bedroom we once shared.

As Eliot disappeared into the bedroom, I followed behind him, my heart pounding against my ribcage. The room felt foreign now, like a museum exhibit of a love that had once thrived within these walls. The bed lay disheveled, a haunting reminder of tangled limbs and whispered promises.

I watched as Eliot moved with purpose. Each item he picked up felt like a dagger piercing my heart, reminding me of the life we had built together, now unraveling before my eyes. The walls seemed to close in around me as the reality of our impending separation settled heavily upon my shoulders.

"Eliot," I finally managed to say, the sound barely more than a whisper. He paused for a moment, his hand hovering over a stack of folded shirts. His gaze met mine briefly before he turned away, continuing his task.

He doesn't respond. Just clenches his jaw even tighter.

I don't say anything else, either, because honestly, I'm afraid he might snap and we'll both regret it.

He continues to remove his belongings out and off of the nightstand on his side of the bed until he freezes. His grip tightens around a photograph he had framed of us on our first date together. His fingers traced the smiling faces frozen in time, a bittersweet reminder of the love and happiness we once shared. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between anger and longing.

As he stood there, motionless, I mustered the courage to step closer. My hand reached out tentatively, wanting to offer him comfort, but also afraid of how he might react. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words and shattered dreams.

"Eliot," I whispered again, my voice trembling with emotion. 

He turned to face me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and resignation. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as we locked gazes, both searching for answers within each other.

"There's nothing that I haven't already said" he finally replied, his voice laced with a sadness that cut through me like a knife. It was true, he'd told me all he could that night but it still didn't feel enough.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I know, but maybe there's something I can say now, something that might change your mind."

Eliot's expression softened for a brief moment, a flicker of hope dancing in his eyes. But just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, replaced by a steely resolve. He shook his head and turned away from me, his fingers still gripping the photograph tightly, that is, until he sets it back on the nightstand. The simple movement shouldn't mean as much as it does. He leaves it there as if he wants no reminder of the love we once shared--no reminder of what we've done.

"It's too late, Marian." he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his shoulder bumping into mine as he walks past me and into the living area.

Janus babbles from her play pen, an ear-to-ear smile on her face as she reaches her chubby little hands out for Eliot.

And he freezes. Eliot's eyes soften as he looks down at Janus, a flicker of longing crossing his face. He crouches down and reaches out to her, his fingers grazing her tiny hand. For a moment, it seems as though he might change his mind, might stay and fight for us--for Janus. But just as quickly, he pulls his hand back, his resolve strengthening once more.

"I can't, Marian," he whispers, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I can't stay."

Tears well up in my own eyes as the weight of his words settles upon me. I want to beg him to reconsider, to take another chance on us. But deep down, I know that it's futile. Eliot has made up his mind.

As I watch him gather the last of his belongings and head towards the door, I feel a surge of determination wash over me.

His hand falls on the knob. He's ready to open the door and throw this all away and my heart is racing and I don't know if I can handle it. "What about Janus?"

His body goes numb. He freezes, but doesn't face me. His knuckles turn white as a ghost as he tightens his grip on the copper knob of our--my--front door and I can hear the quietest change in his breath.

And for a moment, I'm hopeful. I don't know what exactly it is I'm hoping for, but--anything that'll get him from walking out that door.

But it isn't enough. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't turn to face me, he just opens and closes the door behind him.

He closes the door. 

And at first, it didn't really hit me. The world fell quiet around me and it was almost as if I was in a state of shock. Until Janus started crying.

Her cries pierced the heavy silence that enveloped the apartment, amplifying the raw ache in my chest. I hurriedly went to Janus' pack-and-play and cradled her in my arms, whispering soothing words into her ears as warm tears of my own streamed down my face.

The hot tears against the cold skin of my face only hits me with the realization that I've become everything I hate.

My trembling hand goes up to support the back of Janus' neck as I let out a crooked sob.

I've become the very thing I hate.

Coriolanus Snow.

The wet corner of my jaw rests atop of Janus' face and when I look out the window past my blurry vision, I see that it's not snowing.

Why the fuck isn't it snowing?

It's the middle of February, but still... Snow isn't falling.

It never was.

God, I fucking hate snow.

THE END

BLAKELY SPEAKS !
well that's a wrap folks!

also.. did anyone catch the parallel between
when marian left coryo to when eliot left mare hehe 

before i get sentimental in my goodbye note.. 
MARYO or MARIOT ⁉️

please keep an eye out for two new chapters, as they will be
alternate happy endings for whatever team you are on!