A/N: Hi! So, this is a contest entry. For soulsistvrs's writing prompt comp. I don't really know what it is, honestly. It's not my very favorite of stories. (I'm not really good at judging that kind of thing, though.) It's also kinda depressing. TW for cursing, underage alcohol use, depression, mentions of suicide, homo/bisexuality (lolz you need help if that's a trigger warning for you), tell me if there are any others. Okieeee, here it is.

Prompt: Either write a beginning to this scene, or an end (I did an end):

"I'm sorry," Josie's eyes sparkled with tears, and she held her arms around herself as if she were holding herself together. "I can't love you. I never could have, and now—"

Josie's eyes went down as Tessa's shadow cast over her, and she nibbled on her lower lip, refusing to meet her intense gaze. "But I love you, Jo," Tessa whispered, lifting her chin with two fingers. "I love you, and I won't let you go."

Her kaleidoscopic eyes met Josie's flat gray ones. She was colorless— limp chestnut hair and slate-colored eyes, tanned skin that could never find a foundation match. Tessa was all color— flame-colored hair and eyes that Josie could never pin down the color of.

"Jo—"

"Tess, go away," Josie murmured, miserable. "Go away and don't come back."

And Josie could almost hear her heart shatter in two as her shadow left and her Tessa, her beautiful strong Tessa, did as she asked. Her final wish.

And Josie was alone in her misery.

— —— —

Hell was supposed to be warm. Hot, actually: a burning cesspit, if all the tales were half-correct.

They weren't. Josie knew that now.

It was cold here, in hell. Maybe that had always been the way it was, like how the brilliant, burning red hues of fire were only a trick. The hottest fire was blue.

And the worst place was cold. A lurking, intrusive chill, freezing Josie all the way to her bones, so that breathing hurt more than anything. Like something had been ripped out, deep inside, and all that was left was a numb pain.

Tessa was gone. And Josie had been a fool for ever thinking it could have ended any other way.

Her mind was fighting with itself, like usual. Half of it was cruel, and horribly truthful. The other half was defensive. And scared. Because she realized now it was probably wrong.

You stupid bitch, you can't wallow in self-pity when you were the one who drove her away! The words were sharp, and accusative. They were like a horrible, stinging slap against Josie's soul.

It was for the best. You know it was.

I don't know anything, you absolute ass, except that you want me to think you're right. And that's more than enough to be critical.

The room was as colorless as Josie herself. A washed-out off-white hue, like whoever had constructed it forgot what they were doing midway through, so it was stuck with the sickly plasterish tone from which it had emerged. It suited her, she thought. Tedious and insipid.

See? It was for the best. Tess can do so much better than us. It hurt, but Josie knew it was true. And she knew the other part of her knew it too, no matter what it pretended.

Maybe some strange, earlier version of Josie would have felt a curiosity, some sort of obligation to look around. That wasn't her anymore, though. Now, she was a nothing, all of her urges and wishes and dreams evaporating like the girl she loved.

When she closed her eyes, she was all she saw. Tessa's shadow, covering her like some sort of a shield. Tessa's kaleidoscopic eyes meeting hers, making her question everything. Tessa's colors, Tessa's skin, Tessa's words and Tessa's promises and Tessa's secrets and Tessa, Tessa, Tessa.

It was cold in hell. And lonely.

And Josie couldn't make herself care anymore.

She was hungry. The thought came from some faraway place, like an echo tumbling down a bridge, or a vague image barely made out through fog. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. She couldn't remember the last time she'd moved.

For fuck's sake! Just try and keep yourself alive, Josie!

It was funny, she thought dully. The voice trying to help her was the one that spent so often being mean.

So the voice transformed. Maybe that was her self-preservation coming out from wherever it had been buried, deep inside. But it was the opposite of helping. It was rubbing salt in her wounds. Hearing the voice transform into Tessa's familiar lilting cadence . . .

It was as though Josie was sucking on a ginger candy. A slow, sweet burn.

Take care of yourself, Jo.

Jo. The name Tessa had always called her.

Memories flashed behind Josie's eyelids, fast and furious and awful, hollowing.

Tessa, in elementary school. Loud and beautiful and confident, and she'd told Josie her drawings were amazing. The words had lit her up for weeks afterwards, making her soft and proud.

Tessa, as they were getting older. Sleepovers, and they painted their nails pink and green.

Like a watermelon.

Tessa, founding the Watermelons, a club of two, forever and ever until the sky went the color of their coated nails.

Tessa, when she got her first boyfriend. The horrible fascination of watching Tessa, Tessa, who had always been assured and collected and equanimous, become strange and unsure, blushy.

Does he like me?

Tessa, flirting, and the horrible, crushing weight of knowing she would never love Josie that way.

Tessa, after her first big breakup. When she cried broken tears and told Josie what she already knew to be true.

I don't know what I'd do without you, Jo. You're like my sister, my second self.

Tessa, at prom, wearing her dark, twilight blue dress with the little black sparkles that swished around her legs in the way she loved. She was in between boyfriends, so they went together, with a group of their other friends, the Semi-Watermelons, who were great and funny, but would never quite be a part of Them. It was crowded and it was warm and it was loud, and Josie snuck sips from the flask Tessa had brought until the stars were spinning around her.

Tessa, after prom. When Josie, drunk and bold and gung ho as hell, pulled Tessa towards her and kissed her, and Tessa kissed her back. When the whole night was a blur, but Josie remembered the giddy excitement, the we'll never be the same.

Tessa, Josie's girlfriend. Grabbing her hand and twirling her around for no reason, kissing her in school as hello, texting red hearts, whispering her love in the dead of night, and all of it meant something now, the something Josie had always dreamed of.

Jo.

So what changed?

Tessa certainly hadn't.

Jo.

Tessa, crying when she saw Josie.

Tessa, clutching Josie's hands.

Tessa, making herself strong for Josie when she was breaking.

Tessa, begging her to stop, to think about who she was hurting.

Tessa, promising unconditional love, support forever.

Tessa, wounded, when Josie told her to find someone who deserved her.

Tessa, leaving because Josie told her to.

Tessa, leaving because really, what else was she supposed to do at this point, it was selfish of Josie to want anything else for her.

Tessa, leaving.

Tessa, gone.

Take care of yourself, Jo.

Josie knew she would come back. Tessa would pause the entire world to cradle her and make sure she was okay. That was part of why she loved her.

She loved her so much she had to let her go.

Josie, in elementary school. Shy and quiet, tracing people onto the sides of her math worksheets. Blushing when she saw the pretty girl with the flame-colored hair and the kaleidoscope eyes, smiling when she told her her drawings were amazing.

Josie, as they were getting older. Sleepovers, and she hated pink and green, but Tessa wanted to so she would do it in a heartbeat.

Like a watermelon.

Josie, the second member of the Watermelons, wishing with all of her heart that it would become something more than a two-person club.

Josie, when Tessa got her first boyfriend, and the fear blazed through her heart: What if she forgets me?

Does he like me?

Josie, hoping beyond hope that he didn't.

Josie, with Tessa crying broken tears on her shoulder, smiling sadly at the words she knew to be true.

I don't know what I'd do without you, Jo. You're like my sister, my second self.

Josie, at prom, smiling because Tessa hadn't forgotten her, sneaking sips from Tessa's flask until the stars were spinning around her and she forgot to hide her heart from on her sleeve.

Josie, after prom, kissing Tessa all night, and she smelled like her mom's lipstick and peach schnapps and happiness. The beautiful, vibrating thought: We'll never be the same.

Josie, Tessa's girlfriend. Kisses and heart emojis and the best year of her life.

Jo.

So what changed?

Josie.

Jo.

Josie, numb and sad and she didn't know why.

Josie, clutching Tessa's hands.

Josie, falling apart next to Tessa, sobbing and breaking and why, why, why.

Josie, ready to jump, stopping because of Tessa's screams, her pleas.

Josie, listening to Tessa's promises, unable to make any of her own.

Josie, lashing out, telling Tessa to find someone who deserved her.

Josie, telling Tessa to leave, because she couldn't stand hurting people anymore.

Josie, telling Tessa to leave because fuck it, she wasn't going to keep being selfish, and Tessa had her own life and she wasn't being fair.

Josie, telling Tessa to leave.

Tessa was gone.

Josie was cold.

She was a block of ice.

She knew without a doubt: by the time Tessa came back, she'd be frozen solid.

Frozen solid, so she couldn't hear Tessa's screams, her tears.

Jo.