hensleywrites:

todd anderson does not believe in ghosts.

it’s all a myth, what people tell him - that your spirit lives on after you die. it’s not true, it can’t be.

it’s been 29 years since neil died. he’s gone, that’s it. gone forever.

---

sometimes when todd wants to escape - or distract himself, really, when he starts sinking too low - he’ll read poetry out on the beach. his house is right along the edge of it, so it’s easy enough to take a chair out onto the sand and let the bright sunshine, warm sand, and cool ocean breeze carry him away from reality.

once, though, he sets everything up outside, only to realize it’s a bit warmer than he had thought, causing him to leave his book on his chair as he heads back inside for something to drink.

he returns a few moments later with a cold bottle of water, only to find his book had been blown open by the wind. but despite the continued breeze todd still feels against his skin, the pages only flutter a little, otherwise staying as is. shaking his head, he walks over, picking up the book and looking down at what it’s open to.

“come my darling,

it is never too late

to begin

our love again.

-atticus”

just after todd finishes reading the poem, he feels a faint pressure on his shoulder, as if someone’s hand were there. a moment later, a breeze blows by - a small one, like a wisp of breath on his cheek, followed by the softest of touches. todd brushes his fingers against his cheek afterwards, wondering if he imagined the action, or if he actually felt it.

a strong breeze hits his hands, where he still clutches the book, and he loosens his grip, letting the pages turn on their own, only to stop on another page, where just the last stanza of another poem is printed, the rest on the previous page.

“i burned so long so quiet

you must have wondered

if i loved you back.

i did. i did.

i do.

- annelyse gelman”

tears well up in todd’s eyes now, and he blinks a few times to get rid of them, only for one to slip down his cheek.

“i love you too,” he says, to no one and someone. another soft breath-like breeze hits his cheek, a feather-light touch, and he knows he’s been heard.

todd anderson does not believe in ghosts, but maybe, just maybe, neil perry is still out there, waiting to reunite with his first, true love.