Spring Will Come (Ace x Reader)

You knew the universe was taunting you when, even months later, you were still finding clothes he had left behind. A virtual mountain of laundry was beginning to pile up in your living room, but you could not bear to throw it away. Not when that stupid Hawaiian shirt reminded you of your first date at the fair—awkward and sweetly innocent. Or the shorts he wore on your trip to the beach, when he fell asleep on the sand and ended up looking like a lobster for the following month.

They still smelled like him—burnt matches and cinnamon and that terrible cologne you had bought him for your first Christmas together that he insisted on wearing anyway. You could close your eyes and inhale and it was almost as if he was right there in front of you—fresh out of the shower smelling like his coconut shampoo. It all melted away once you opened them again, the spring morning sun illuminating the dust mites in the air as you tossed yet another shirt on the ever-growing pile.

It would all have to go eventually. But for now, you weren’t ready to let go of those few blissful moments where you could just close your eyes and pretend everything was as it used to be. As it should be.

Everything was so cold without him, from the sheets beside you when you woke in the mornings, to the cup of coffee still resting on the nightstand that you could not bring yourself clean up. You couldn’t help but imagine, time and time again, that he would suddenly reach out and take the cold cup in his hands and warm it between his palms, bring it back to life just as you wished you could him when you took his cold face in your hands that day.

It had been a long, cold winter that year.

Even as the nights grew shorter, you found it hard to shake the icy grasp of the season. Outside the snow thawed, the cherry blossoms bloomed soft and bright against the pale blue sky. But inside, without him to warm your skin, your bones, your very soul, you were caught in a perpetual winter, waiting for him to return like the spring and thaw your frozen heart.

Three months had passed before you finally started the cleaning process. It took a lot of convincing before you could see it as anything other than erasing him. It was a slow process of tears and sleepless nights and peeling back the packing tape so you could run your fingers over the pages he had dogeared in his favourite book just one more time.

It hurt. But with every box packed, your heart felt lighter and the cold receded just a little bit more.

It might take a while, but one day it would be finished. No more would his belongings remind you of a life lost, but a life remembered. No more would the photos be obscured by tears, but looked upon fondly. When the spring cleaning was done, of your apartment and of your own mind, maybe you could finally make your peace.

Maybe then spring would come for you and the cherry blossoms would bloom and finally, you could learn to love again the way you loved him.