A Brighter Tomorrow

• t h i r t y f o u r •

"Stop" I chided myself, faint memories whispering in the back of my mind. The streets reminded me of Kiara. Frankly, every little part of this town held fragments of her being, her presence like a soul that had finally sunk its claws into my degrading willpower.

Even after she was gone, I could feel her aura pulsating in every breath of the atmosphere.

Rafael was nowhere in sight, and as desperate and needy as it sounded, I wanted him to be by my side. My mental space was polluted, my lungs straining from each breath, and it was as if he was the only one who possessed the ability to heal the pain. I hated how clingy and dependent that made me.

The peace evaporated, replaced by an asphyxiating stillness that I wasn't able to handle. Through all the mental chaos, my sight honed in on the container Rafael had placed beside my seat. The container hiding all the blades.

My fingers twitched restlessly, and I fought an internal battle with myself. He wouldn't really notice if one went missing though, right?

Subconsciously my hands hovered over the hoodie sleeve, knowing the bandages beneath were a resultant of the same blade. Even if I had done this countless times before, this time it felt like a betrayal. Before, I didn't have to worry about anyone else but myself, but now he knew too. If I stole back one of my razors, I'd be hurting both myself and Rafael. But did it really matter? Did he really care that much?

I suddenly jumped out of my thoughts as a sudden gust of chilly air froze the fingertips that lingered over the top of the container.

Rafael's eyes widened in horror as he took in the scene before him, and I instantly retracted my hand, stuffing them in my pockets. His face twisted into both anger and guilt as he glared at the place where my fingers had been.

"Did you take anything from inside?" Was his first question, which was framed as a firm demand, and I shook my head like a miscreant child who had been caught red-handed.

The pun was a bit too disturbing for the current circumstances.

Despite my refusal, he checked inside, heaving out a sigh of relief as if he knew the exact contents of the box. That familiar contempt coiled around my heart, his mistrust igniting a typhoon of rage but it subsided just as quick. I was the only one at fault here.

"Fuck, I shouldn't have left this here" he murmured, as he settled further into the seat.

I dodged his gaze, instead focusing on a stare off with the pavement and the flutter of weekend activity.

"Hey Blaze?" My fingers were bunching my sweatpants, and they loosened upon the soft edge to his voice.

"I got something for you" his voice was uncharacteristically chirpy, streaked with a hint of pride, and I turned around to meet his gaze.

A large styrofoam cup was in one of his hands and a brown paper bag in the other. Steam rose from the cup and swirled in mists around his emerald eyes, which twinkled with mirth.

"It's hot chocolate. But get this, it's got biscuit crumbles and swirls of vanilla bean or something too inside. The barista was spouting some fancy shit and she said it was one of their bestsellers, so I got it for you cause its pretty chilly outside. That's why it took so long, because apparently this takes forever to make and-" he trailed off at the small smile I shot him. I couldn't resist, not when he was rambling on like this.