ROT WITH ME

vii - time

CHAPTER SEVEN
BEFORE

Nineteen year old June's clouded gaze was filled to the brim with lunacy. A diverse selection of long cotton silks were sprawled across her covers, laying limply over the curve of her bed like damp ribbons.

Inquiries of which gown rose to the tip of her tongue and stayed there for hours as if it were in a deep, deep slumber. Who knew it'd be so difficult to choose what to wear for a funeral?

Ticking from the grandfather clock below her room reached every crevice of the cosmic-sized structure. Wordlessly taunting her with its repetitive tune she came to loathe in a matter of three days.

She was currently staying at the only place she'd ever considered home. Her dad's latest girlfriend, Bela, rubs slow circles into the length of her spine.

It was the day of his funeral. Her own flesh and blood mother is nowhere to be seen.

Back in her childhood room for the first time after the divorce, it was the twelfth of August. Five days after her birthday, after it happened. It was too quick, too soon. But June knew there would never be a right time to bury her father six feet deep.

***

PRESENT

Twenty-three year old June allowed a cool sensation to rush down her throat. A thick silence coating her mind, she could always count on good old ice cold water after a long period of dehydration. She leaned back in her seat, throwing back her head in pure bliss. Ignoring the blooming bruises on her legs.

Held captive beneath dark eyes. She felt it on her skin, Rafe's gaze sweeping over her like a physical touch from across the room. A chill crept along her spine. But even he wouldn't dare make a sound.

A steady tread of footsteps ticked against the flooring in the next room. June blinked her eyes open, keeping her face neutral in order to fool him into thinking she hadn't noticed his jarring staring.

Hands and questions tucked away in the pockets of his ebony trousers. He looked at her as if she were a puzzle he yearned to solve. And June hated it.

Mei had invited her out to a roller rink. What she failed to mention was that Rafe would be there too. And to make matters worse, she was informed Juliette and Camilla would be arriving soon. It'd only been a week since the freak-out.

Rafe didn't say anything about it. He wasn't that sort of person but June knew Camilla was. Her fingers trembled beneath the table at the thought. June despised confrontation with a burning passion.

But one thing she was relieved about was that Henry wouldn't be there. There was no reason for him to, Camilla only sort of knew him. Rafe knew he existed but that was it.

Her eyes roamed the room in false secrecy, gaze locking with his the moment she ran out of patience to pretend. A cold draft slipped past them, he shuddered. She didn't. They stared at one another for a moment, both opening their mouths to speak but someone slid into the seat beside Rafe.

Darcy.

Why was she even here?

His gaze shifted away. Before she could even feel jealous, she reminded herself that at the end of the day, it would all seize to exist. June looked away from the scene.