Piece by Piece

19. Birthday Wishes

Davyn's resolve to give Millie time and space was crumbling with every moment they spent together. He'd thought that limiting this time would make it easier. After all, they maybe spent two hours in the library, 80% of which they actually did homework. But oh, that 20% made out of teasing and him pushing to see how fast he could make her fall.

After she'd tricked him and won their first game, he couldn't help but one-up her by making sure it was her yearning for him, initiating their kisses. After about a week of this back-and-forth game, he'd gotten her hot and bothered enough to climb into his lap.

Just like in the case of kissing, the way she molded against him was different from anything he'd ever experienced before. He wasn't sure if it was her body or the way she made it move, but it felt like her shape was especially made for him. The fact that she realized what she was doing and almost died of embarrassment made the entire thing more fun.

But through this newfound game, there was something else that had caught his interest. After their initial discussion about her art, she steered clear of the subject and didn't engage when he asked about it. It only got him asking more, but she constantly dodged the subject. Mostly by kissing him and shutting him up. However, an obsession had formed in the back of his mind, and he wanted to see what she was painting or drawing or whatever.

And the opportunity presented itself in the middle of April, when Davyn woke up to be eighteen years old. The moment he opened his eyes to the sunlight sneaking through his window, he immediately decided to call in a birthday favor and make Millie show him just what she was up to in the art studio.

The thought brought a grin to his face, and he threw the covers off himself. When his bare feet touched the floor, the anticipation fizzled and died. His heart lurched, his stomach dropped, and it took him a fraction of a second to identify the reason.

Even with Millie to distract him, he couldn't forget what his birthday was supposed to mean. It was the day his father was to share his grand fate. Except his father was now six feet under, and it was his first birthday without any parents. His heart tightened at the thought as air seemed to become scarce.

The darkness which had been slowly alleviating over the past few weeks fell back like the heaviest wave, drowning him. It had all been a lie, the short respite, brought only by his denial and his choice to ignore the bad. He'd wanted to be happy, even if there was no way to do that.

His mother... He'd put her out of his mind, failed to visit her for over a month, pretending that she was dead. But today, he couldn't.

As if his body had a will of its own, he found himself getting dressed, putting on his scarlet Saint Agnes Academy t-shirt with a black pair of jeans. Then, he headed down the stairs and for the door.

"Where are you going?" Freider asked from the doorway to the kitchen.

Davyn stopped, but couldn't be bothered to turn around. "Get Ron to school."

"What? Where are you going?"

He didn't care to answer, just pulled his leather jacket on and headed out. He was already in his car by the time Freider stepped into the garage, so it was easy to pull out and be on his way before his brother could scream too much.

The numbness inside him hurt. The way his body moved mechanically was unsettling, especially as his mind continued to scream that it was a terrible idea. And yet, he felt as if he'd suffocate if he stopped.

In what felt like no time at all, he reached the asylum and parked in the mostly empty lot. It was very early for visitors, and for a split second, he wondered if he'd even be let in. But it didn't stop him from going to the door. It was open, and he reached the reception where an exhausted-looking orderly was arranging a stack of files.