❝ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴜsʜᴇs ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏ. ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ʟʟ ɢᴏ ❞
~~~
🇬 🇦 🇧 🇷 🇮 🇪 🇱 🇱 🇦 :
Three days later.
The warm summer breeze blows my loose hair into my eyes. I curse under my breath when I feel my hand move the pencil in the wrong direction against the page. My other hand comes out to move the strands away, and another curse topples out of my mouth. A sharp line of lead comes across the person's face.
Now I need to start all over.
I tear the page from the book and crumble it into a ball. Placing it beside me, I pick my pencil up again and trace the outline of a face.
Her face.
I know the only way I'll be able to live with myself after what I did is reminiscing on the type of person she was.
I start with her eyes. Those beautiful eyes that somehow resemble Hunter's, even if they are a different color. I'd like to tell myself that hers are a darker shade of blue. A more gentler, more elegant baby blue. From her eyes, I make the outline of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows and her even more perfect nose and lips. All brought together and surrounded by a gentle set jaw.
She's beautiful. And I hate to think I was the one to take such a beautiful human from this world all for freedom that suddenly doesn't seem so worth it.
She had fair skin. Like that of a porcelain doll; ethereal almost. And, in my mind, I picture her in a lacy white dress. Holding a bouquet of gardenias, in a field of them, because they were her favorite, after all. And I don't forget the mountains and water in the background, because they were her favorite as well; beautiful scenery that could take your breath away. Much like her beauty.
After two hours of shading and coloring, the drawing is finally finished. What stares back at me is how I imagine Aurora to be up in heaven. Living a life without worry and stress. A life with unsolicited happiness. The type that fills you to the very marrow of your bones.
And I pray she forgives me for what I'd done.
♡♡♡
The sun sets behind the clouds, painting the sky with radiant hues of oranges and reds. My half lidded eyes flicker when my ears catch the faintest sound. A tile slipping and shattering against concrete. I feel my body turn, and my eyes move along the roof. The one I'd decided to sit and draw on, before almost falling asleep.
A dark figure catches my eye, and when they turn to look in my direction, familiar grey eyes catch in the light of the setting sun. Turning them a beautiful light grey with flecks of sapphire. A shade so close to Aurora's that my stomach flips with nausea.
"Oh… hey." He says, a twinge of awkwardness lingering not far behind. My eyebrows pull tight with confusion as I take in his demeanor; shoulders taught, back hunched, shock written all over that pretty boy face of his.
He's surprised, I realise. Surprised that I'm out here, perhaps. I wonder why.
"What are you doing?" In that moment, when he stands to his full height, I realise he was about to jump from the roof.
There's a long stretch of silence. Of us just staring at each other. Then he speaks up, "...nothing." he says, as his eyes move to look at our surroundings. At everything but me.
"Hunter," His eyes flicker to me immediately.
"Yes." He utters, voice suddenly hoarse. He clears his throat.
"What are you doing?" He looks below us, at the tile that had fallen and broken into shards of cement, for what feels like forever, when he finally looks up at me.
"I was going somewhere."
"You were sneaking out," I correct him. One end of his lip tugs up, allowing a dimple to indent one cheek. I want to hate myself for my stomach fluttering at that mere gesture, but I'm suddenly unable to muster up the foul emotion.
"I wouldn't say that when there isn't an adult to tell me what I should and shouldn't do."
"Anthony's an adult," I point out, and this time he full on grins.
"Doesn't count in my eyes." He says, before making a gesture to indicate his departure.
"Wait," I hear myself mutter before I can stop myself. Half his body hangs from the side of the mansion. He lifts himself higher, and heat settles in my stomach when I realise he's wearing a black long sleeved Henley. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms strain to keep him from toppling off the roof.
"Yeah?" My cheeks heat at the inappropriate thoughts that slither through my mind like pythons. Ready to squeeze my insides.
"Do you want to watch the sunset with me?" Without hesitation, he pulls himself up from the side of the building with unexpected ease.
The only way I'll be able to live with myself after what I did is reminiscing on the type of person she was.
And what better way, to talk with her son about her.
He takes a seat beside me, handing me the colored pencils that had fallen from my pencil case.
"I mean, unless you're unable to cancel your plans." He waves me off and pulls himself higher up so that his back rests against the frame of my bedroom window.
"Nope, I'm good here." I feel myself settle in beside him. Perhaps I was right when I thought he wouldn't keep bad company.
"What were you drawing?" He asks after the sun fully sets, giving way for the moon.
My favorite part.
The moon shines bright in the sky. And the stars that spread like freckles on skin in the deep blue midnight shine like precious diamonds.
Maybe Kaz is staring at the same stars I am…
"I was— I saw pictures of this woman in the collage of family photos downstairs, and I was so captivated by her beauty that I had to draw her." My hand finds my sketchbook, and my fingers page through it absent-mindedly.
"I'd associated her with the gardenias that were all over the property and drew this." I place the book on his thigh and continue staring up at the moon, but not really noticing.
It's a half truth. A half truth is better than the full truth. I can only imagine his face if I outright said, 'I killed your mother in cold blood, and her ghost haunts me to this day'. The outcome would be nothing short of disastrous.
"Wow," he whispers, and it floats away with the night air.
"It's— she's so— you're really talented." He stammers. I plaster a thankful smile on my face even if it is half-hearted.
After a moment more of staring at the drawing of his mom, he places the book between us, then goes to stand.
"I really gotta get going," I almost strain my neck to look up into his eyes.
My eyes linger a fraction too long on his jeans that sit dangerously low on his hips. Thankfully, he doesn't notice my staring.
"I'll see you around?" He asks, placing his hands into his pants pockets. An awkward tick, if I didn't know any better. My lips pull into a small smile, and I nod once.
His lips—that I can't help but stare at— pulls into a smirk, and he takes off in the direction he'd planned earlier.
YOU ARE READING
The Heart Wants What It Wants
Teen Fiction❝ She wanted a fresh start, He wanted normalcy, But their past had other plans. ❞ ~~~ For the majority of her life, Gabriella had to endure all the things a child should never have to experience. After nearly two years of planning to start afresh...
