The Halo Effect | ✓

20 | perfect

E P I G R A P H

❝love is a wind that either becomes a storm or a hurricane.❞

☾ twenty | perfect ☽

Holt's POV

I SLAMMED THE car door shut behind me, starring up at the abandoned building that I have become so familiar with, the grey concrete that covered the sides of it blending into the grey sky beyond it.

Just another stormy day in Moonvale, what's new.

I don't even know why I'm coming here, Ace stayed back at home to help mom clean and Mase is out with Aera, I think I just need a smoke and be twenty stories up in the air in hopes that maybe I'll be able to breathe again.

I locked my car, my converse scuffing against the pebbles covering the ground until I reached the creaky old door, yanking it open then beginning my dreadful journey of walking up the endless steps.

When I reached the top, I took a deep breath. I'm not unfit, but god those steps make me feel like it.

I opened the last door, gasping as a cold raindrop landed on my cheek, of course it starts raining now that I'm here.

I swiped the stray raindrop off my pale cheek, shaking my already damp strands of hair.

My shoes scuffed as I walked over to the navy-blue couch, seating myself down. I instantly regretted it as the cushioning was damp also, but I tried to ignore how cold my lower half was.

It was around six, and the sun should be setting any moment. Well the little amount of sun that there is, it's been raining on and off today and the sky has remained a colour resembling rock or asphalt, all day.

I pulled my pouch of pre-rolled cigarettes out of my side pocket, placing one of the few left between my lips, cupping it with my hand to shield it from the rain as I lit it with my black Bic lighter, before placing the lighter back in my pocket and inhaling the smoke.

Fuck, it feels good to breathe again.

I know I shouldn't smoke, my mom always hated that I smoke, and Ace isn't too fond of it either, regardless of the fact he does it himself, but he's more of a weed guy rather than a cigarette guy. I'm somewhere in the middle.

I never thought that I'd smoke up until my brother died, before then I was one of those "I'll never smoke" type of kids.

Oh, how the times have changed.

"Holt?" I heard her charmingly soft voice.

What the hell is she doing here?

This can't be real.

I turned my head slowly, but she wasn't there. I was just met with an open, vacant space occupied by none other than raindrops and wind.

I shook my head, she's not there.

I continued to smoke my cigarette, staring at the bland scenery in front of me, until I heard her voice again.

"Holt, it's me." She whispered.

I shook my head, tugging at my black strands of hair, "You're not real." I growled.