Changing You ✦ The Sequel

Chapter 13 {R}

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✦ RILEY ✦

After Ryan had let me into the house and I got greeted by an overly excited dog, he told me Zach was upstairs. Out of habit, I had expected to find him in his bedroom.

He wasn't there, though. Instead, I heard music coming from the room next to his. His father's room, I knew, even though I had never been there before.

I saw him through the widely opened door and waited with stepping inside, halting in the doorway.

The room was close to empty: the closet, the nightstand and all the other pieces of furniture were shoved to one side of the room, covered with a giant bedsheet. There were news papers scattered all over the ground, leaving no inch of the floor uncovered.

Zach himself was standing on a ladder, his back to me, but I saw the large paintbrush in his hand as he stroked it up and down the wall. The former grey colour got replaced with a soft shade of pastel blue.

I bit back a smile as I heard him sing along to the radio that was playing in the background, the lyrics to Shawn Mendes's Stitches falling flawlessly over his lips.

Leaning my shoulder against the doorframe, I watched him paint and listened to him sing, too focused to notice me.

Adoration shone brightly in my eyes, lips turning up into a loving smile. I made sure to never forgot how talented he was, but he still managed to blow me away every time with his voice. His looks. His smile. His everything, basically.

He put the brush down into the bucked of paint before climbing down the ladder. When he turned around and finally saw me, I could practically see him jump through the ceiling.

"Holy- what the- Jesus Christ," he blew out a harsh breath, clutching onto his heart as it almost burst out of his chest.

"No, it's really just me," I said, failing to stop myself from chuckling at the startled expression on his face.

He shook his head, releasing a harsh breath. "You scared the living shit out of me. How long have you been standing there?"

I walked up to him and placed my arms around his neck, tilting my head into an innocent smile. "A little while."

A blush formed on his cheeks. He tried to hide it by pecking my lips. "I hope you enjoyed the show then."

"I did very much," I chuckled, attempting to wipe the traces of paint off his face.

I stepped onto my toes to press a kiss to his lips and felt his hands wrap around my waist. "How are you?" I asked softly, leaning back to look at him.

He scanned my face up and down, tugging a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Right now I'm really good," he said with a sweet smile.

But he hadn't been before, I filtered out of his words. I could tell by his eyes, by the way he had been too lost in his own thoughts to notice me. And I was pretty sure it had something to do with the person this room originally belonged to.

He locked eyes with mine. "How are you?"

"I'm happy to see you," I said, meeting his smile. It was the truth, but at the same time it was a way to avoid telling him the whole truth: that my nightmares had been getting worse the past few days, that I got more scared for his father to come back every second he spent in this state, that I missed my best friends. That I missed the old me; the old times, when typical teenage struggles were the only thing I worried about. Nothing more, nothing less.