Recluse

By fabbb_nialler

19.1K 868 291

"Isn't it ironic? That the things we do To feel alive Can be the very same things That end up Killing us?"... More

Recluse
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Not a chapter but read this
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
!!!
Chapter 40
Chapter 41

Chapter 37

186 14 2
By fabbb_nialler

Why do hands get clammy when a person is nervous?

I've never understood it. How does ones emotions in any way correlate to how their limbs perspire?

There's probably some complicated scientific reasoning behind it. There's gotta be. There seems to be a complicated scientific reasoning behind every riddle in the universe.

Right now, all I can think about is the possible complicated reasoning for why Niall hasn't shown up yet.

I'm at the cemetery. It's Thursday. I'm here at the exact time he told me to come. I'm sitting at our spot, where we used to meet up once a week before we fell in love.

I did everything right. But he's not here. And my hands are clammy. 

I wipe my hands on my black jeans to attempt to dry them off.

I take a deep, steadying breathe. I shouldn't panic yet. He's only 20 minutes late. It's just an extra 20 minutes. He'll be here. There's a reason behind his lateness. He'll be here.

Funny thing is, I wait there for hours and he never comes. But I can't bring myself to give up and go home, even when I look at my phone and it reads 12 o clock.

Because if I give up and go home, that means he's actually not coming. And I'm not sure if I can handle that.

But eventually, I do. At 1:04, I give up.

My mom thinks I'm at Brett's. Brett thinks I'm sleeping somewhere with  Niall. Both of them are wrong. I'm now sleeping in my car with mascara running down my face like an oil spill polluting a vast ocean.

Every riddle in the universe has a complicated scientific reasoning behind it. But I can't think of a scientist in this world that would have an answer for this one.

(This is the shortest chapter I've ever written but I like it :) let me know what you think. I don't know if anybody still reads this story, but I don't care if anybody does or not. I write it for myself ;) do let me know what you think if you have an opinion though 💝) 

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