Disclaimers: I do not own the 39 Clues.

10...

I should say something.

Time is precious, like gold. You told me that it's something that should never be wasted.

But I think silence is priceless.

So I let each second tick by, I let each one sink in deep. Each tick of the clock drips like honey, slow and smooth. I savor the sweet nectar of gold.

After all, there is nothing else that I can say.

9...

Your back is against mine.

I can feel your muscles relax and contract as you inhale, exhale with each breath you take. Your long hair tickles the back of my neck. I don't mind though.

You tremble slightly in the chilly November air. I should be a gentleman and offer you my jacket.

But I don't.

Because you are holding his coat. A soft leather one, it's nice but definitely not custom made in Italy, like mine is.

You let it drop onto the pavement.

8...

I'm not sorry for lying to you.

I'm not sorry for betraying you.

I'm not sorry for hurting you.

Because it shaped us.

You have become more confident and resilient. You peeled away from your shell of shyness; your inner self blossomed into a strong individual. You evolved into a capable character.

I have become less ruthless and arrogant. I learned to be independent. I cut the strings of the puppet and let my own mind take control.

But I am sorry for one thing: I am sorry for telling you that I love you.

You can never say the same back.

I understand.

7...

I remember how much you love stars.

Those summer night we spent on a blanket, gazing at the distant orbs. You always insist on the same spot by the cherry tree. The dots in the sky are something so far away, yet it is right in front of our eyes, ungraspable, unreachable.

Funny how that sounds like our relationship.

6...

You press your head into my shoulder. I can see your warm breath swirling into now freezing air, like a wisp of white fog.

You gently slide your hand into mine.

They're cold. My fingers wrap around your chilly skin.

I can feel your icy diamond ring dig into the palm of my left hand. The hard rock sinks into my flesh.

I hate that ring.

The round cut diamond on the silver band is gorgeous. I actually like the way it looks on you.

I just hate the fact that I am not the one to slip that onto your finger.

5...

Nobody disturbs the silence. There is no trace of wind. There is no rustling of the leaves.

It's like when you count the stars.

You lean on me, not making any noise. You mouth each number soundlessly.

There are too many for you to count. You know that, but you do it anyway.

Each time, your steady drone lures you asleep. You know you can never finish counting them.

You say the day you can count every star you see in the night sky is the day you stop loving me.

Tonight, you don't bother to look up.

Because there are none.

4...

If I am like any other normal person, I would be on my knees begging for forgiveness. I would be grabbing your hands pleading for you to stay. I would be narrating my love for you, pouring my heart out.

I don't. That is what the weak do.

I let the silence speak for me.

3...

I can feel you tremble. Your body shake, the friction of your cotton blouse against my wool coat heat my back.

You're not cold.

You try to muffle the sniffles by coughing. You bite your lip to prevent the moisture leaking.

I may lack a tad bit of common sense, but I don't need a genius to tell me.

You're crying.

2...

My hands are going numb because they are still gripping onto yours like glue.

You shift. I slowly loosen my clamp on your hands.

I can feel you pull yourself away from me.

I feel your back leave. I can feel each vertebrae peeling away from my spine.

Every move of your body, every turn of your muscles separate us. I hear you place your feet on the ground.

I feel the heat of your body evaporate from our previously touching backs.

I feel the one last reassuring squeeze of my hand.

1...

I hear every clack of your boots fade away.

I sit there until the echoes of your footsteps wither and die.

I sit until everything is silent.

I can't even hear my own heartbeat.

Because when you leave, you take my heart with you.

I count each step you take away from me, just like the way you count the stars.

A/N.

Hey. I hope you enjoyed it. I have a really hard time finishing stories that I start so I think I'll just stick to writing one-shots.

You can love it, you can hate it-fine with me. I write to improve and become better. After all, practice makes perfect.

I love angsty stories. I'm such a pessimist -.-"

If you didn't get it...

-This is in Ian's POV (It's written in second person)

-"You" refers to Amy

If you review and tell me how you like it, I may consider writing this in Amy's POV. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

M