It was the nights that were the hardest.
That's when the pain was the worst, when the wound once again ripped open.
During the day, Magnus was fine. During the day, he was strong. He could fill every moment with something to do.
Night was different.
Night was quiet and lonely.
He would go to bed and reach out for Julia's warmth, only to find cold sheets.
He'd wake in the darkness for any number of reasons, expecting to hear Julia's breathing shift, or her to sleepily mumble a question, but all that greeted him was quiet.
Magnus hated the night. The dark and quiet and loneliness. It was when his mind would wander, playing and replaying memories and thoughts.
He missed Julia during the day too, the wound throbbing, but he could dull it. He could drink, he could move, he could escape the pain.
He couldn't at night. Night was when the thoughts descended with a weight they didn't have during the day. They crept around his defenses and once again tore the wound.
He knew it would eventually fade. It wouldn't hurt so much someday. But right now, his heart was torn in two and his very soul cried out.
He missed Julia.
And for now, he hated the darkness. Hated the night.
Hated the loneliness.
It was the nights that were the hardest.
I have ideas for more chapters. Just let me know.