Edward could barely keep the time, but he knew that this moment was rapidly approaching … the third night was alcohol numbed the feeling of pain in his broken hand, but yet it had not numbed the memories or the pain that came with them. The last feeling in her body still laid arrest in Edwards fingertips. Her body was so cold, so unlike Mary.
Her life was something that Edward thought was always going to be there; her touch, her smile, the way she looked at him. Now it was gone. He could still hear her voice ring in his ear. That had brought him the must comfort in the last three nights. There had been many women that he fond memories of, but none of them had come close to her. She was so much different, she loved him for more than what he was.
The bartender slid over to the blond, cleaning off a glass rotating it in his hand with ease and delicacy, "You need to go home Kenway." He spoke with a somber voice, resting a hand on Edwards. Edward only looked up, frustration in him eyes. He hated when people felt sorry for him. Why should they feel sorry? He had lost loved ones before, he should be use to this.
"What's that suppose to mean?" A spark of slight anger came to Edwards lips as he sipped up the last bit of beer at the bottom of the bottle.
"I'm cutting up off. Now get home."
Edward didn't even respond to the man. With all the power that he had left in his body he moved up from his bar stool placing the money that he owed on the table, leaving promptly out door.
The only light that was welcome in the dark street was the brightness of the street lights, so much like Mary, she had been one of the few bright things that he had left after all his friends had betrayed him. A ribbon of fabric laced in between his fingers as he creeped slowly down the avenue. It smelled just like her.
When he arrived at the apartment building for which he lived, it took most of his strength to walk the steps that she had only walked down days before. He could hear the screams, he could fell her pain. He wanted to be with her.
Tears streaked his cheek, his hand trembling as he open the door to the small cluttered room that laid out in front of him.
"Fancy seeing you here Kenway."
"Why wouldn't you see me here, it's my own damn apartment?" He said out of instinct, not even bothering to look around to see where the husky voice had echoed from, or who it had belonged to.
"What's with sour face? Rackham beat you at fancy football this week again? I told you to pick Peyton Manning." A small girl chuckled.
Edward didn't even want to turn around to the voice, the disappointment would have been to much. But, he forced himself to turn around anyway.
"Mary… " He choked, looking over at the darken figure on the couch. Edward flipped the light switch on making sure that he could prove that the figure was her, and it was.
It only took seconds for him to slip over to her, stroking his hand over her cheek in such delicate manor as if she would brake any second.
"You couldn't get rid of me that easy Kenway."