My Immortal Heart
Nothing
In the absence of the light, he weeps. Great drops of dark liquid drip down his face. There is no pain greater. The bed is imprinted still from where she lay just a few hours ago. Where she doesn't lay anymore. He glances at the clock, it reads 4:02 a.m., time should have stopped, it should have stopped once she left. Yet, it didn't, so he lays there, in her imprint, well into the morning light.
The hardest part is knowing that when he gets up, he has to fake a smile.
He glances at the clock again, it now reads 8:27, he knows he needs to be up, training, joking with Isabelle and taunting Alec, but he can't bring himself to do it. Laying there for a few more minutes he finally drags himself out of the bed and into the shower. He's numb. So, so numb. Standing in the shower, with the water pouring down on him like a waterfall, his golden hair dulled, he contemplates. When did it all go wrong? When did he start drifting from the most important thing in his life?
He can't remember.
Everything was fine, completely fine. Life had a routine to it. Wake up, shower, eat, train, and hunt. All with her. She was in virtually every aspect of his life. Nothing had been out of the ordinary, nothing had been different, it was all simple, routine. No surprises. Except for this one
The surprise of his life.
He looks at his hands, they've pruned. He's been in the shower too long, he steps out, not bothering with a towel, the instant shock of cold breaks the numbness, sweet, sweet relief from the cloud of pain that had been hovering since she left. He feels again, even if it's just for a moment. He grabs a towel, not wanting to get sick, which would be the icing on the cake. Drying himself off, the cloud of numbness slowly seeps its way back in. He loved her, he loved her with his whole being, and she left. Just left. Like none of it mattered. Like the kiss on the garden roof didn't matter, like all of the tension when they thought they were related meant nothing. Like he was nothing.
He dresses, white shirt and jeans. Nothing special. Staring into the mirror he practices his fake smile, and his lie. She's just at Luke's, I'm fine, we're fine. There is absolutely nothing wrong. Fake smile plastered on to his angel face, not noticing the dullness of his golden eyes, he walks out of the room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen.
His whole family sits there, smiling and laughing. They don't know, they don't know that his whole world just ended, that all of his life and dreams and hopes vanished when she did. But they don't know. They are completely clueless.
Isabelle, as always is attempting to create something edible. Smiling she sets down a plate of some unknown substance that should have been pancakes. He grimaces through the façade, the perfect mask. Perfect boy, perfect mask, perfect family, failing life. He takes a bite and shudders, it's horrible as always, and Izzy knows he hates it too. She sighs and takes the plate from him, still full of the not-pancakes.
Normal people eat, he realizes, he needs to eat something edible, if he wants to keep up the mask.
Something simple. He looks around, nothing, there is nothing. He opens the fridge, and sees apples. He grabs one, takes a bite, nods his head to his family, and walks out again. Nothing out of the ordinary, not here, not with them. He can only take so much happiness, so much before he explodes.
He pitches the barely eaten apple into the trash can. Not able to bring himself to take one more bite. More hallways, more walking, more numbness. He finds himself in the training room, subconscious not able to let him give up his routine so suddenly. Gear on he begins training. Kicks, slashes, punches, anything, everything, so swift and sudden, so much anger. The training dummy can't keep up, and in one final slash from his knife it bursts open in a cloud of canvas. Snarling he attacks another one, and another one, all leaving the same fabric-y mess the first one left behind. 10 minutes later, there is nothing. No dummies, no more training to be done. His anger having propelled what should've been an hour session into a fifteen minute one.
The memories flood back suddenly, her laughing as she misses her knife throwing mark by feet, smiling as he teaches her tucks and rolls. The face she makes when she's concentrating, her eyes sparkling when she gets something right. It all comes back so suddenly that his knees hit the floor and his face falls into his hands.
The door creaks open, he looks up, Isabelle is standing there. Her eyes go wide when she notices the mess that has been made of the training room.
"Jace… what's wrong? What happened?"
"Nothing."