PROLOGUE:

"Everything is just so… different right now. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. Things are going downhill, and people are bound to figure it out eventually. I-"

"Shh…" he whispers. "I promise you. No one will know. No one will ever know."


He had that infectious grin, that glistening smile that gave her butterflies. Her stomach flipped as his lips neared hers, creating little space between the two. Their lips met. His lips tasted of chocolate and those warm summer days where she would lay in the grass and look up at the sky, imaging shapes in the clouds. The kiss brought her memories; memories she wished she could discard. Memories of that time where she was frail and weak, susceptible to poor judgement. For his lips reminded her of him. Of his lips. His touch. His warmth. His love for her.

One thought constantly nagged her: did she love this boy because he was so similar to him? He had the same confident smirk, same kind eyes, same smile. Was this why she fell for the boy? She felt as if she was cracking from the inside out, as if at one moment, every part of her would shatter into a thousand pieces.

She couldn't risk that.

But she forgot her worries as he kissed her deeply. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close so that the only space between them was when their lips broke apart. He continued to kiss her, and she tried to enjoy it. She did enjoy it. But was it for the right reasons? Or did she enjoy it because this boy reminded her of the old?

She pushed him away, keeping her hands planted on his muscular chest.

"What's wrong?" he asked, frowning. He was clearly agitated their kissing had ceased.

"I can't do this right now," she lied. "I… I have homework."

He frowned, but relented. "Fine. But I'll be thinking of you." He pulled her in for one last kiss as she took off to her room.

She buried her face into her hands so as not to let anyone see her tear stained face. She continued to scamper up the stairs to her solitary room where she could be alone.

She cautiously raised her head from her hands to scan her surroundings. No one was around to see her; she creaked open her door and flung herself onto her bed. And cried. And cried.

She shakily pried open her drawer to her nightstand and pulled out the book. The book he gave her. As she read her old writing, tears fell onto the tattered pages causing the ink to bleed.

Good, she thought. Now no one will ever be able to read this. No one will ever know.

As she the last sentence, her eyes clouded again. That was what he said to her on their final night. The night he disappeared forever.