Nothing ever happened in the simple town of his. At least, not in the last few years he had been gone. After completing his own travels around the world, he returned to a lonely studio apartment above a local coffee shop; just far enough from town to be peaceful and hidden from tourists. He smiled softly when entering the untouched space, welcoming the faint smell of coffee beans and paint. His bags were set down by the closed industrial door as he occupied himself with opening up all the windows; letting out the heady fumes accumulated by the paint cans that littered nearly every nook and cranny in the apartment. Sunlight streamed in, happy to cover the entire space by warmth and light. Unframed pictures and empty mason jars littered the space and collected a film of dust on their surfaces. He missed his home, and the familiar quiet of his flat let him know he was welcome to fill it with noise.
A soft beep came from the corner of the room, and a red number flashed on the voicemail machine. Ninety three messages from the past two years, it was more than he anticipated but began listening to them anyways. The first few messages were of his mother, rambling on about how she missed him and so on. Others were telemarketers selling timeshares and unnecessary necessities. The rest of them came from the same person who he had left his home in hopes of forgetting; to try and find a way to console the pain that stuffed itself in between the cracks of his ribs. In a sense it did. A hurt was dulled to a soft pang in his chest every time he heard a Chase Coy song, or when someone mentioned the way lavender smelled in the summer. In his mind, he was completely fixed.
Before he left, he was green to the world and all that went on in it. In the time span of two years he had grown. He stood taller with his shoulders set square and his back straighter. He had forgotten the pain that accumulated in between the cracks in his ribs and solidified like concrete. He learned to live with the hurt of the past and felt he had moved past it. But he had relapsed and found himself dangerously close to the edge of a cliff he was ready to fall off once again.
A soft knock at his door brought him out of his thoughts and had him heading towards the door. He looked through the peep hole and stood back to take a deep breath. A second knock came and caused his strong heart to beat loudly in his ears. His fingertips warmed the door knob as he stood perfectly still and debated opening the door. He didn't need to see anyone now, right? He could pretend he wasn't home. A third knock came and a heavy sigh left his lips as he opened the door reluctantly.
"Hey, Connor."
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(A/N) Hey guys! This is the start of my second story on here, and I'm excited to start posting. I'll try to update as frequently as possible. Don't worry about 'Misplaced Fire', the next chapter is nearly done. Until next time!