18+

XXIX

Charlie is in LA. Has been now for the past week.

The house is never silent, even when I'm alone. It creaks and moves with the wind, alive in its own way, more alive than me at the moment.

Today it's raining, and the dull roar of raindrops against glass fills me with a sense of peace that I haven't felt in a while.

I let myself look at him today.

He was sitting with his friends, and her, but he was elsewhere, vacant. His arms were crossed on the table in front of him, his long fingers playing with a straw as he ignored the people around him.

She was trying to talk to him, but he wasn't listening, wasn't there, his green eyes unfocused, bloodshot.

I think he's miserable.

I think he misses me.

But I can't think like that.

There's a knock at my front door and I sigh, pulling myself off the couch and walking up to it.

I fling it open, expecting Alice and Jasper, or Rose and Emmett, another attempt to drag me out.

But it's him.

He stands there, shivering, dripping water.

Without saying a word, I step aside, and he walks into my house.