Title: Paint Cracks

Author: WildCherry45

Notes: Inspired by fitch05's Shades of Beauty.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.. never have, never will. WB & Company own all. Sum 41 own the lyrics below.

"This place is so empty. My thoughts are so tempting. I don't know how it got so bad. Sometimes it's so crazy that nothing can save me but it's the only thing that I have." – Sum 41

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There were nine cracks in the paint on the white ceiling looming above her. The first four had been painfully noticeable and easy to catch, the rest were only found after careful scrutiny and with squinted eyes. It should've been depressing on some level to find that many cracks in her ceiling. After all, they had just only moved in a few months ago and the paint, she had assumed, was freshly painted. Should it have cracked so soon and so easily?

Haley sighed softly as she dug her fingers into the mattress, her brown eyes scanning her ceiling again, adding onto the countless numbers of time before. She had been lying on their bed for the past hour, waiting patiently for him to say something to her, to look at her or even make some sort of gesture to acknowledge that she was even in the same house as him. He had not done anything of that sort, however. He remained in the dark bathroom whose door was swung wide open, taunting and mocking her.

She bit her lower lip and wiped the dried tear stains from her cheeks. She had finally stopped crying after she found the third paint crack. Her eyes had been too blurry and watery for her to commence with her scavenger hunt of sorts and so she forced herself to hold back the tears. After the seventh crack, she found that there were no more tears anyhow. She had cried enough in the past few hours to last her an entire lifetime. No, she ceded to herself, she had not. She had not cried enough for if she did, her cries of pain would've lured Nathan out of the bathroom by now and he would've been by her side, wrapping his strong arms around her and whispering words of sweetness.

That was what was supposed to happen now, she had thought. When she stepped through the door of their cold and unusually dank apartment, she had expected… something. It would've been presumptuous of her to expect him to be smiling or even welcoming but she thought he would at least respond to her, recognize her, slap her, yell at her… do something towards her to let her know that she still meant something to him.

There was no connection between them now; she could not even rely on hatred or anger. All that was between them was a co-existence in the same space and a bond of marriage declared by a flimsy piece of paper.

Haley sat up silently, her eyes beginning to water once again as she looked towards the bathroom. He was sitting on the toilet seat now, his head buried in between his arms, his entire body unnervingly silent. She studied him quietly before she swallowed hard, her throat parched from dehydration. She licked her chapped lips and pushed her hair out of her face. With weak arms, she crawled off the bed and pushed herself onto her feet. Stumbling for a moment, she walked out of the room, unable to break her gaze from the dark scene of the bathroom until the walls of the hall shielded her view.

Her kitchen no longer held the homey feeling that it once did. It all seemed unfamiliar to her now and as she opened the cabinet, she felt as if she was intruding upon a world that she didn't belong. She grabbed a tea bag and ripped open the packaging, her hands trembling as she coldness surrounded her. She leaned over the counter and flipped on the light switch. The light that poured into the room did cause comfort to fill her. Instead she could feel her blood cooling as she turned on the stove to boil the water. She leaned against the counter, the coldness of the wood shocking her as it met her exposed skin. She hurriedly pulled down her shirt as she surveyed the kitchen.

It didn't look any different. Everything was exactly as she left it this morning. Her fingertips traveled over the table, it was still impeccably clean. Her feet padded against the tile of the floor until it met the carpet of the living room. She frowned as she saw what lay beneath the table- rose petals.

Two rose petals fallen from the rose which lied only a few feet away from the petals. She grabbed the rose with furrowed eyebrows and picked the scarlet petals up from the floor, refusing to acknowledge the symbolism in the red staining the cream carpet. She looked up and there in front of her, in the middle of the living room was a candlelit dinner set for two. She felt the air escape from her lungs as she began to shake her head in denial. She walked across the carpet floor quickly, looking at the simple meal laid out in front of her. It was so simple and beautiful at the same time. She lifted up the metal lid and the familiar scent of macaroni and cheese filled her nose. She resisted the urge to laugh as the stupidity of her actions and seriousness of their entire situation hit her.

What the hell had she done?

Her grip on the rose tightened. One of the thorns embedded itself in her finger. She looked down at her hand, eerily entranced as she watched the blood gush from her finger. The pain did not sting her hand, however, it aimed itself directly at her heart as she hurriedly put the rose back into its glass vase. She wrapped her shirt around her finger as she rushed back into their bedroom, her mind playing over all the things she was about to say.

She didn't know what was going to come pouring out of her mouth exactly, nothing particularly eloquent, this she knew but it would be something. It would be a step towards recovery. She knew that she would say whatever she had to say and do whatever she had to do to get back to where they were. She sniffled loudly as the thorn lodged itself further and further into her heart. God, what did she do? How could she even think about leaving him?

Shaking off her delirious thoughts, she ran into the bedroom, practically falling into the bathroom as the words spilled from her lips, "I'm so sorry, Nathan."

The bathroom was empty and the only sound that filled the vacant darkness was the repetitive beating of the rain from the open window.

Haley paused for a moment, her hands falling to her sides, the blood from her finger gathering at the tip before dropping onto the floor. The scene elicited no further reaction from her as she turned around and walked back into the living room.

Sobs did not wrack her body nor did tears of pain begin to pour from her eyes. Her body remained in a stoic state as she walked towards the table in the living room. The dim fire of the candles burned in the reflection in her eyes as she leaned down and softly, blew them out.

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