The sun had left the sky only a few moments before the rain started to fall. It touched the glass of the window in Victor's study, sliding down, caressing the surface. The house was quiet except for a few creaks of the floorboards as Victoria walked through the rooms downstairs.
Victor busied himself with scribbling in a notebook. He wasn't paying much attention and the quill in his hand slid off of the page, the tip breaking against the wood of the desk. He looked down at the quill. Black ink seeped into the crevices of his skin.
A knock on the door.
Twisting around in his chair, he rested an arm on the back of it, his fingers lightly touching the corner. Victor cleared his throat and said, "Come in."
The knob turned and Victoria appeared on the other side of the door. A cup and saucer was held steadily in her right hand, the other hand pressed uncomfortably at her side.
"I thought that you might like some tea," she said, barely above a whisper. She lifted the teacup in her hand. Victor could see steam rolling into the air, evaporating into the cold.
Getting up from the chair, he walked towards her. Their hands touched as he took the saucer from her.
"Thank you," he said, holding the saucer in one hand and holding the handle of the teacup in another. He raised his eyebrows slightly when she didn't turn around and leave immediately like she usually did.
"I…" she started. She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly together in front of her. "I am sorry I did not go to your father's funeral."
Surprised, Victor said, "No, no. It is all right. I understood why you – "
"No!" Victoria cried, taking a step away from him. She put her hands to her ears, trying to block out what he was trying to say. Whispering, she continued, "No. I do not want you to say it."
"I wasn't – I wasn't going to say anything like that," he said, setting the tea down on a nearby shelf. "But…but we shouldn't avoid…"
"It doesn't matter," she said, quickly wiping away a stray tear. Her cheeks were flushed and the knuckles of her pale hands burned red. "There is your tea and now – "
"Wait! You can't…how can you do this? How can we go on doing this? You sit in that living room every day. Right next to what would have been her room. Charlotte's…"
Victoria's lip quivered. Taking in a ragged breath, she looked beyond Victor's shoulder, out towards the rain and the dark. It was cold outside and it pressed in around them, the house giving little shelter. Exhaling quietly, she sniffed and wiped at the edges of her eyes.
"I found your drawing book. With the butterflies, Victor," she whispered, looking back into his eyes. "Why?"
Looking down at the hem of her dress, Victor felt numb. His fingers twitched against the side of his coat. He could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. The rain splattered against the window, the wind picking up and howling. He blinked. He felt his lips form the words "I do not love you" and he knew that he had said it. It was as if he was very far away. Victor thought himself as being a raindrop in the black sky, falling to his end.
Her eyes were red. Veins creeping in from the edges of her eye and pointing at the pupil. She let out a long sigh and nodded her head. Her face relaxed, she almost looked relieved. "At least we can agree on something."
She was gone before Victor even noticed her turning around. The floorboards whined underneath her feet as she slowly walked away down the stairs. The steam had stopped rising from the teacup, the liquid had turned cold.
His throat was dry and he swallowed nothing but air. He blinked.
The front door closed behind him, he could feel the rain on the top of his head. He didn't wear a coat or a scarf. The umbrella lay forgotten on the floor in the hallway. His feet took him passed a few houses, their occupants talking to each other. Laughter muffled by the walls and windows.
There was a loud noise slowly registering in Victor's mind as he walked. He could see only black and rain. Cold pierced his skin. He could hear rushing water somewhere.
Stumbling over nothing but his own feet, Victor fell forward. When the ground did not meet him immediately, he looked around him. He was falling down into something. He could see a large walkway above him and he felt encased. Dragging down lower into the river, he let out a gasp, only taking in water. It was cold and his throat clenched in pain.
And then everything went black.