Here it is! The sequel to 24 Simple Notes. Hopefully this one doesn't take me 8 years to finish. For anyone out there who didn't read 24 Simple Notes or who doesn't feel like rereading it, I'm pretty sure this can be read alone. Of course, I think you should, but I'm also very biased. For context, Mal and Natara just graduated high school and Mal only just revealed himself as her secret admirer after 13 years.
The title may change somewhere in the future. It was honestly the biggest thing keeping me from posting this sooner, but I wanted to get it out there.
He sits in the attic, surrounded by boxes. Most of them are his sister's, all packed and ready to go with her to the new house. All but one of his are already in his car, waiting to go to his apartment. He's not too sure where he'll put all of them, but he can figure that out later. For now, he's content to sit there on the dusty floor, staring at the picture frame in his hand.
The photograph inside of it is old and faded, and to be honest he forgot about it a long time ago. It's reasonable, given that it's about twelve years old. He startles at the number. Has it really been twelve years? That can't be. There's no way it's been that long. But he knows it has. It's been twelve years since he saw the girl in the photograph.
"Mal!" his sister calls as she climbs the stairs to the attic. He hastily places the picture in the box by his side and stands, but not quick enough. Cynthia puts her hands on her hips and fixes him with a look. "I thought you were here to help me clean out the attic."
"I am," he says defensively. "I just found something interesting is all."
"Interesting how?" She strides over to him and reaches for the box. He takes half a step back, something that doesn't escape her notice. Before he can stop her, she pulls the picture back out. It only takes her a second to recognize the person.
"I remember her," she says as she taps the photo. "What was her name again? Natalie? No, Natasha?"
"Natara," Mal says, taking the photo back and putting it in the box once more.
"That's right!" Cynthia says, snapping her fingers. "What ever happened to her?"
"I don't know," he says. It's his biggest regret.
He traces his fingers over the spiderweb of cracks in the glass and reminisces.
