Susan Vandom felt the cool breeze that had been let in an open window that she'd left in her bedroom, and her eyes had adjusted by now to the darkness of such an early hour, as she leaned an aching back against a stable door frame which never complained of her weight. If she was ever to leave in the night, there would be no way for Susan to know, because the floor itself could not detect the signal to creak in Will's now hollowly presence. There was always the smell of dust, and Susan had emptied her daughter's room twice in the past weeks in attempt to erase it, but the disinfectant scent couldn't purge the uneasy feeling in her stomach; if at anything, the fact that there had been no complaint, and Will had only watched her room being rooted through with a brassy tone to her eyes of indifference. There had been something beautiful, which portrayed something magical of Will, and the girl had silently complained then - the carving slipping from Susan's fingers, and there was no word spoken as the door closed behind her, but a splinted heap lay deceased on the side walk below Will's bedroom... Then Susan had started finding it harder to sleep at night.
So she'd locked that window, and Will wasn't allowed to open it - not that Will asked. Not that Will asked for anything.
And then had come the walking. That was when she'd realized that the floor didn't respond to Will's footsteps against it, as if to shell as a constant remind of the fact that Will hadn't much liked any cooking Susan had done, but Will had eaten it. Whispers of air, that must have been her daughter's breath, and she'd only felt the chill until the fridge had opened, and Susan had given in to go looking. Thinking that some stranger might be in her house. She wasn't wrong. "I know you're watching me."
Susan swallowed at the hoarse voice, that rang clear in contrast to the sounds of some breeze breathing. It wasn't even as though Will was looking, but Susan blinked back a gentle sting to her eyes and a smile brushed peacefully; probably creating the image of a perfect mother, because Will would have to get up anyway. Her own voice was just as soft, though, because it was hard not to imitate such a loud girl, so quiet. It was hard not to let Will do what she wanted, because until Will was out of this house, Will Vandom was a mouse; a dimly made shadow. "Will, it's time for school."
It felt like someone had died. But just to prove her wrong, Will slid up and fumbled into a drawer, where everything lay tidily now, because Will was contented in sitting. She didn't need things. "I'm going to walk."
"Sure.. Will.." There was a reproachful moment, where Susan had often before inched forward to caress affectionate words of her love into her daughter, but something in the wind always made her step back, and she knotted finger around the door frame. "..Don't be late."
...
It had become apparent, when Taranee had attempted conversation that might be more in depth than a simple hello, that Nigel Ashcroft happened to live above Will on weekends and off days. His father had moved there, once his parents had split, and he'd mistaken the floor all those months ago. He'd assumed the bottom floor to be 'one'.
In all cases, the long shot had been bounced off course, the moment that her mother had driven up and forcefully removed her from the scene, but once every few mornings she'd smile as he passed, because she'd decided to meet Will on a day he'd stayed above. Today was one of the days, apparently, and her lips refused her inner plea not to curve into a glimmer of a smile at the corners - though, that might've been more to do with the fact that all thoughts had ceased, the moment a barely tanned hand had raised, and his fingers curled in a wave for which she was glad to know must have been for her. No one else was here. And she might wave some days, back, or grin others because sometimes he was just goofy and today she nodded in a small gesture, because her fingers had nodded around the straps of her woven ethnic backpack. "I thought you weren't walking with me anymore."
"Well, I thought I'd surprise you." Taranee tried not to regret, that Will had brought her to turn around, and forced a lazy grin over her dimly glowing cheeks. Not that Will would care, because Will only frowned at the light-hearted reply to what Taranee had supposed meant to sound threatening. It might have, to anyone else, but Will was only tired today - it was in the fact that Will's skin was doing a better job at being white than paper, and it was in the slightly throatiness in Will's dry tone. She didn't really walk this way for Will anyway, anymore. She wasn't going to deny it, and Will most certainly knew it. "I might as well walk with you."
The gaze was like steel, but Taranee refused to be afraid of Will this morning. Will had already ruined her day, and she was not going to scare her. Not when her mind rattled throughout the night with thoughts and images of Caleb, constantly in a state in Cornelia's mind. "You go ahead. I forgot something."