Poisoned Waters | ✓

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫...

   𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄 the warm, Summer air, the passing breeze still managed to make Noah shiver. He readjusted his cross-legged position on the grass to be able to wrap his trench coat tighter around himself; he was at least pleased that the good weather had helped some greenery grow on the land of the deceased.

Noah was counting the days that had gone by without her. He was at one-hundred and sixty-six. Everyday without fail, he spent some time at her grave, wondering how that night could've been so different. If he'd been stronger, quicker, maybe he would've been able to pull out his gun and shoot West before he...

   He blinked a few times, finally drawing his eyes away from her grave and down at her fingerless gloves that he was wearing. He didn't want her to be buried with any of her everyday weapons and essentials, he didn't want to lose every bit of her. So he wore her gloves, constantly fiddling with the straps around the wrists like she had when nervous. Her blades also resided on his back, she'd taught him how to use them after their day together in the meadows. It all felt so long ago.

   It had taken a long while but, he'd finally gained the courage to enter his bedroom again after their final intimate moments. The sheets were still in disarray from their escapade, she'd left her belt that night, and her lingering scent still latched onto his clothes that he lended her. It was all wiped clean now. Five months seemed long enough for the high to finally fade.

He exhaled shakily, as his eyes brimmed with tears. He took comfort in investigating his mother's pistol, as he always did. He hadn't even noticed Zara's presence until she'd spoken up.

"You okay, Reid?" she smiled. His focus still remained on the weapon in his lap. He had barely uttered a word to most people after that night. It was difficult to get any words out after the successful battle strategy for Everwinter, but serious failure on keeping everyone he cared for and loved alive. It stung to think about, he hadn't said her name since—it was the last thing he said. Nobody knew the best way to help him cope. Not even his closest friends.

He was closed off, just like how he was when Zara had first met him.

   He shrugged faintly, "As good as I can get." His words held composure, as his lip trembled. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. "What's up?" he strained, glancing over at her briefly. She could see the glossiness of his eyes, but chose to ignore it.

   "Uh, well, Angelo is leaving today and he was hoping he could speak with you before he goes. Something to do with preparations with Sebastian." she explained.

"Okay." he nodded, his focus returning to her grave.

"You wanna walk together?" she offered. She assumed it would be best for him to just get a moment to pull his mind away from it. She wasn't sure if she'd seen him smile in so long. He raised his head attentively and quickly snapped back to her question.

"Oh, right now? Uh, sure." He took one more glance at her decorated flowerbed that he'd created recently with the flora he was growing in their greenhouse, before he pulled himself to his feet. Zara softly smiled and looped her arm through his, as she attempted to joyfully sway with him.

Zara didn't know the extent of their relationship, but it was safe to say that he really cared for her and this was hitting him hard. She could only try to cheer him up, so she grinned widely.

"Okay, why the fuck are you still wearing your coat, in Summer, bruv? You can't make me believe that man's not hot, when it's got to be like 24°C out here right now." she said hysterically.