47

Chapter 64

-Ten Years Later-

BRRR.
BRRR.
BRRR.

Goddammit.

I rolled over, my quirk lighting up at how quickly I brought my hand down atop the alarm. It shattered, creating a loud crashing sound as screws and springs flew from under my hand.

October fifteenth... I fucking hate October fifteenth.

I stretched out, grabbing the headboard as I listened to my bones pop with my stretching. My body still aches from that battle just two days ago. I couldn't help but sigh softly... I'm getting old.

My eyes fluttered, trying to adjust to the blinding sunlight protruding from the window across the room. I rolled my shoulders out, sitting myself up as I dangled my feet over the side of the bed. No matter how many nights my warm body spent sleeping in this bed, it was always so fucking cold.

I held my hand up, trying to deflect the bright white rays beating directly onto my face as it tried to warm my skin with the wakening day.

Six AM... I never changed the alarm. I didn't need to wake up this early anymore; I didn't want to, but... I can't bring myself to touch anything of his.

He'd set it so we could wake up and hang all over each other in the mornings- watch the sunrise from the window he had specifically placed just for his wife's pleasure. That boy lived for the mornings he woke up to his coffee and his wife hanging all over him. Pink cheeks and murmurings of good mornings between lingering and sleepy kisses. The two of us intertwined down to every limb as we rolled around in the comforters, giggling at how in love we were.

I fucking hate sunrises now.

Angrily, I marched over to the window and ripped the curtains closed.

That's the first time they've ever been closed.

This room was cold. It was gray, and it was too big. This room used to be so loving... obvious signs of a living and happy couple once written across every inch of these walls.

Now? All that was left was a single person too bitter with life to even function.

I grit my teeth, digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands so roughly that I thought I was going to start bleeding. I was digging at scabs that had been embedded into my palms for months...

I couldn't stop... this was the only way I felt something.

I made my way for the door, breathing deeply as I tried to pry myself out of my mind and focus on getting through the day. Today was just... well I just fucking hate October fifteenth.

As soon as I opened the door, I was met with the bathroom door across from me. The handle was moving; meaning somebody was about to exit. I sighed, crossing my arms as I leaned against the doorframe to my bedroom; waiting to greet the person muttering in curse words behind the door.

As soon as the door swung up, a mass of steam filtered out of the bathroom and into the hallway. I could see over their shoulder that the window had been fogged up... water still dripping from the showerhead at the other end of the room.

With a toothbrush hanging between his white teeth, I was met with a soft curl of his lips. His muscles were bulging; telling me that once again, he hadn't slept at all. Too much in his mind to sleep a blink. Instead, spending his entire night doing push-ups and sit-ups.

There was water rolling down his scarred and tattooed arms; rolling off his chest that was littered with deep, pink wounds. He had an undercut now, water still holding the soft hair down against his forehead as it refused to stand straight up and spiky as it did when dry. He scoffed, shaking out his hair and gripping the towel wound loosely around his hips.