Stolen Voices ✓

January 21st

last chapter guys.

January 21st:

3 years later...

He is piling the familiar shelves, his hands accustomed to the action when she bursts through the glass door. His heart leaps out of his chest at the loud crash in noise. Followed by the muffled stomps of boots against the front carpets, the winter chinook breezing in a second later. He can hear the low whisper of her soothing voice talking to someone else. That familiar sound makes his pulse quickening, his brown eyes opening wide in recognition.

Has it been that long?

Time had gone by so fast that Elias can't even remember the last time he sat down for coffee, the last time he breathed functionally. A now-famous writer, whose book, Stolen Voices, gained lots of reputation and even won the National Book Award. The meaning behind it is a secret to everyone but him, a question he brushes off frequently.

The library had asked him to come back, who even had a poster of him hung proudly above the front desk, to read to young children. He'd done it with the excuse to come home, and maybe a piece of him had hoped to see her.

Though they ended their relationship shortly after he moved to New York, last he heard, she'd come back home, her mother falling ill. His love for her never dwindled, only succumbed to life. His published diary, in entries that are almost all consistent with the mystery girl whose crystal eyes are the expanse of the ocean.

He thinks about her, a lot even, but he's moved on with life as did she. The first thing he learned as an adult is that past flames are just that, past. Even ending a two-year-long relationship just a few months ago that would have gone somewhere had she not said his mind had been elsewhere for a while.

"We have to be quiet, so we don't get caught," he hears her low whisper, pushing himself against the shelves so she won't see him. Molding himself into its oak boards, his tongue-tied.

It is so casual, this feeling of his pulse quickening, his skin hot, that he has to cover his mouth, stifling the laughter that builds in his chest. Elias hasn't changed much over the years, filling out in some more places and growing his hair out a little, stubble forming on his chin. The white shirt, fitting a bit more snug, Elias still has that boyish charism to him.

"Hey baby, I think your books over here," he hears her voice again, its low vibrato sounding closer. She is walking towards him, the din of her heels clicking against the floor, softer ones trailing behind at a quicker pace.

"Mama, can I get many?" A young voice speaks.

Elias, surprised, sucks in the breath, which draws Mara's attention his way. Frozen in the aisle, her head, shooting towards where he hides. It is unmistakably Mara, considering she doesn't look much older, her eyes maybe a tad more jaded.

She had done well after Elias left, though she realized good didn't last eternally. Having another manic episode not long after they broke off whatever it was they had become. It had nothing to do with Elias, simply the wiring of her brain, it was then she realized it was a good decision she'd made, staying home.

She never wanted him to have to deal with her in that state, and she knew he would pick her over his internship, always. Elias had never learned to live without the help of another, and that's all she wanted from him. Though time had caught up with them, in a sense, she'd been glad it did. Because they needed to become adults to have an adult relationship, and they were still kids figuring it out at the time.

Now, twenty-two and with a child, she can say that she's matured with the help of her friends in California. Cairo and Ryn, who look out for her when she needs it.