I Dont Burn Calories I Burn Bridges

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"Guys?" Giorno stood before the doorway to her room. As the dawn of a new day rose, it bathed (Y/N)'s room in a golden light, the chill air sending a wave of goosebumps up his arms as he trudged towards the open window. "She's gone."

"Gone?" What do you mean gone?" She had asked to be alone for a while, and the wanted to respect her wishes, but when GIorno walked by after coming downstairs, he didn't find a single trace of a soul in there, not (Y/N)'s anyway. The bed had a pillow stuffed under it, as if anyone was dumb enough to fall for that, but what concerned Trish was the fact that she didn't say anything, nor leave behind a note to explain her sudden disappearance. "Did she jump out the window? No way, we would have seen something!"

"What's going on?" Abbacchio and Bruno entered. As they were all on the same floor, minus Giorno, at least one of them should have seen her from the window, right? Did she leave through the front door instead? Her room was quiet all day, they should have realized she was up to something. "Ask the others if they've seen her today, I'll use Moody blues to figure out what happened."

"Right." Trish nodded, pausing at the door to watch Moody Blues peel away from it's master, the timer dialing back an hour, then two and three and more. She gripped the door before leaving the three behind to search for her.

Giorno grabbed his braid, meddling with the clear elastic that she put in herself. The timing was just off. He shouldn't have been so at ease just because he thought everything would be okay after that day. Glancing at the timepiece embedded in the stand's forehead, the numbers continued to climb, until the dead of night, several hours ago. A familiar face stood in front of the window, hair flickering from the cool wind that tickled her skin. "Close the window, the stand is reacting to the wind."

Bruno shut it, turning his attention to wherever she was staring. What was she looking it? What was she thinking of? Her expression looked troubled, no, troubled wasn't the right word, unsettled. As if something just wasn't right. Was there something outside during that time? He glanced at her once more, focusing on those (E/C) eyes of hers. It was still odd to see her with both, without an eyepatch or without bloody tears. Paused in time, where was she looking? Right ahead, eyes focused as if on something in front of her. "Wait. This is during the night."

"Yea?" Abbacchio hadn't played her movements yet, simply trying to a few minutes before she left. "What about it?"

"It would have been dark. I don't think she's looking outside, I think she's looking at her reflection." Her eyes, dilated as they were, would see her reflection much easier than before. And with a snap of the Don's fingers, the sun was blocked by a swarm of bees. "Alright, play it now, Abbacchio."

With a click of a phone, they watched her linger there, staring at herself with a sense of disgust. A hand reached out to touch the window, as it trying to reach for something beyond it. In a soft whisper, they had to replay her voice one more time. "What the fuck is this? What the fuck is this?"

-+-

An old friend, a close friend, perhaps even a best friend. It was something (Y/N) couldn't have, yet she so desperately wanted. From the hundreds met and dozens remembered, they all slipped through her fingers like grains of sand. Perhaps if they didn't forget her, she wouldn't have met so many wonderful people, befriended all of them and learn their stories, but that doesn't excuse anything. She was still so alone, so afraid. She wasn't allowed to have close relationships, She wasn't allowed to be anything but temporary, a temporary existence, someone who would sooner be forgotten than loved. But there was one friend who really did care for her, someone as broken as her, who just wanted a friend like her.

Walking in the halls of her old boarding school, she reminisced on the things that barely changed, the field, the trees, everything was just as it was almost two years prior. Sure, it had only been a little while, but it truly felt like a lot longer than it should have. But she wasn't looking for nostalgia, she was looking for a certain red haired girl, who should have been nineteen and in her last year of high school. Approaching a group of students, she flashed them a friendly smile. "Hi, have any of you seen Amelia?"

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