64 Pack of Juniper

Prologue*

Prologue;

Written to 'Cry' by Cigarettes After Sex

A gentle knock at the door interrupted the blank, thoughtless stare she'd trapped herself in. Juniper had just finished having a shower, a place she'd previously had to be ripped out of because of how much time she would spend inside. It was her escape from the real world, an escape she'd enjoyed. Now, it was the most stalled part of her night. The warm water beating against her skin was no longer pleasurable. She dreaded showering, as it encompassed the most agonizing fifteen minutes in a silent room with the loudest thoughts and the biggest emotions. There was no escape there anymore and in fact, it felt more like prison. She was currently sitting in the triangle made by the fold of her comforter, with one leg tucked underneath her and the other dangling off of her bed. She strangled a pillow with her arms, hands clasped on the other side of it as the case was getting drenched with droplets from her hair. Her gaze upon a lone hair tie out of reach on the floor lifted to the handle of the door as she called out for the uninvited guest to reveal themself.

Beck would be working at this time, Love had a date planned with Josh. Though it very well could've been Hayden, he was probably off making his situationship cry... again. Bale was most likely taking his routine cat nap. She wasn't expecting her visitor to be Bale's brother, but here he was. His head peaked around the door cautiously and their eyes met. Typically, Abel would be wearing a toothy smile and offering Juniper a greeting of sorts in correlation with her name. It was Tuesday, so if not under the circumstances they were under, she'd been expecting 'Junie Moonie' or 'June Bug'. She was happy to see him, despite the lack of an enthusiastic acknowledgement. Usually, she couldn't contain her own grin when he was around, but the thick air he'd dragged into her apartment with him didn't welcome one. Compared to Juniper, Abel appeared unaffected by what had transpired. Unphased and untouched by the common effects of this form of despair; like he'd gotten the same amount of sleep, like he hadn't missed a meal, like he still enjoyed his showers. He didn't appear to be neglecting any aspect of his life, or straying even the slightest from his routines. It was almost like Juniper had never been a part of them... as if her absence didn't disturb them at all. "Here's your stuff." She hadn't invited him to enter but he did.

Once he revealed himself from behind the door, the large box in his hands was hardly noticeable. It was full of familiar items that had once made a home inside of his childhood bedroom, at some point in his college dorm, and before her apartment, his. Familiar items she never thought she would be given back- familiar items that she didn't want back. Juniper couldn't find the right words to say, but found contentment in no response. What was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to thank him? "Figured you'd want them back." Well, I didn't. But returning them was kinder than burning them, she supposed. And much kinder than the break up text he'd sent after eight years of being together. She wouldn't unpack the box. She didn't have a box for him. Did he want his stuff back? Was he implying that? He placed her box down as gently as he had knocked and shoved his hands into his pockets- a place he never used to keep them. He stared at Juniper, seemingly waiting for that 'thank you' she wasn't going to give him, but his continued eye contact told her gratitude wasn't what was prolonging his stay. 

Juniper assumed he may have been waiting for the crying and begging but Abel hated it when she cried, or anyone for that matter, and he didn't care for begging. He was or he wasn't and the first answer he gave could rarely be negotiated. So no, he wasn't waiting for that. He knew she had something to say. She did. Well, rather a question to ask. But she told herself not to ask. She would. Juniper needed to know the answer. She didn't, but she convinced herself she needed closure. After chewing her bottom lip to its flesh and thirty seconds of contemplation, she asked. "Are you going to be happier ... without me?" she couldn't look at him for the answer and opted for trapping that hair tie back into her sights. She wasn't sure what she wanted the answer to be or what she thought it might be, but she wasn't expecting him to say "I think so."