this love • gracie abrams

009 drenched in navy blue

CHAPTER NINE
drenched in navy blue
•

JUDE tried to talk to her on the ride home, but charlotte said absolutely nothing. she just stared out the window all the way home, getting out the car and slamming the door behind her as she entered her apartment and wearily stumbled into her bathroom. she wasn't even drunk but she felt lightheaded. she gripped the counter and squeezed her eyes shut before bursting into tears after being silent for a solid thirty minutes.

she was feeling about a million things, every possible emotion running through her, but mainly loss. she was grieving a loss though no one had died. grieving the loss of her picture perfect family was really the cherry on top of grieving the loss of her relationship with gracie. the tears and cries she let out were as if she just walked into a murder, horrific and so loud the cats had scurried away to the living room.

she raised her head and and stared at her reflection. looking at the worthless and unlovable person she saw, just before slamming her fist forward right into the mirror with all of her strength. the glass shattered and littered her counter and sink, shards stuck in her bleeding knuckles. she dropped her hand and let it drip crimson to the floor while she stared at her broken reflection.

"fuck," she managed to say in between a gasp of anguish and misery. she looked down at the sink and broken glass before walking away and shutting the door, heading straight for her kitchen.

her fist stung, but not as much as her heart after leaving her parents house. so, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey and opened it up — not usually her drink of choice but lily left it behind from some time and she decided she might as well.

she slid down to the floor, staring at her bleeding hand as she knocking back some of the bottle. she couldn't stop crying and it was driving her insane. hysterically sobbing seemed to be a big part of her this year, though she despised how pathetic it made her feel. especially when she's crying over fighting with a girl who refuses to want her or the man and woman who couldn't stand her for who she is. really, she should give a fuck less about them but in her position, that was an impossibly hard bar to reach. she's already been dragged to the bottom, and now she's digging a deeper hole that's so narrow she can't crawl out.

she grabbed her phone and went to photos, scrolling through the album with photos of her and her dad, starting from baby pictures her mom had sent her to their final moment as a real family before she met gracie.

she clicked on a video, her phone lighting up with the clip of her when she was about three years old, up on her dads shoulders as he ran around central park. she was giggling even as he put her down, asking for him to pick her back up. he then picked up jude, holding him upside down in his arms and making him laugh.

'careful, johnathan,' she heard her mom laugh from behind the camera.

'i got him,' johnathan laughed, throwing jude over his shoulder and then bending down to charlotte.

'up up!' charlotte shouted with her little arms raised up.

her dad scooped her up and threw her over his other shoulder, placing a hand on each of his kids backs to stabilize them as he spinned around, making rocket noises.

'whoosh!' he said. 'jude what superhero are you?'

'iron man!' jude shouted. their dad faked a frown, given that he worked on a few DC movies and not marvel ones.

'charlotte, what superhero are you?'

'rapunzel!'

'close enough,' her dad shrugged. 'who do you love the most, sweetie?'