Meet Kristal Jane Anderson.
The girl that feels as though she was stripped from all the joys of life on one ungodly night. A night that changed her whole perspective on love forever, a night in which she stopped believing in it's existence, a night...
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Kristal Anderson
I slammed my laptop shut and got out of bed, sliding into my sleepers. My body moved faster than my brain could process what I was doing.
All I knew was that I needed to see him.
I ripped my light pink silk robe off the hanger and threw it on over my nightgown, tying a lazy bow as I rushed to my window. I pushed my curtains aside and then my window was next.
The air was cool and crisp against my skin but I paid it no attention. My body was working on autopilot and I made no effort to stop it or even slow my actions. Aiden consumed my every thought in that moment.
I needed to see him. To hug him. To reassure him that it got better.
Adrenaline and something else– something so powerful, something that ran so deep within– ran through my veins making it almost like an out of body experience that pushed me to do the unthinkable.
I sat on my windowsill, my legs dangling off the edge. Without giving myself another second to reconsider it, I forced myself off the edge.
Jumping off my window.
I landed on my knees in my grassy driveway with a loud thud. I waited for the pain to shoot through me yet it never came, but I knew that once that adrenaline-driven high had worn off, I would be so extremely sore.
I was on my feet and before I could check myself for injuries, my feet had already began to move. I jogged across the street towards his driveway.
I knocked on his door as if my life depended on it, silently praying that he was home because all the lights were off but he's car was in the driveway.
I opened my mouth to call out his name but I stopped myself when the lights clicked on and soon after the front door flew open, revealing a sight that broke my heart into pieces.
He stood there, the most heartbreaking look covered his expression; a mixture of exhaustion and a pain so deep and excruciating you like every breath might just be your last. A look I knew all too well.
He wore a disheveled white button-up with all the buttons undone exposing his lean build, black dress pants that hung low on his hips, a half empty bottle of Jack Daniel's on his hand. He was barefoot with his hair just as disheveled as his shirt.
His eyes grew wide at the sight of me, "Kris what are you–" His gaze averted just above my head towards my house across the street, his blinks were slow and laboured almost as if his eyes were betraying him, "How did you. . ." He trailed off looking up at my window, slowing coming to the realization himself.
"I-I jumped," I said only confirming his thoughts.
He snapped his eyes back in my direction, "You what? you– you jumped, Kris you could have called, texted, hell yelled out my name and I would've come for you. You could have gotten seriously hurt," The protectiveness in his voice sent the butterflies in my stomach completely ablaze.
