IGNITE

fifty-eight.

‹ 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 ›

Tearing Piper away from the gallery—from her gallery was a task fit for the Gods. I could tell, in the way that she kept turning and staring back, as if she could hardly believe it, that she would return there the next morning and the one after that, and the one after that.

And every morning that she stood there, staring up at the sunrise through the glass ceiling, or holding a paint brush to a canvas, I wanted to be there, to watch the way that she looked, the way her brows pinched together, how she'd bit her lip in frustration when she made a mistake.

But I wouldn't be there, and I'd had to remind myself that more than once.

For her.

Piper and I walked silently out of the gallery, our hands mere inches from each other as I led her to a bench, letting her take a seat before I took my place beside her, staring into the night sky and at all the stars that we could see from our vantage point. A smile pulled at my lips, glancing at her, taking in her beautiful face and wishing that I could see the light that used to shine in her eyes, that used to light up my whole world.

I hated that it was gone. I hated that I had taken it. I hated that she felt like she had to leave to be happy. I hated that it hurt so much.

And I knew that it would never stop hurting.

"Piper," she turned towards me at the sound of my voice, and I found myself unable to look away, no matter how badly it hurt. "I know you think that...this," I gestured between the two of us, my fingers itching to touch her, to feel her, to bring her closer so that she couldn't leave me. "I know you think we don't work. But just...just let me talk for a minute. Okay?"

A small nod, a silent invitation to keep going, to spill everything I felt out into the air between us, where it could live forever.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

"After I lost my dad, I didn't think that love was possible. I thought that God had taken my one chance at love, that he didn't want me to be happy, that he'd decided that my fate was to be alone for the rest of my life, that it was punishment for everything I'd ever done." I could hardly feel the cold wind around us, the soft flakes of snow that landed on my skin and melted from the heat of my own skin. "I thought that love would always be hard, that it was a punishment. But I was wrong."

"When I saw you, tucked in on yourself on the couch that first day, you looked so beautiful that I didn't want to look away. I didn't know what was happening, it was like a dream I couldn't wake up from. And the longer I looked, the harder I fell, and I knew you would be the end of me." I couldn't tear my eyes from hers, not even if I tried. "I never wanted to love again. But you, I would walk into hell just for a glance at you, if that's what it took. I'd let you burn me over and over and over, and I would be thankful for it."

Her eyes glinted in the faint moonlight, glistening with unshed tears that I wished she didn't feel the need to keep to herself, tears that I knew matched the ones in my own eyes, but I would let them fall, just like I would let her walk away from me, if that was what she needed. "You have shown me that there is power in being kind—in opening up and letting people in, even when the whole world seems out to get you." I swallowed around the lump that was forming in my throat, trying to keep my voice even, not letting it waver as I forced my gaze back to her eyes.

"It may not show sometimes, but Piper, God I swear, you make me a better person every single day. You make me want to be a better person, and if there has ever been a time where you feel that I have made you feel like a worse one I am so, so fucking sorry."