❪ 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄❫ * ˚ ✦ chapter twenty-seven , another guy behind a mask [ tw : grief & slight mentions of SH ]
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❪ QUEENS , NEW YORK CITY ❫ March 2016
Peter finally returned to school against on February 29th. Isabella was happy to see him, he'd been off for two weeks, and she'd been working tirelessly to pick up his slack on the English project that it due at the end of April. They only have two months left on a three month project, it sounds like a lifetime but will fly by. Peter hasn't been himself however, everyone can see it. He's created a new persona for himself when Belly and him stopped being friends, and now, he was even darker. Isabella saw the dark rings around his eyes, his sunken cheeks and ghastly appearance. His hair has gone wild, he doesn't even try with it anymore and he seems to constantly be hurt.
Isabella can't tell if he's fighting with Flash, but it's scaring her. Milton and Marley don't necessarily see it, but she knows a hurt person. He carries himself differently, makes a face when someone accidentally walks into him, has to carry his bag on another shoulder. She knows broken ribs if she's ever seen them.
February turned into March pretty quickly, the world starting to come back to life after a gloomy February. She can only guess that April will be dark and dreary, the closer they tread to that month, the more she's kept up with restlessness and nightmares.
She often feels cold around April, like a dead person.
March was the month where the world turns to Spring, the trees start to blossom gorgeous green leaves with delicate pink petals, animals come from hibernation, the lakes further up north unfreeze, the snow melts, and the rainy days turn to soft, warmer, sunny days but it's not warm enough to sweat like a pig, like in Summer. Isabella loves the colder months, despite the fact she hates the cold, it's so much nicer. Don't get her wrong, she adores Summer, but there's something about curling up under a blanket with a hot chocolate and watching movies.
One Wednesday afternoon, she was stood by her locker on her own, after homeroom. She was collecting some books for her next period, when a figure popped up beside her, hidden by the locker of her door. She noticed the feet, eyes flickering down to the familiar sneakers and sweatpants. The girl angled her locker shut, looking at the familiar face with a mop of brunette hair, "Hey." He spoke joyfully, weirdly happy for a Wednesday.
