Manic [h.s]

#032

"If I told you that I loved you, tell me, what would you say?

If I told you that I hated you, would you go away?"

The Beach | The Neighbourhood

TW: Brief mentions of abuse

February 12, 1999

NIALL HORAN

I grip the window ledge with both hands, feeling the rough surface beneath my fingers. With a grunt, I pull myself up, my muscles straining as I haul my weight onto the ledge. The wind whips against my face as I inch closer to the edge, my feel finding purchase. Slowly, I push myself up, one knee at a time, until I'm crouching on the narrow ledge. Taking a deep breath, I reach for the edge of the rooftop above, my fingers brushing against it before I pull myself up, climbing until I finally roll onto the flat surface of the roof, panting as I make it to the top.

Why the fuck does anyone need to climb up here with this much effort? I pull myself over the edge, feeling the rough shingles under my hands as I crawl onto the roof. Stand up carefully, my legs shake a bit as I balance on the sloped surface, each step careful to make sure I don't end up eating pavement below. I didn't go through all that effort just to fall off this roof and become a splat on the ground.

The moon hangs low, casting a silver sheen over the restless waves crashing against the shore. The beach below is deserted, the sand glowing faintly under the moonlight like some scene out of a postcard. I keep moving, my eyes scanning the rooftop for a certain someone.

Finally, I catch sight of Meredith, perched in a spot that's more than a little unexpected. Instead of facing the beach and soaking in the view like any normal person would, she's got herself stationed in a weird point that's angled towards the road ahead, right in front of the beach house. Her short hair is tousled slightly by the wind, and she just sits there, hugging her knees to her chest like she's trying to fold in on herself.

She's kicked off her shoes, which are neatly placed beside her, and she's barefoot, her toes curling slightly against the cool surface of the roof. There's a stillness to her that feels out of place, especially considering everything that has gone down today. I can't help but wonder what's going through her head, facing away from everything except that empty stretch of road.

I would be lying if I said I hadn't noticed the sudden change in Meredith since last night. She hasn't been herself for the last few hours, like something heavy is weighing her down. Normally, she's snap right back at me with a sarcastic remark when I throw a flirty comment her way. But today? Not a single glare, no telling me to shut the fuck up—nothing. She was lost in her own world, like I wasn't even there.

Things only got weirder after she pulled the trigger on Jacob. She disappeared into her room, locking herself from the rest of us like she needed to shut out the world. But then, not long after, I caught sight of her climbing up to the roof, clearly trying to find some space to breathe. 

I know Meredith well enough to realize she's not going to be happy to see me up here, invading her quiet moment. I can already hear the irritated sigh she'll probably throw my way. But hell, I couldn't just leave her alone like this. Something is not right, and if she won't talk about it, the least I can do is be here, even if all she does is tell me to fuck off. So here I am, hauling myself up here like a damn fool to join her.

Slowly, I start making my way toward her, trying to keep my steps as quiet as possible. But, of course, I clumsily step right on a hollow spot in the roof which makes a loud noise that almost echoes around the whole place. Meredith whips her head around to look over her shoulder at me in surprise, and I freeze in place. That's when I see it—her eyes are red and puffy, and there's a faint shimmer of tears caught in the moonlight. She's been crying.