Anna's Pov;
I found myself sitting by the window on the bus, the warm, golden light of a winter afternoon spilled over everything, wrapping the atmosphere in a hazy glow. The scenery outside felt both familiar and surreal, like a half-remembered memory. The bus glided along smooth highway roads, cutting through the mountainous valley of West Virginia, where the sun was bright but a chill lingered in the air. I watched the landscape pass by, immersed in the quiet beauty of the moment—until I turned my head, and there he was.
Samuel. Sitting beside me, dozed off, with his head resting against the seat. It had been weeks, maybe months since I'd allowed myself to think of him so vividly. But here he was, beside me, sharing a single wired earbud playing a love song that dripped with melancholy, each note echoing a love slipping away. Even in his sleep, though physically close, he felt so distant, as if I could reach for him but never quite touch him.
The sunlight from the window fell across his face, causing him to squint in his sleep. I gently pulled the curtain to shield him, and as I did, his hand rested on the armrest between us. Slowly, almost instinctively, I placed mine over his, and his fingers curled around mine, soft and warm, even in sleep. I looked out through a sliver of the window, the world outside continuing in silent motion, the only sound our shared song.
His head slumped against my shoulder with the slight jolt of the bus, and I glanced over at him. Despite everything, it felt right—comfortable, as though nothing between us had ever broken. When he stirred, I whispered for him to go back to sleep, offering him a small smile. He returned it, faint but familiar, and slipped the earbud from his ear before drifting back into sleep. Watching him there, peaceful, a deep, bittersweet warmth settled over me, leaving a dull ache.
But just as I let myself sink into that feeling, the warmth began to slip away. His face blurred, growing distant until he faded altogether, the music dying in my ears. I jolted awake in a frenzy, in the silence of my bedroom, blinking into the bright light, feeling the soft warmth slip away as reality settled around me.
My heart was racing, and I sat up, catching my own messy reflection in the mirror across the room. The last traces of the dream clung to me, sharp and bittersweet, haunting my thoughts. It was only a dream—a reminder of what had once been, of the sweet memories I hadn't let go. I had been telling myself for months that I was over him, that I had moved on. But, in the back of my mind, a part of me was still clinging to the fragments of my past, unwilling to fully let it go.
It was already late when I finally opened my eyes. Nearly noon. I groaned, feeling the weight of a sluggish morning hanging over me and the uneasiness from the dream. Reaching for my phone, I saw a text from Addy: "Not coming to class?" I lay back, torn between drowsiness and a twinge of guilt for missing out, but I didn't reply right away.
Moments later, another text buzzed on my screen. "Hey, I'm in the cafeteria, where are you? Do you have class?" It was Davis. Without much thought, I typed back, "I'm in my bed."
"Oh!" he replied, probably unsurprised.
"Yeah, I just woke up," I admitted.
"Expected, sleepyhead," he teased.
Rolling my eyes, I shot back, "Shut up, dumbass!"
...
Davis' Pov:
Though I was sitting in the cafeteria with my friends, my mind kept wandering, expecting to hang out with Anna. But she hadn't shown up. I was bound to stay with my friends now, and though I usually had fun with them, there were moments when the emptiness beneath the surface became too clear. They made fun of me hearing about my break up and I felt terrible about it.
After our coffees, someone suggested we hit a club that night—it was Friday, after all. The plan sounded fun enough, so I agreed.
When evening rolled around, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, with a denim jacket as it was beginning to be cold outside. I was ready for a night out.
We danced, vibed to the loud music, and I even let myself laugh with them. But by the end of the night, I found myself sitting alone at the bar, feeling drained by the facade, the forced laughter. My phone buzzed just then, an unknown number lighting up the screen. I stepped out of the club to escape the noise, and as soon as I picked up, my heart clenched at the voice on the other end.
"Davis... can you hear me? I'm so sorry. I just need to talk to you..." It was Nysha. Her voice felt like a ghost, a strange, ironic echo of the past I thought I'd buried. I held the silence for a long moment, listening as she tried to explain herself, her words tumbling over each other in some desperate attempt to patch up what was already shattered.
"What do you want from me, Nysha? It's over between us," I finally said, calm but firm.
"Don't say that," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
I clenched my jaw. "What else do you expect after you cheated on me? After you went and kissed someone else, what can you possibly say to excuse that?" My voice was steady, but the anger simmered beneath.
"It just happened. You're so far away, off at college in Atlanta..."
"Right. Well, fuck off." I ended the call, my hand shaking slightly, my head buzzing with anger and exhaustion. I sank down on a bollard by the roadside, trying to clear my mind.
Without thinking, I dialed the only person I knew would understand. "Anna...hey." I let out a heavy sigh.
"Davis, what happened?" Her voice was calm but concerned, grounding me in an instant.
"Nysha called."
"What? And you answered? Do you still have her contact?"
"No. It was an unknown number. I didn't expect it to be her."
"What did she want?" she asked, her voice tinged with frustration as I explained the call. She listened, the irritation in her voice mirroring my own.
"The audacity," she muttered. "People like that, I swear—how they can hurt someone so easily and then act like it's nothing. How can they just... cheat or lose interest, just because we're in different cities? How can they end everything without a word, leaving us with a shattered heart and no closure, while they move on as if it all meant nothing?"
"Are we still talking about Nysha?" I asked gently, catching the tremor in her voice. A silence engulfed us, heavy and telling. In that pause, I felt the depth of her own heartbreak—how deeply past wounds can cut, leaving scars that never fully fade. And I understood then, that past can haunt us, long after everything is over, done and dusted.
YOU ARE READING
Invisible String.
Romance"She built a fortress around her shattered heart, each stone laid with ache of love lost. But someone knew her before the walls were raised, he knew her far beyond than anyone else. Even though, she always kept him at arm's length, he danced with h...
