Artgirl

10// tear in my heart

CHAPTER 10: Tear In My Heart (cover above made by the lovely TheUJelly_)

this one's for sev because she is probably one of the best people on earth.

"If you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones. 'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs. Setting fire to our insides for fun, collecting names of the lovers that went wrong." Youth by Daughter

Nicolas Bear Forrest

END OF term exams never failed to suck all the energy out of me. They consumed my every thought and forced me into a lockdown, where studying took over all aspects of my life. Beginning December did not only mean the smell of holidays and drunken family, it also meant that exams were on the verge of happening. Study groups stayed until 3 a.m, some got delusional and others lived on coffee.

Therefore, waking one up on the wretched first of December at 9 a.m. was considered unannounced torture. The doorbell rang twice in the past five minutes. I hoped that falling back asleep would make whomever it was go away, but the thought of someone on the other side expecting Adrian or me lingered in the back of my brain. Adrian slept like a well-fed baby, so the chances of him waking up were close to zero. I, however, hardly slept and easily woke up.

When the doorbell resonated across the flat once more, I shot out of bed without second thought. From the peek I took at his room, Adrian was, as I expected, in a starfish position. I opened the door, expecting an advertisement person.

Instead, there stood a girl in jogging pants, a bright red sweater that read: I AM PROUD TO BE CANADIAN and sporting what seemed to be an attempt at a stiff attitude. If I didn't know her, I would've thought she was homeless. But I did; I'd be able to recognize her in a full crowd without a doubt.

I put my hand on the door frame, barely concealing my surprise. We hadn't spoken since her burst with James. I called twice and gave up, because in situations where someone you love hurts you, sometimes you want to be alone. "Hunter?"

"Hi," she said. Her face was bare of make up, yet her eyelashes stayed thick and uncountable, "I need to say something."

"Couldn't that have waited until noon?" I asked, instead of granting her unasked permission.

"No, actually," she frowned, "My flight's at noon."

"Right. Go ahead, then."

Her eyes concentrated on a place lower than my face and she looked up when I cleared my throat. "You're not wearing a shirt," she then chose to stare directly in my eyes.

Being half-asleep didn't aid my ability to talk without thinking, "I don't, when I sleep. We've slept together more than once." At her raised eyebrows, I added: "At the mail thing."

"Please put some clothes on," her voice was oddly unsteady, "I can't talk if you're half naked."

"Alright, give me a second." I tried not to race back into my room and throw a shirt on. I didn't bother looking in the mirror, this was Zoey. I could be covered in dirt and she wouldn't treat me any differently.

Back at the door, I offered her to step inside. She shook her head and held her hands together. Her nails barely had any color on them, but the chipped and scratched polish was present a few days back. She was nervous, or had been for a few days.

"I need to say something," she said, empty of light and full of courage. "I need you to listen, please."

I nodded. "Okay."