Pursuing Nirvana.

n i n e

warning: mild language and elements

With a heavy heart, I sulked into the lobby of my apartment complex with my head hung low and a frown upon my face. Alfred shot me a friendly grin and a wave. I didn't have the heart to ignore such a sweet old man so I gave him the best smile I could muster, even though it was probably still quite pathetic.

Truthfully, I couldn't fathom a rhyme or reason as to why I found today's events to be so incredibly devastating. I couldn't say that I loved Brayden, not yet anyways. He's just a random guy that somehow weaseled his way into my mind and was constantly present there. But then again, if I didn't truly have strong feelings of fondness for him there would be no other explanation for why I was so miserable right now.

Although, there is no denying the fact that Brayden is changing me.

Not entirely for the worst but not necessarily for the greater good either. In actuality, Brayden was driving me insane. His presence always drove me to either want to murder him or never let him go while the absence of his presence would always depress or infuriate me. Despite it making more sense for me to rejoice when he's gone, I always found myself feeling dismal and missing his strangely enjoyable quirks.

Brayden was changing me alright, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and sniffled as I moped down the seventh floor hall. Glancing down at my hand, I noticed the pale black streaks running across it. I realized my makeup was probably a total disaster by now, thanks to all the crying I've been doing, and it was far from being over.

Opening my front door, I entered the lonely apartment and collapsed onto my bed, letting out a defeated groan. It was about noon now, and I've never been more grateful to have a day off in my life. Right now, I didn't want to speak to, or even see anyone. Except Brayden. I want Brayden to be right by my side and holding me close, just the way he does. But he's not, God knows where he is right now.

It seemed like an entire hour had passed and I still hadn't budged from my grief-stricken state. I lifted my head to wipe my face that had become tear ridden once more when my eyes fell upon a small object in the distance. My blood ran ice cold as I realized what I was looking at. Slowly, I stumbled out of bed and across my room in it's direction.

I fell onto my knees as I reached it and gasped. It was Brayden's blue button up shirt; untouched and still remaining in a little crumpled pile next to the wall where he threw it earlier. I cautiously picked it up off the ground, so wearily that it seemed as if the shirt was a venomous snake ready to uncoil and strike.

In the same instant that I had picked it up, my emotions reached their limit and I uncontrollably broke down.

Clutching it tightly to my chest and burying my face within in it, I began sobbing again. I inhaled deeply to catch my breath as the tears flowed freely, soaking the shirt. As soon as the breath was taken, I was struck with aroma of the shirt itself. It smelled so strongly of Brayden, his masculine cologne, the smoke from his cigarettes, dashes of sweat and the ever so faint trace of my perfume. My scent must've clung to the fabric last night when we were trapped in each other's embrace in the sheets. Oh, how my heart and soul longed to have that again.

In the midst of my nostalgic state, I quickly dropped his shirt onto my lap and reached for the hem of my own, yanking it off and tossing it backwards. My hands were shaking as my fingers raced to undo all the buttons and pull the shirt over my shoulders. I closed my eyes as I allowed the complex fragrance to completely envelop my senses, taking me back to last night and allowing my brain to be filled with his being once again.