The late morning sun washed the pavement in pale gold, warm but not unbearable. The kind of weather that made you forget a jacket but still regret not bringing one. Spring wasn't done yet, but it was slowly losing its grip.
Erevin stood stiffly near the edge of the entrance to Riverview Shopping Complex, thumb dragging across the strap of his sling bag. He tugged at his hoodie's collar-too warm for it, too uncomfortable without it. People brushed past him in waves. Couples, laughing groups of friends, parents wrangling toddlers.
Too many.
He hated malls. Too many voices, too many eyes. He could feel them grazing over him even when he wasn't being looked at.
You're early.
Or she's late.
Maybe she changed her mind.
Why would she want to spend her Saturday with you, of all people?
Because we are her boyfriend?
Thanks for reminding now he is more nervous.
He exhaled, trying to shut the voices up.
He glanced at his phone for the third time in two minutes. 10:11 AM. Still no text.
Then he saw her.
She crossed the road slowly, head slightly bowed, the wind pushing at her loose black bun. She wore a cropped hoodie that barely reached the waist of her shorts and flat sneakers that made her steps almost silent. The moment he saw her, something in him stilled.
Even in something simple, she managed to look like she belonged on a magazine cover-and still... she looked wrong.
Her eyes were distant. Her shoulders drooped, her steps lacked that usual skip. And her face-beautiful as ever-was pale. Tired.
Has she slept at all?
"Dawn-" he started, instinct tightening in his throat.
She didn't say a word.
She walked right up to him, slipped her arms around his waist, and buried her face in his chest.
Everything in Erevin's body locked up.
He could feel her. Every inch of her pressed against him-small and warm and trembling just faintly. The scent of something soft and mango-sweet drifted up from her hoodie. He could feel her breath through the fabric of his shirt, each inhale dragging against him like she needed the air from him.
His arms hovered stupidly for a second. What do I do? What do I say? Is she crying? Should I ask? Should I touch her back or her hair or-
Her fingers clenched faintly into the back of his hoodie.
He wrapped his arms around her, gently-awkward, hesitant, but real.
And standing there, in the middle of a crowded mall entrance, Erevin felt everything.
The weight she carried. The silence pressing into her bones. The way she sagged just slightly in his arms like she didn't want to stand on her own.
It wasn't like the other times. She had hugged him before-in her room, nervous and pink-faced, clutching his sleeve like it might explode. But this... this was different.
She held him like she belonged there.
Like she didn't care who saw.
Like she didn't want to let go.
And something inside him-something soft and ancient and cracked-ached in response.
Should we ask what's wrong?
No. Don't push her. What if she's not ready to talk about it?
But what if she's waiting for us to ask? What if she thinks we don't care?
She knows we care. If she wants to talk, she will.
And if she doesn't?
Then we wait.
YOU ARE READING
Dawn Of Twilight
Romance"They don't understand. Love isn't about mercy. For you, I'd stain the earth with blood and sleep soundly at night. I'd kill a thousand times over if it meant keeping you safe." - Erevin Frostell Erevin Frostell is no stranger to solitude. A reclusi...
