Uncommon

XIII

It had been 3 weeks.

3 long, agonizing, boring weeks since she had seen Michael. She had been positively miserable, going to and from work and occasionally going out to get food and supplies on her days off. Her days were dull and life-less, and she expected nothing more than what her routine was.

Each morning, just like this one, she would sit upright in her bed, and wonder how in the world had she tolerated living like this. In this world without adventure or spontaneity, how had she thought this was living? It was grey and life-less compared to the world beyond the wall.

She would sit for hours, contemplating, questioning, pondering. Ashton was worried of course, but she didn't notice. She didn't notice much of anything anymore.

It was her day off, and she sat on her rooftop in early morning, sketching. The lines came easily, an adaption of drawings she had already done.

She wondered what he was doing as she let her hands do the work for her. Was he sleeping? Fighting? Training? Bullying Luke? It was so impossible to tell and it killed her not being able to see him, to ask him. She would venture and live life, if only she knew how. Michael had been teaching her.

And now, she'd never see him again.

She looked down at her sketchbook. The lines were perfect, capturing it all, from the glimmer of his eyes to the sarcastic wit of his smirk.

It was the same man she'd been sketching for the past three weeks. The same man she couldn't stop thinking about, that she wished she was spending her time with right now instead of drawing him in her sketch-pad, desperately trying to mask the hole that, in his absence, had come to be.

She shivered in the cold, wrapped her fathers jacket tighter around her, and looked at the sky.

" Michael." She whispered, noticing the way the syllables rolled off her tongue. " Michael Michael Michael."

" Ever Ever Ever." A deep, familiar voice said from the ground. Ever's heart surged into her throat before peering over the side of the roof, disappointment wiping the grin off her face when she saw Harry.

" Oh. Hey Haz. Come on up." Ever said, tossing her sketchbook back into her room as the lanky, curly haired lad climbed up onto the rooftop beside her. " What are you doing here?"

Harry shrugged, eyeing her large, worn coat and long hair that hung loose around her shoulders.

" You seemed down lately. I was wondering if I could help." Harry said simply, and Ever smiled at his kindness half-heartedly.

" I wish you could help, Haz. But I've lost something, and I'll never see it again. There's not much you can do." Ever said solemnly, and she saw Harry nod, curls bouncing, lips pouting in concentration.

" I see. Could I, maybe, take you to dinner?" He said this in a rush, as if he had been holding it in for a very long time. " To take your mind off of your lost thing, of course. Um.. yeah."

Ever looked at Harry, with his giant, caring heart and sparkling green eyes and handsome face. Every woman in the city swooned at his feet, and yet, here he was, on her rooftop, asking her, little, plain-old barely-adventurous her, out to dinner?