Afterlight ✔️

chapter forty-two

— Chloe Romano

3 days later.

Shocks of embarrassment swarmed through my body, as I thought of the scene I caused in the bathroom a few days ago with Violet. Violet had turned out to be one of the most comforting people I had come across in Stratford, besides Justin of course. At the time, Justin was still in the hospital. After hearing several stories by several people that he had been sedated due to unusual behavior, I couldn't help but to feel concerned. It was about 07:30PM and the sun was setting. I watched it from the window in Justin's room. I had just hopped out of the shower into a pair of gym shorts, and one of Justin's old t-shirts. Violet was downstairs, waiting for me to come join her and watch another movie. She had been the perfect person to watch movies with. In some sort of way, I was going to miss spending quality time with her.

I continued watching out of the window, seeing the dimly lit sky. I was starting to notice that the trees I had been looking at were beginning to form into faint shadows. I heard footsteps enter the room, figuring it was Violet. I whipped my head around to see who it had been, freezing up my body at their presence. It wasn't who I expected.

It was Justin.

"Hey, beautiful." He rasped as we made full eye contact. He took his beanie off, stuffing it into his baggy pocket, as I ran over to him, hugging him tightly. He kissed my forehead sweetly,  "It's okay, baby. I'm here for you." He murmured into my hair, kissing the top of my head.

"Hey." I whispered, holding my tears back. "Do you need anything?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable. He sat on the bed behind him, rubbing at his eyes.

"Just water, please." He sucked his lips in, peering around the room, seeing if anything had changed while he was gone.

I nodded, exiting the room to go downstairs. Violet wasn't there. It was quiet. I went to the fridge, taking out a glass, pouring orange juice. I walked over to the pantry, taking out a pack of Chips Ahoy and marshmallows. Piling everything into my arms, I walked up the stairs, back into the room.

"Baby, I just wanted water." He chuckled lightly, eyeing everything in my hands.

"Huh?" I cocked my head to the side in confusion.

"You brought me orange juice," He eyed the glass in my hand, "But I wanted water. I'll take it though, but, what's wrong?"

"I–I thought you said orange juice."  I stuttered, looking back and forth between him and the orange juice.

"Are you okay, baby?" He frowned, reaching out his arm to take the things out of my hands. He sat the orange juice on the table next to him, placing the cookies and marshmallows on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, of course," I lied. "Couldn't be better."

"Are you sure? Because water doesn't even sound similar to orange juice." He chuckled lowly.

"I'm sorry." I snatched the glass off of the bedside table, heading towards the door.

"It's fine," He called out in objection. "That will do."

I nodded, walking over to him to hand him the juice. He began drinking it, but stopped, sitting the cup on the table, taking my hand.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"Is it because of the juice?" He raised an eyebrow, massaging my hand between his fingers.

"No," I shook my head, whispering. "It's because of your actions."

"What?" His forehead wrinkled in confusion.