Shades Of Cool: Noorhelm

William and Noora : 3

when you're in class
a class you hate
and you zone out
you imagine what would happen if all the windows broke
or if there was a tornado right then
it's always bad things, right?
but do you ever day dream of good things?
of how things are supposed to go?
How you want them to go?
( well surprise bitches. that was the last two chapters. did you really think it would be that easy? it's Noora we're working with here. Cmon. )
•••••••••••••••••••••

William stands in front of me, calmly, leaning against the door. I sit on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands.
"What are you doing here William?" I ask after a long while. My daydream ends as quickly as it began. "I'm here for you." He says, his tone low and even. I look up at him and take note of his too long hair and tired eyes. They don't show desperation, hurt, anger. Just exhaustion. The kind that comes from missing someone, from not knowing what to do. I know because I see it every time I see myself. "Where have you been the last three months then?" I ask, my tone accusing as I stand and begin pacing the room. "London." He says and I scoff.
"You don't get to be pissed." He says, his tone casual as always. I scoff again, throwing my hands in the air. "Are you even hearing yourself?" I demand. "You, you, you brought me to London and made me think we had a future together! Then you all of a sudden were to busy to even look at me. I knew no one in London! You left-" I rant on but he interrupts me. "Are you really the one who gets to complain about being left?" He crosses his arms and flips his too long hair from his eyes.
I look at the ground.
"That's not the only thing." I begin. "Your father-" I'm interrupted by his sudden words. "My fathers dead."
I look up at him quickly. I see no hurt, no grief, no pain in his eyes. But I do see anger and bitterness. After a long moment he speaks again. I have to resist the urge to throw my arms around his neck and hold him. Make it all better, but that's not me. And that's not what he needs.
"A car crash. Two weeks ago. He left everything to me. His estates, his money, his company." He speaks softly, in almost a consoling tone. "I could have anything in the world I wanted Noora, but I want you. I came back to you. You're the only thing that makes any sense to me anymore." He whispers.
"William... you don't get to just waltz back into my life whenever it's convenient for you."
He waits a long while before speaking again. I feel like shit. Like a shit person. His fathers dead and i just practically told him that I didn't want him back. But that's not true. I do want him. I do. But I can't pretend everything is okay.
"Weren't you the one who left?" His tone is almost desperate.
Suddenly in the moment I'm overcome by the realness. He's here and in front of me. I can smell him, like laundry soap and something distinctly him that clings to his skin. The sound of his voice and the mere sight of him is enough to break me.
I rush to him, throwing my arms around his neck, letting him hold me tightly against him. I'm wrapped in the familiar warmth of his body and I feel so good for the first time in months. I know this isn't over, I know we haven't fixed what's wrong yet. But in this moment I just want him, and me, to be here. Now. For however long we have left together.
Before it all goes to shit.