Zodiac

♓ | v.

[SPENCER]

My eyes rip open to the sound of the rain pattering on my window. It's five o'clock in the morning and I cannot control my constant tossing and turning.

Come on, it's Sunday for Christ's sake.

I continue to babble in my head until I finally sit up with a headache from the conversations going back and forth between myself. Books and research articles are sprawled around my bed. All of them contain information of our copycat's muse, the Zodiac Killer. 

Perhaps that is why I've been fussing around all night. Too many nightmares of my own star sign being branded into my skin...

My head pounds at the thought. I roll my eyes and pick myself up to go get some Advil and take a break from my ever-constant research. Unfortunately I'm the type of person who continues to overthink and keep my mind on everything good, bad, anything. I suppose it isn't the healthiest of habits but what can I say? I am a Pisces. 

After washing down the pain pills, I make my way to my closet and throw on a quick casual black shirt and add a beige cardigan with some ripped skinny jeans and brown boots. I throw my hair into a swift ponytail. It was time for my Sunday morning ritual of the local coffee shop downtown.

[♆]

As I make my way into Vienna Coffeehouse, a familiar face catches my eye. The blue eyes would give him away anywhere in any type of crowd.

"Spencer," he smiles, the words flowing off his lips as if everything is fine between us.

I give a mild nod and try to avoid confrontation yet here he comes my way.

"What are you planning to get?" He asks, porcelain blue eyes piercing my soul.

"Usual. White chocolate mocha with a hint of lavender." 

"No biscotti this time?" 

I frown as the memories of last years study-abroad with him in London begin to wrap around both my brain and my heart. It truly hurts when someone you love has the ability to constrict you with the tiniest minuscule things... even biscotti.

"Some things," I begin as my lips start to tremble, "are meant to stay where they belong in the thunderous cloud of our memories. Dr. Bennet, you AND biscotti are two painful ones that need to just walk away."

Andrew frowns at my words. A small part of me is pained to see the genuine hurt on his face, yet I cannot help but want to continue lashing out with every hurtful word that could pierce his tiny brain. I contain myself nevertheless.

"I'll be on my way."

Andrew starts on his way out the door when he stops himself. He turns around and, with the slightest tone, I can hear the words come out of him clear as day.

"Lila, I am so sorry."

[♆]

ONE YEAR AGO

The murky weather of London England had taken over my body with such happiness. I could never contain my casual strolls on the cobblestone sidewalks. I had completed so many pieces out here and had received so many awards that there was no solemn bone in my body. Nothing could go wrong on this trip, and nothing would disrupt that idea. I had everything in the world: a guarantee to graduate with honors, a massive portfolio to start handing out to potential employers, and, last but not least, a wonderful man that had not only taken me under his wing, but had stolen my heart in the process months and months ago sharing secret rendezvous to the most beautiful restaurants and the most beautiful sceneries anyone could ever experience.

What was there to rain on my parade?

As I finish my stroll, I notice Andrew Bennet's balcony doors are swung open. Knowing that he was in there, I made my way to go surprise him. I climb up the steps of the secret apartment that he had kept for our many cherished nights together, and, as I go to softly knock on the ebony door, I hear a faint noise.

A giggle.

Any vision and any form of love that I had had within me completely drained in the split of a second. I put my ear to the door and hear the whispers of two individuals... two individuals that were serenading each other with false promises and infidelity. I, against my better judgement, decide to see if the door is locked. 

It wasn't.

With the rage and pain forming tears in my eyes, I begin to open the door. It pushes right open and there, before my glossed over eyes, laid both a woman with makeup smeared and the man I had once called my own.

Guess you had yourself fooled Spencer Bloome...

The look on his face was unforgettable. The mix of confusion, embarrassment, pain, and whatever else he decided to show in those dark blue eyes burns into my very mind today.

The rest of those moments blur into nothing today...

The only moment that has repeated in my dreams was him calling my name as I threw the diamond ring off my finger. And the moment when I left London, throwing away my interviews, my works, my everything down the drain to ease the pain.