𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 | 𝐞.𝐝.

~hello, my beloved~

JUST SO YA KNOW, I GOT MY PHONE TAKEN AWAY AND IM WRITING THIS ON A SHITTY, CRACKED GALAXY, WHICH I'VE NEVER WRITTEN WITH BEFORE!!

*Trigger warning!! ☡*

I don't condone the actions portrayed by the character in this chapter, read at your own risk!

*play song now :'(*
play as many times as needed

MELINA'S POV:
9:41 am

It's been almost three months since I've came to a realization. I realized that when no one else was, he was there. He stood by my side through everything. When I pushed him away and refused to admit that no matter how hard I tried not to, I was blatantly in love with him. When I put my own feelings before his, too terrified to open every crevice of myself up to him. Even when I did, he didn't get tired of me. His love for me never grew old, it was unconditional.

I thought if I hated him, I wouldn't have to accept the fact that the love of my life is dead, and he's never coming back to me... unless.

Grayson left me, I tried convincing him the opposite, but we both knew that I was using him. I hate to tell myself it, but my "love" for him was just a way to shield myself from the intimate pain that came with his twin's death. Did it work? Hell no.

While I was "loving" Grayson, I was in excruciating heartbreak from the fact that Ethan was always the one. It was always him, and I couldn't replace him.

I know what most would probably say,

"He wouldn't want you to be hung up over him. He would want you to move on and come back to him when it's your time..."

Well, it's my time now.

Before Ethan came into my life, I was an awkward, shy, small little girl without a dad. My size seven Vans carried me to his desk in the back of our class because I was tired of being that girl, and I got what I wanted. Over the course of nearly two years, my unrequited love moulded me into the broken, mended, and rebroken woman I am today. If that wasn't the case, I wouldn't have the courage to do what I am about to do.

I glide the small, mechanical pencil across the paper one last time before folding it to the approximate size of the envelope. My tongue slides across the bitter-tasting paper, ensuring the two frames will stick together. When I'm done with the last letter, I put them all into a small box that holds my most valuable possessions.

~~~~~~~

The short drive to the house I grew up in seemed like hours. I drop the small box off on the doorstep and ring the doorbell before quickly turning the corner so I wouldn't be spotted, my heart beating at a more than quickened pace. I shamefully watch as my mother continuously turns her head from left to right, trying her best to capture whoever dropped off the box with her eyes.

She takes a deep breath in and out before realizing whoever was responsible is gone. She slowly shakes her head, crouching down to pick up the small package up and leading herself back into the house. As soon as she gently closes the door I let go of the breath I didn't know I was holding in, placing my palm flat against my chest in attempt to calm myself down.

Once I've relaxed a bit, I cautiously walk back to my car, trying my best to not be seen by my mom... or anyone in this case. Eventually, I get in my car, feeling the immense heat radiating off of it, and start it. I make my way back home, my mind bouncing around multiple thoughts and concerns for myself.