A familiar sensation tingles at my nape, pushing into the small of my back. My body becomes aware, alert. Because something is calling.
The balcony.
The balcony.
That strange force I've felt before— it tells me to go beyond the doors, it tells me something awaits... something important, something I mustn't miss in this moment.
Everything but the doors before me fades out of view. The world outside them is dark, but slightly alight with the glow of the moon; it calls to me too.
My body seizes with an order whose source is unplaceable. Though my body is sore, every step I take towards the doors feels like relief. Feels like pieces clicking into place, pieces I wasn't even aware of until now. A familiar sixth sense.
As I unlock the doors, the click sparking a distant and indiscernable feeling, I hold my breath in anticipation. Of the mysterious and new sensation which -I feel it- is waiting for me; the strange force promises me that it lies beyond the doors. That everything lies there. That I must only open them. It moves my hands and legs like magnets.
It's dark and cool outside, and the soft breeze brushing past my slick shoulders pulls an exhale from my lungs. As I shut the doors behind me, leaving nightmares and memories behind, I feel, for the first time in months... peace. An instant weight off my shoulders. Peace, which awaits me, and searches for me, finds me in this darkness—
"We have to stop meeting like this."
The voice is melodious, as intimate as the sea is deep. It's almost startling in the lifts and falls of his intonation, in the song of his tone. And though he's joking, a tenderness peeks through.
When I look down at him, he's already looking at me. There he stands, sitting on the wooden planks of his porch. It seems foolish to say hi, and so all forms of greeting tangle together in my throat. I can't see much in this dark, but with the light from my room, I can just make out his features. The messiness of his wavy blonde hair, his full lips and the shining of his eyes.
"Agreed," I say, my voice coming out smooth and easy. It sounds like music in the dark, for only us to understand. And I surprise myself with my smile. Tired, but genuine.
I sit down at the edge of the balcony, resting my forehead against the metal bars and gripping them with my hands. And in this peace, here with his strangely validating presence, my eyes shut, savoring the freedom.
"You were crying."
My lids flutter open, as he opens his mouth and pauses, as if considering whether or not he should dare to speak. When he does, his eyes are softer, clouded with concern: "I heard you."
Oh. Oh, no. He heard me. I open my mouth for a stream of excuses and apologies, but:
"Don't worry, it's fine. I was awake, anyway. I'm always awake at night."
"Why?" I breathe out, my fingers sliding down to my knees as he smiles at me lightly.
"I can't sleep sometimes," he shrugs, and joins his hands in his lap.
"Me neither," I say, my voice breaking in and out of whisper.
If he heard me cry from outside, then my parents... They've heard. They've heard and done nothing. I bury the hurt I feel. I bury my murdered hope.
"You were crying," he says again, but quieter, and it's somehow stronger.
His voice. There's something compelling about it, about his gaze, about... him. His entire demeanor, his words, just the way he looks at me. It makes me want to comply.
YOU ARE READING
Asunder
Teen Fiction"Promise me. Promise me you'll never beg someone to stay when they're already gone." Tangled up a million knots, Kingsley has lost faith in happiness. Her heavy heart struggles to continue to beat, and she is slowing down. It seems to her that the w...
