The Star The Sunflower Faced

chapter eleven

in love again

i see you as usual, with heart eyes then a heart torn because of you. but as my chest yells in pain, it's calling your name.

it wants you because it knows you won't do it again.

I roll around in my bed, I glance at the clock only to see that in exactly thirty-two minutes, the present would be the tenth hour of night.

I didn't even know what I was doing besides emptily sagging a teabag in a steamy water cup. Failing at counting sheep? Counting down until midnight? Pondering where I've gone wrong?

Déjà vu comes into my mind like a hawk, taking a scan at this current time frame as if it was a target. A breathy, empty chuckle airs out my mouth that blows the teacup's mist in different directions. More like a sigh of despair. Funny, how just like reincarnation, your broken heart gets broken again and again. It feels like there's an answer to that, but I wish someone could just say it to me rather than give myself another round of contemplation that causes another headache.

I scroll through my phone, seeing endless loving texts from Dad that I haven't replied to yet, but an empty inbox from Dean, Gray and Estelle. Yes, Estelle hasn't talked to me in like what, the weeks since she's left? What was she even up to?

I jump when I hear feet rustling the stair's carpet, but then roll my eyes secretly when I saw that it was just Dean probably craving a box of strawberry milk at nine-thirty-four in the evening. My inference was right when I saw the fridge light flash for my attention in my peripheral vision. But awkward air smoldered brighter, smothering the kitchen in four different shades.

He throws his phone carelessly on the kitchen island and I flinch my arm away, splattering some tea on the wooden floor. What made me think he was going to throw it at me square in the face? Probably from that volleyball. Or that argument.

Maybe both.

I sip from the mug as I shift my eyes from him to his phone, only to hear it ding once I saw a text notification from a person.

He must've noticed me staring at it because he took it in his hold before I processed the name of the caller, like the wind struck by his finger tips. And with wide eyes and a straw poking through his lips, he rushed upstairs.

What did he have to hide so badly?

I lean over to the sink and watch as I slowly let my tea cascade from the container to the never-ending sinkhole. Little by little, bitter drop by bitter drop I watch it all fade away. Something that made me predict another déjà vu. Gray finding happiness to another person.

And leave the one who loved him hanging. 

Because calls of fate, now will only be a muffle waning to silence. 

But why does it feel like my heart is growing stronger, to have more need towards him? If even possible. It wants to get drunk on his being, it longs to muddle up his love in a cup so big it makes my mug so mere; almost invisible.

I jump again when I see the white screen of my phone light up as the last drop makes its way to abyss. I looked to be shocked. I never knew my fingers could match up the pace of my heartbeats.

Gray | Can you hang out with me? I'm bored hehe.

Asther | Shouldn't you be sleeping, kid?