𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐰𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | 𝐙𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥/𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐲

2. Empty mornings

I rolled over in my warm bed, groaning as my hand fumbled about to stop the wailing alarm I had set. My hand found my phone and turned it off. Sighing, I rolled back over, drifting back off beneath the warmth of my covers until suddenly my door busted open.

“Zach!” my mom scolded, disappointed. I shot out of bed, alarmed by the sudden shock. “You told me you were going in today” she continued, walking around my bed towards me. “Mom, how did you even know I- oh my god…. Please don’t tell me you were standing behind my door again waiting to hear the alarm go off! Really, again?? I thought we went over this!?”

She stayed silent, her attention suddenly diverting to my wall. “Stop pretending my wall has suddenly become interesting and answer me, mom.”

She sighed, sitting on my bed. "Zach, you know it’s only because I care. I worry about you, you know that. Ever since… ever since Daniel, you haven’t been the same."

She sat down on my bed, looking down at her hands as tears began to brim her eyes. "I want you to return to a normal life, Zach. I want you to know what it is to be happy.” she softly spoke. As I sat down next to her, she gently caressed my cheek. I nodded, feeling sorry for the sadness I always found myself to unintionally cause her. "Ok mom, I'll go."

She smiled, kissing my forehead as she stood up. "Thank you sweetie. I love you" she whispered, closing the door behind her as she left. I exhaled, flopping back down on to my bed as I stared numbly at the ceiling. Life was so much work. Why was I living it, when I could just be with Daniel instead?

I slumped into my bathroom and lazily brushed my teeth. Reluctantly, I ran a hand through my messy hair. I don't give a fuck about how shit I look. It should be fine, right?

I shrugged to myself, pushing away the thought. I walked into my room and picked a black jacket up off of the floor, smelling it. Good enough I thought to myself. I turned around to put it on when suddenly something caught my eye. I dropped the item of clothing I was holding, walking over to my closet. Hanging on the outside of it was a hoodie. His hoodie. I shakily pulled it off its hanger, examining it carefully, as if looking at it too long would break it.
It still smelt like him.

I bit my bottom lip, trying hard not to let the thought of him get to my head. Missing him was too much pain to deal with.

I put the grey hoodie on, before grabbing some black jeans and leaving my room.