Golden Heart

(2) The stranger

Warning: Mature content for themes around self-harm, strong language, drugs, alcohol and sex will be mentioned in the story. 

Golden Heart

His slender fingers wrapped around the golden doorknob as he opened the black wooden door to one of the few bedrooms in the big house.

The music wasn't so loud anymore, sounding more muffled and getting lost in the talking of the people nearby. Miles' headache had gotten a little better since there wasn't any loud music that could've made it worse again. His black curls were sticking to his head since he had been sweating a little, the heat in the living room had been incredible.

He slowly stepped into the cold room, feeling the slight breeze coming through the opened window. He immediately spotted the huge bed in the middle of the room, neatly made. It was very fancy, he thought.

The room was dark but his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. He could see the room very clearly now. The bed wasn't pushed up against the wall and more central. And there were big windows behind the bed. There weren't a lot of things in this room though. There was a small door which lead to a bathroom but nothing else. The only thing that caught his eye was the bookshelf in the corner of the room.

He slowly walked over to the bookshelf and studied every single book. They were arranged according to their size, something he found amusing. He took one of the books out of the shelf and looked at it. The book was old and heavy, the leather around it felt soft and delicate as he ran his finger over the faded blue bindings.

He opened the cover and thumbed through the book. His eyes flew over all the words as he flipped through the pages.

He was going to keep this.

He closed the book again and walked over to the bed. Then he sat down on the white mattress, letting out a sigh of relief. He sat up and closed his eyes, putting the book next to him and inhaling the cold air which also had the slightest bit of a rainy-night smell. It was fantastic to finally get some rest after the exhausting day of driving around, yelling at people and being annoyed over and over again.

His back was pressed against the wooden headboard of the bed and his legs, he noticed, were almost too long for the whole bed. He had little flesh or fat on his body and he sometimes wished he wasn't such an ungracefully thin and rawboned human. It didn't look healthy and he also had problems with fitting into small spaces because his legs were always too long for everything. It was like hell.

He had always been that slender and tall. His friends would always annoy him with stupid nicknames like stick or Goliath, and he would always freak out and end up punching someone in the face until the person would say sorry. Maybe that's another one of the reasons why his friends had always been kind of scared of him.

However, the friendship didn't last for long, they never would. He was a loner and he would always be one. Life was easier with no one stopping you from doing what you love or caring too much for you. He didn't need someone like that.

He kept thinking about all the friends he has had, all the unnecessary friendships which were then thrown into a trashcan like they meant nothing. But he pushed the feeling go guilt away, he had already done it a long time ago. Those old friendships meant nothing to him. Not anymore.

He kept his eyes closed and enjoyed the coldness and darkness a little longer when suddenly someone was storming into the room, slamming the door shut behind them before exhaling loudly.

Miles opened his eyes and tried to make out who it was. Was it the weird girl on the bar? Was it even a girl? Judging by the small figure and the clothes it must have been a girl. He kept sitting on the bed, waiting for the girl to realize there was already someone in this room. But she just kept looking down and trying to catch her breath.