his two thousand deaths + l.h

seven

VII

That day, Pin expected to wake up to the comfortable feeling of an arm draped around her but she didn’t. All she had was an empty space right beside her where Luke’s body was last night and where it was supposed to be.

She assumed that he had somewhere to be in the morning. In all the time she’s shared a house with Luke, she’s never really seen him wake up. He was usually awake before she is, already eating in the kitchen or trying to fix the TV set.

Pin just sighed, waiting a good ten minutes to adjust to the mere thought of having to get out of her bed, before she finally stood up and went downstairs.

Luke wasn’t there. She thought maybe he was in the backyard, playing tennis with Ophelia since he said they play every other day, but before she even looked through the glass doors, she saw a yellow sticky note on the kitchen counter.

At work
L

Pin didn’t really recognize the smooth handwriting but it wasn’t hard guessing who gave it. Even though it was obvious that Luke was the one who left it, she had to reread it six times since it didn’t sound like him.

She sighed and walked back up to her room. She didn’t have much to do that day since nearly everything she was supposed to could easily be stalled. She decided on spending a day on her bed, watching The Vampire Diaries, drinking hot cocoa or something she saw on Tumblr, until she saw her dresser.

The tattered copy of A Farewell To Arms was just beside her lampshade. Pin’s only read up to the first page, not even fully comprehending it, but she did plan on finishing the book. She’s only ever read four novel-length stories in her life and even though she didn’t want to be the girl who only does thing to impress boys, she wanted to have something to talk about with Luke.

With a deep breath, she walked over to the blue book and laughed once she flipped the first page, seeing the remnant of the leaf Luke tore off. She only scanned the first page before squinting her eyes and beginning to read the rest of the book.

For the rest of that day, all Pin’s done was read that single page, not understanding how any of it was as good as Luke made it out to seem.

 

× × ×

 

“Phel!” Pin sang, knocking on the glass door and waving when Ophelia looked up from the stack of papers her head was practically buried in.

Pin was in an incredibly happy mood that day. For what reason, she didn’t know, but she missed being giddy over the thought of how the rest of a day would go.

“Pin?” Ophelia asked, standing up from her desk and walking to her door, quickly opening it so Pin could walk in. Pin had her own stack of papers and the moment she got to the coffee table, she laid the down carelessly and threw herself on the couch.

“Ugh,” Pin groaned contentedly, “I love your sofa. It’s, it basically eats me and I love it.”

Ophelia laughed and walked to the other seat across Pin, smiling brightly, “Well you seem to be happy today.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Pin smirked, peeking one eye open, “I don’t know. It’s just a good day.”

“Or is it because it was a good night?” Ophelia said, her voice dropping to an accusing tone.

Pin opened both eyes and sat straighter, “Why do I hear some sort of subtext?”

“Luke told me you slept together.”