Venturously Yours,

Carelessly Giving

Eliot took a good look around her old studio apartment. The typical brick wall and ancient windows with the white frames surrounding it  and hinges on its side. The air was musty and bleak.

The nostalgia of this place hit her hard. The days alone here spent in such ways she couldn't muster to think. Had a hole in her ever to become more bigger than it was already?

She needed to air the place out. It was almost like no living thing ever lived here even with her presence.

Coming back to San Francisco was a split second decision. She had just got another text message from Trent after she went back down to place Octavius's stuff on the kitchen counter of Elixir's house.

She had a heard some shouting but consciously she made sure not to hear the words.

Snooping leads to trouble.

Trouble she didn't want for some reason because that trouble leads to heartache.

So the next impulsive thing she did after seeing that text was booking her air ticket, packing and simply telling her sister that she was going to leave.

Elixir didn't stop her, like usual but she was eerily quiet. Eliot didn't care for it because she was just done with her. Her sister didn't particularly acted like sister even if their blood was the same.

It was okay. At least that is what she had been telling herself on the way to the airport, throughout her flight. It was all okay.

But then again she didn't have the conventional life.

A good life to spend with her sister and mother who should love her but they don't. Her father died and left her, nothing to blame him for it. And finally, a man who she had mixed feelings for but so strong that they could tear her. Apart.

Shaking her head, she stretched herself. An eleven hour flight was tedious. She strode to her room, dragging her suitcase behind her.

Eliot wasn't ready to clean up yet but she wouldn't mind a nice shower. Stripping, she made her way to the bathroom. Turning on the knob, she let out a sigh as the warm water hit her bare skin.

Then, her thoughts began to wonder to a certain blue haired man. How he touched her, kissed her, made her feel like she was worth holding on to.

Her stomach toiled in tension. Would he call her?

"No...stop expecting." She whispered to herself.   

Applying some squishy shower gel onto her palm, she began to massage her body. She lathered herself up and rinsed trying not to think about him.

Pulling on a bathrobe and toweling her hair, she got out of the bathroom and entered her room. Opening her cupboard, she chose some sleep shorts and a camisole.

Donning them on, she was still deciding what to do. She didn't want to touch her suitcase for some reason. It was like if she unpacked and stored her stuff away, she was doing the same to her memories of Octavius.

She kept checking her phone when she made herself some cereal. No call. Not even a message. Nothing.

She still waited as she washed her cereal bowl. Cleaned the kitchen, threw away the leftovers, moped the floors, dusted and aired the living room. Changed the bedsheets, scrubbed her bathroom, rearranged her cupboard.

She did everything. Soon, her house were wicked clean. It almost sparkled. Yet her eyes went down to her suitcase.

This was ridiculous.