She was the girl who was afraid of love. Terrified of it. It isn't permanent, she believed, it leaves you and it leaves you broken.
He was the boy who desperately needed it. Love--the only thing that could've rooted him to this world.
Ophelia and...
“what can I do when the night comes and I break into stars.”
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The next morning started off awkward.
Luce and I had breakfast together and she acted like nothing happened last night. I was good at pretending too but the overwhelming guilt hadn't even let me sleep properly last night. I needed to apologize or else I knew I would feel like shit the whole day.
That was just how I was.
"I'm sorry for last night," I murmured when she passed me a slice of toast.
Luce looked up in surprise.
"It's all right." She said, waving it off. "You don't have to apologize."
"But I shouted at you."
"You didn't really. Like I said, it's fine. I'll try staying out of your business, at least until you're here, and I'll try not to answer Mom's calls so frequently."
If she was trying to make me feel better, it sure as heck wasn't working.
"Don't do that! Mum will be worried then. I don't...it's fine. I was just not in the mood last night. I wouldn't have reacted the way I reacted if I wasn't...if I was in the mood." Which might've been a lie. I may have reacted the same, irrespective of the situation.
She stared at me before smiling. "Okay."
I sighed in relief and leaned back in my chair.
"Also, about the hospital." Luce added, glancing at me. "You can take a day off if you want."
What about Alastair? I wanted to ask. Who'd take care of him then?
"A few more volunteers have surprisingly shown up. I'm sure you taking a day off won't cause a fuss," She told me, almost answering my silent question. I merely nodded in response. "Maybe you can spend some time at the library. After all, you didn't just come here for this whole volunteering thing. It's supposed to be a vacation for you too."
Was she saying that because of how I had reacted last night? Or was it because of Mrs. Hawthorne?
All of a sudden, I was thinking about the way Mrs. Hawthorne had looked at me yesterday. A look of disapproval and distaste.
"Why does she hate me?" I blurted out, mentally cringing afterward. I had a serious problem of not letting things like such go so easily. "Mrs. Hawthorne, I mean."
"She doesn't." Luce shook her head. My eyes lingered on her freshly showered hair, draping over her shoulders. While my hair was just straight, hers went along in loose curls. "She's just a bit unstable with all that had happened."
With all that had happened. Luce was still not telling me what had actually happened with the Hawthornes or with Alastair. I wondered if she was asked not to discuss it with anyone else. Especially since people were publishing articles about the whole incident now.
