"I can't sleep." I answered, embarrassedly while looking down and I heard his footstep approach me.
He grasped my chin with his fingers and then he tilted my head so my eyes would meet his. His grey eyes were soft and gentle and he had a small smil...
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That first night I came back to my empty apartment, I had cried myself to sleep. I didn't feel relieved that I was finally in my own clothes, in my own bed and in my own home.
Instead, I was missing the comforting scent of cinnamon rolls and the feel of rough fingers softly running through my hair as I fell asleep. I was missing the feel of his lips ghosting against my skin as he whispered hushed words in my ear to make me fall asleep.
The next morning I had finally charged my phone after weeks of not using it and as expected there were two missed calls from my parents and then a Merry Christmas text.
They hadn't bothered to call me for New Years.
I texted them back and apologized for not picking up and then I called Carmen's grandmother's landline.
When I first heard her voice it took everything in me not to burst in tears. I wanted to see her again and to hug her as she would tell me that everything would be okay.
But then she told me her grandmother was getting sick and that she'd have to prolong her trip. I felt selfish for wanting her to come back, because I needed her too but I didn't voice my thoughts out and instead told her to take care of herself and her grandma and that we'd talk when she'll come back.
I felt sad knowing that I was all alone. There was no one I could talk to or no one who could make me feel better about this whole situation.
The sense of security that Aster and the cabin gave me was gone and now I was back to facing the real world.
I dragged myself out of bed. I showered, I wore my comfortable clothes and I went back to my room and sat in front of my canvas and paints I had.
My eyes drifted to the drawing that I had brought with me and then my hand reached to clasp the necklace I didn't give back.
When I look at you, darling, I feel the same way. You made my dark and empty sky shine with your light. You are my moon.
My eyes burned at the reminder of the words he had told me right before kissing me and I scoffed.
How could he do this to me?
I felt anger fill me and I decided the best way to let it out was to paint him before burning the canvas.
And so I did.
I took my paintbrush and I made a copy of the drawing I had drawn of him all those days ago when he was out.
I spent hours painting him. Detailing every part of his face. Making his smile bright. Mixing brown and black to get the perfect shade of his hair. Mixing more paint to get the beautiful shade of grey to paint his eyes.
