𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 is your average do-good lawyer on the rise to fame as a representative of young victims. Except her motivations aren't all that innocent. Rayne's only goal is to run from her past, to leave confrontation for the courtroom, no...
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𝗛e stood in his kitchen, barefoot, wearing nothing but his boxers and a pair of grey sweats, sipping on ice cold water he'd just poured for himself. Now that he no longer had any to – do plans, he could finally take the time to think about all the recent events. About everything he has learned throughout the last couple of days.
The hardest thing to come to terms with was the idea that his sister was gone – and it was for good. He had always tried his hardest to make sure that he kept hope, even if he didn't express it. He told himself he would never stop searching, fighting for her, but that's exactly what he did. The guilt of his lazy actions weighed down on him and continued to burden him. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it.
The silence of the room echoed throughout his subconscious as he continued to drown amongst his thoughts. It made him want to break something, shoot someone or just yell, but Rayne's words somehow simultaneously repeated in his head loudly, 'Don't let your memories with her, or anyone you've lost, become dark and cold; preserve them with care and love them inside your head in a way that no one else can.' She was a strange, yet smart woman. Her words calmed him and gave him clarity – even if it wasn't directly in that moment. He'd said it and thought it over and over again but each time she proved his opinions correct; she was remarkable.
His toast popped up from the toaster and he turned to it, reminding himself that there was no time to wallow in depression – no time to mourn. He needed to find her killer to reappraise his sister. Not until her murderer was six feet under, would he take the time to properly grieve.
After a moment of justification, he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind. He focused gently on buttering his toast, remembering he was only out of his room and out this late to get something to eat. He had been so upset with Willow earlier that he completely forgot he hadn't eaten at his father's estate. He wondered if Rayne had eaten something proper too.
Rueben paused, dropping his knife softly on the counter and staring at the dissolving butter. Every thought he had innately turned back to her. It was strange – he had her twin brother as his best friend for years and never took the time to recognize her being. He never tried to meet her. He never wanted to either – but it was weird, because all he wanted to do now, was be around her.
The two of them were exactly alike. They were kind and lighthearted people; suffocating in their private problems in silence. They both tried to find and offer a silver lining in situations that other people are going through while obviously being asphyxiated by their own pain.
I want to get to know her better, it was all he wanted. The only thing he desired in this world – apart from bringing his sister the resting peace she deserved.
He grabbed the toast and slipped the corner into his mouth, biting and chewing. As he swallowed, the doorbell sounded. He looked up, confused, before dropping the bread and turning around. The clock on the wall read 1:34 a.m. He groaned, unsure of who could be behind the door, but nevertheless, wiped the crumbs off his lips with the back of his hand, and padded towards the entrance way.
