Finding You

Chapter 39 - Vulnerable

"She's all laid up in bed with a broken heart,
While I'm drinking jack
All alone in my local bar.
And we don't know how,
How we got into this mad situation,
Only doing things out of frustration.

Oh these times are hard,
Yeah, they're making us crazy
Don't give up on me, baby."
- The Script

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning when I wake up, he's gone.

I know it before I even open my eyes, but when I finally do, I see that I'm right. The thing is, I felt safe in his arms, and waking up without him, I feel vulnerable, although I'm not sure to what.

Sitting up, I glance around the room and see that he's still nowhere to be found. What is there, however, laid out on his dresser, is the pair of clothes I wore the first time I came to his house - the day we stood out in the rain, and he told me he loved me. They were wet, so I left them here, and I guess I forgot to get them back.

Peeling back the covers, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and hesitantly stand up. I walk over to the shelf and pick up the clothes before heading into the bathroom. As I'm closing the door, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

After Hunter and I ended things, there came a point in the last few weeks when I stopped looking at my reflection for very long. Eventually, I wouldn't really look at all. Every time I did, the girl looking back at me just seemed so sad and tired that I didn't want to see her.

I didn't like what I was becoming, so rather than do something about it, I ignored it.

But today, when I catch glimpse of myself, I let my gaze linger for the first time in nearly a week.

And I don't like what I see.

I look tired. The dark circles under my eyes make them look even bigger than they already are, and not in a good way, and I'm too skinny. Nothing new really, but still, there's something different about me.

Behind my eyes, I see a brokenness that reminds me of why I'd avoided my reflection for so long in the first place.

Shaking off the image, I turn away from the mirror and proceed to change out of Hunter's clothes and into my own.

After loosening my hair from the messy braid it was in, and smoothing down my bed-head, I fold Hunter's clothes and leave the bathroom, quickly exiting his room and making my way down the stairs.

Once downstairs, I wander around a bit, trying to find my way to the door while simultaneously searching for Hunter. Part of me wonders if he's even still here at all. After a minute or two, I end up back towards the front of the house, in the sitting room, which, coincidentally, is also where I finally find him.

Hunter is sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, fingers locked together over the back of his neck, and facing the floor.

Slowly, I cross the room to him, the hems of my jeans scraping the floor, until I'm only a few feet away. I open and close my mouth several times before finally willing myself to speak.

"Hunter?" I call out hesitantly.

No answer. Maybe he didn't hear me.

Brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, I try again. "Hunter," I say, louder this time.

He shakes his head, still without having looked at me even once. "What did I do?" he asks, voice raspy and low from lack of use.

I look away, crossing my arms over my chest. Shyly, I sink into the armchair across from him and lean back, trying to keep as much distance between us as possible. "What do you mean?" I reply, averting my eyes to the floor.