17 Made Mistakes

⋆34༄ There's good in bad, and there's bad in good

Hi guys! Firstly, I am SO thankful for your patience. I've had no time lately, so I sort of procrastinated with writing but I'm back! I finished the project like I said before, and I can't wait for you to see it in the future! I've got 4 more working days to go and then my Christmas break starts so I'll be able to write again at my normal pace! Hopefully I'll finish this volume by New Year's, if not, shortly after. ❤ I'm so excited for this chapter, are you?

Song for this one:

Never let me go — B. R. T

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I stare at Nathan, dumbfounded. "What do you mean you tried to kill yourself?"

He exhales at the sound of my question, as if he was just asked to do the dishes but really didn't want to. "Let's talk about it inside?" he asks, placing his hand on the door handle.

"Alright." My voice is a quiet whisper. I walk into his room. He follows right after me.

Before I decide to obtain any answers, I look around the spacious room. It's painted grey and white. The walls are abundant in framed pieces of art and some of his own drawings. There are a lot of plants, all of which are the hanging type. They're neatly arranged so that they've got enough room to extend across the walls as they grow in length. The bed is certainly a super king size and it is very low, which makes it look like a thick, brown mattress placed on the dark oak floor. Right above it, there is a massive window, which is cracked open, making the evening summer breeze filter inside. Unlike in any room downstairs, it's pleasantly chilly in here.

It comes to my notice that his bedroom is split into two seperate rooms, the other one of which can be accessed by stepping through an archway, decorated with a wooden beaded curtain. This whole place looks lovely and beyond cosy, and the credit for it can be given to the warm white lights that are hung across the walls. His bedroom is so much different than what I imagined it for. I was expecting it to be more . . . grunge.

I pivot on my sandals and stare at Nathan. My head is spinning from the shock that his confession caused me. "Why? And how? I mean, I don't understand." I drag my hands down my cheeks, looking at him with lack of comprehension. "It's your birthday. Why would you–"

"Wait." His voice halts me. "You think that I tried to do it tonight?"

"Well–"

"Oh God, no. This is such a big misunderstanding." He shakes his head, making some of the dark strands to end up on his forehead. "Not tonight, Davina. I tried to . . .  in the past."

I furrow my brows. "I am so confused."

Nathan exhales and plops down onto the bed. His fingers are interlocked, elbows propped on his knees. He looks at me through his dense lashes. "You wanted to see my room." He lets out a heavy breath. "The place where I almost checked out. The place where I wobbled on a stool with a noose around my neck."

My heart clenches. I can't believe that there was a day when this beautiful, golden-hearted human tried to extinguish himself.

Nathan diverts his sight somewhere ahead, and as I look behind me, I see it. The stool. My pulse picks up the pace. "Why is it still here?"

He gives a shrug of his shoulders. "It's not the stool that tried to kill me, is it?" He chuckles grimly. "Anyway . . . You're probably confused about what does all of the dark history has to do to with me not wanting to show you my room."

I slightly nod my head.

Nathan sighs. "I just knew that once you walk in, you'd start thinking about how the bedroom looks anything but what you had thought, am I right?" He peers at me intently. "You did think that, didn't you?"