Learning to be Strong Alone // Jeraphina Fanfiction

Chapter VIII: Calling Back

"I heard that you were broken,
but I believed it none.
It wasn't until you left this world
that I believed it some."

...............

Claire's POV :0

"How many years has it been, Adrion?"

He scratched his head and rolled onto his stomach to face me better, unsure of the question I was asking, "You were born, um . . . 17 years ago??"

My face deadpanned, unamused, "...Adrion, I'm talking about John," I said as if it were the most obvious thing on earth.

He blinked a couple times, taking partial sips of his drink before understanding what I meant, "Oh . . . almost three years, I think."

Three years?

Already?!

"Are you alright, Claire? You went a little pale," Adrion said as stood up to playfully poke my cheek with his cup a couple times.

I quickly whacked his cup away, but still being so careful as to not spill the drink, "I was just thinking," I heard myself speak.

Adrion smirked, leaning his body back into the beanbag where he sat. "Unusual."

My eyes widened and brows furrowed as I looked up to face the mop of blonde hair on a ducking twig. "Says you!"

The boy was quick to roll his eyes and leave the beanbag to create a dip beside me on the couch, "But anyway, why were you thinking about him?" He quickly took another sip of his drink, leaning ever so closer with the passing seconds.

"I saw his father's name in the paper."

Adrion's mouth formed a frown and he slowly peeled his lips from the straw they held. "Why was he in the paper?" he asked, eventually lifting the straw back to his puckering lips.

I gingerly bit my bottom lip, "H-he got sent to a mental institution, I believe." My head lowered. I had always liked William; he was carefree and kind—the opposite of what John had become.

Adrion's drink was spilt all over his lap as he heard me say that, "He did?! But he was such a chill guy! How?!" he yelled in my ear.

I just shrugged my shoulders and placed two fingers gently to my lips, "N-no idea. I tried not to look at the paper. Once I saw the title, it kinda' scared me, so I didn't read it."

It seemed that minutes—hours passed before another thing was said to alive through the awkward  tension in the air.

Adrion side-eyed my swaying legs and hunched over back. "Any other reason you were thinking of him?" he asked me.

My mouth quivered at the thought of what I had seen, it gaped to reply, but refused to make a sound come from its confines.

"I . . . had a vision of him— i-it was a bit blurry, but I think I could tell it was him," finally fell from my mouth. "Golden eyes."

I hung my head further, not knowing where this conversation was going.

Adrion spit out the remaining mouthful of his drink, "CLAIRE! DON'T TELL ME THAT WHILE I'M DRINKING MY JUICE!" he yelled.