30 | heaven

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N E V A E H


After blowdrying my hair, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Mr. Bennet's words are still stuck in my head.

My gaze darts on my phone sitting on my dresser, and I swipe the screen to see the notes I saved earlier. The feelings. The feelings that Aiden can't feel anymore.

Thinking about this only makes my heart clench with pain. Aiden used to feel so much, only to feel nothing in the end.

I sigh, get up from the dresser bench, and walk out of my room to get some water. By the time I arrive in the kitchen, I notice Ian placing a tray of food on the counter.

I take a closer look. It's chicken soup, quite mouthwatering. It smells so damn good.

"It's for Aiden," Ian says while preparing the drink. "He hasn't had anything since he collapsed."

My heart sinks again, knowing that Aiden is still not feeling well. 

I open the fridge, take out a bottle of cold infused water, and pour it into a glass. After taking a large gulp of it, I huff. When I turn my head, Ian is nowhere in sight.

My eyes travel to the dining room, but he's not there either. I stare at the bowl of chicken soup sitting on the tray.

Wasn't Ian supposed to bring this to Aiden? Where did he go?

I lean against the counter, resting my elbows on it as I wait. Minutes pass, but Ian hasn't come back yet.

Now that I take a look at the chicken soup again, I'm afraid that it might get cold. It's better for Aiden to eat it while it's still hot.

Ian might be busy with other chores, so I decide to bring this to Aiden. I take the tray and walk to Aiden's room.

When I arrive in front of his slightly opened door, I spot him sitting on his bed. He's staring blankly ahead. There's sadness in his eyes.

The sight gives me a mixture of feelings. My heart thumps, and I don't know why it beats faster. It's suddenly hard to breathe, and my chest tightens to the point that it hurts.

Why do I feel like crying just by looking at him? Why do I feel this kind of emotion?

Slowly, I take a deep breath and knock on the door. Aiden turns his head toward me when I push the door.

He's taken aback, not expecting me to be here. He straightens his back against the headboard.

"I"m sorry," I say. "I just want to bring you food. Ian cooked this for you."

He watches as I place the tray on his nightstand. "Thank you," he whispers, and my heart flutters.

I don't know why such simple words from him can make me feel this way. I can even feel my cheeks heat up.

I nod, responding with a small smile. Just when I'm about to turn around, he calls, "Nevaeh."

He has a serious look on his face. Guilt crosses his expression.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I haven't apologized to you for what happened in the painting room. I shouldn't have been that harsh on you because of the pot. I shouldn't have talked to you like that. I was an ass-"

"No, no," I cut him off. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have touched--"

"No, I was being a jerk," Aiden insists. "I don't even deserve your forgiveness."

He looks down, gripping the bedsheet tightly with his shaking hand. He's so angry with himself, and that makes me frown. What has gotten into him?

"Come on. Let's not think about that anymore, shall we?" I say cheerfully, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

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