Collide in Plain Sight

Chapter 25

A/N: I would just like to say, I didn't plan to update again tonight. I was all set to snuggle up on my couch and watch some Naruto. But here I am writing instead because you all seemed distraught. So Kakashi, my love, you'll have to wait. I hope you all appreciate this! :) 

Pierce

After Etta left, part of me hoped that Harlow would come home. That my sister would tell her how utterly pathetic I am without her and she would take pity on me. Or at least realize that I meant every word I ever said to her. 

After a day or so, I manage to get up and do some work. I feel slightly better, but not much. I eat a little and shower again, but don't have the energy to get dressed so I throw on some boxers and collapse back onto my bed. 

I stare out my window for awhile, watching as fluffy snowflakes trickle towards the ground. I've always loved the snow. It seems like when the Earth is blanketed by snow, everything gets a little softer. Quieter. There's a kind of peace to it. I imagine having a snowball fight with Harlow. Watching her lay on the ground and make angels. I smile at the thought, even through the ache in my chest at the realization that I may never get to experience that. 

I hear something outside my door, a rustling and then some footsteps. My heart kicks up again and I lift my head to hear better. The next moment there are some gentle knocks on the door. I spring out of bed and bolt towards it, my heart soaring that Harlow is on the other side. 

"Mr. Arnoult?" I hear muffled through the wood. I stop in my tracks, my shoulders dropping and my chest deflating. 

"Yeah, Kristin?" I ask, turning back towards the bed. 

"Grandma didn't want to come, with the weather, so I'm here." she says. 

"Alright." I say back. 

"She said you didn't sound very good on the phone. Are you sick?" she asks. 

"Yes." I respond, hoping that means she won't bother me anymore. 

"Oh. Okay. Well, she had me bring things to make chicken noodle soup." she says. 

"That's fine. Just leave it in the fridge." I shout back, falling back into bed headfirst. 

"Okay. If you need anything else just let me know." she responds before I hear her footsteps receding down the stairs. 

I sigh heavily, trying to keep my eyes from watering as I hold back my emotions. It's been a week already. If she were coming, surely she would be here by now. Maybe she didn't actually love me. Maybe she was only saying that. Maybe she was trying to make me comfortable enough to let my defenses down and then she was going to escape. Maybe the entire thing was a ploy, a trick. The thought alone is enough to make my whole body hurt with anguish. I should have let her go sooner. I should have given her more options. Maybe then she could have loved me for real. 

I'm pulled out of my musings by a small shriek from downstairs. I wait a moment and listen for more commotion, but don't hear much. Then I hear footsteps coming towards my room again. 

"Mr. Arnoult?" Kristin says through the door. 

"What?" I ask, trying not to snap at her, but my patience is growing thin. 

"I spilled chicken stock all over me. I was just about to leave and it's freezing outside. Do you mind if I borrow your sweatshirt down here? I'll wash it and have grandma bring it next time she's here." she says. 

"That's fine." I call out, grateful she's leaving and I can go back to moping in peace.

"Okay, thank you. Good night." she says.