Shortly after George boarded his flight, I text Jade to inform him. The hunter acknowledges and thanks me, and I tell him that it's no problem. I then make my way to headquarters as previously planned and carry the gear inside. I head to the training area and am promptly greeted by Yula as soon as I arrive.
"Yula", I say, "These are the equipment that you requested to be delivered by Logan.", causing the woman to raise her eyebrows in an expression of surprise, seemingly not expecting that I would be the one to turn in the requested gear.
"Oh? Where's Logan?", she asks while her eyes glance around, looking for the hunter in question.
"He was occupied and asked that I return them instead.", I answer, and Yula nods with a hum. She then turns around and beckons for me to follow, leading me to her desk. After I put the equipment on the wooden surface, I cast my gaze back to her face while she opens a notebook and searches for something. "Why did you ask though?", I inquire before reaching for my wallet in my pocket, "Do we need to settle the lease? I can compensate."
"No need, it's all taken care of.", she replies dismissively and retrieves a pen from behind her ear, where it has been stashed. She jots down notes on a page. "Logan is rather mindful, so I knew that other than piercing holes, there would be no serious damage done to the equipment."
I nod in agreement and remain watching as she records the status of the gear on her logs, "So, that's everything?"
"Yes, unless you intend to get another lot." The woman states without glancing at me. Her work-oriented voice doesn't waiver at all. I chew my lip at the prospect she brings up.
With the current circumstances between Logan and myself...I doubt there will be a need for another round of equipment.
With a shake of my head in response, the woman merely gestures to the exit and I head out of the headquarters without another word. As the sun hangs low in the sky, I proceed to my car in the parking lot. Once I sit behind the steering wheel, a chill sets in, the atmosphere in the vehicle seemingly lonelier than before. I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel as a realization washes over me.
Swiftly retrieving my phone from my pocket, I check the status of the text messages Jade had sent in the group chat. Upon checking, I discover that the messages have yet to be received by Logan, indicating that he has not yet turned on his phone.
This means that he is still busy with Gwen...
My chest grows tight and I thump my head against the headrest, my entire body feeling strained and weary. My muscles ache as I attempt to grapple with the pain of my shattered heart. I am aware that the true anguish has not yet hit me in full force, but I cannot bring myself to confront it right now. The last thing I need is to breakdown in my car in the parking lot of headquarters. After inserting the keys, the engine is brought to life.
A voice keeps resonating within my mind, commanding me to swiftly return to my abode, as if my brain recognizes that I will be unable to endure the impending wave of sorrow. I instinctively strive to keep Logan's image out of my sight, but as each passing second ticks away, my control wavers. The pang in my chest continues to swell, and my eyesight is beset with tears, the moisture forming pools that threaten to overflow.
Luckily, my home is situated a mere half an hour from headquarters, and with my mind becoming muddled, time passes by at a rapid pace. Soon enough, I pull up in the driveway and gaze at the front door through the windshield. As the engine falls silent, I inspect the empty porch and feel a massive lump forming in the back of my throat, making it almost impossible for me to swallow.
Now that I have safely reached my abode, my frame feels sluggish, leaden. I blink away fresh tears as I get out of the car. I drag my feet as I approach the front door, feeling utterly heartbroken and defeated. My chest feels as if a heavy weight is crushing it, and it requires a great deal of effort to force myself forward toward the entrance.
YOU ARE READING
Hunters Don't Cry
Fantasy'Hunters Don't Cry...' Throughout my life, I've heard this callous expression. It was like a taunt, as if implying that hunters didn't have a heart to feel such extreme emotions or have enough reasons to shed tears. But for me, this phrase only fill...
