𝑶𝒂𝒌 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒆 ✔️

Prelude.

The clouds surrounded the area, making the skies look dark and grey with the rain pitter pattering on the balcony door and it was all Camila could hear.

Pitter patters. 

She gazed at the droplets that started from the top of the door to the bottom with her knees against her chest and the blankets around her with the fireplace on, making little crackle sounds.

And although she was warm her insides felt cold and the outdoors is how she really felt and it was cold outside. So so cold.

And Harry used to make her feel warm.

But he was never home.

What was home?

So even though she was wrapped in the blankets with the fire place on she felt cold and the rain pattered against the balcony door and it ran from the top to the bottom.

"You're home," Camila murmured as she heard the front door open and close. But her eyes remained on the balcony door and she felt cold and the only person that could warm her up was never home.

"Yeah," he mumbled, putting his briefcase on the counter and keys on the table. He gazed at her for only a second but a second felt too long as her beauty was too much to look at. She was once filled with life but everything took a spin on things so now all that was left was her staring at the pitter patters of the rain. "Might go out again though." And his gaze was hard but his insides melted like the fire from the fireplace was enough to make it melt.

"Okay."

And it was once always just Cam and Harry. Cam was happy and she took pictures with her camera and she spoke wise words with a big toothy smile and her camera around her neck. And she fell in love.

But falling in love also meant putting everything at stake.

And it was once always just Cam and Harry where Harry was filled with dimples and green eyes and sketches beyond sketches with quotes doodled in the corners . And he fell in love.

But now Cam and Harry was just

Cam

And

Harry

Where the cameras were put in a box, hidden in an unknown place with pictures worth a thousand words thrown in the fire with smiles replaced with frowns and love turned into heartbreak. And sketches turned into rough drafts which turned into wasted papers thrown in the garbage with dimples never prominent and sketches with quotes turned into a office job that was much hated.

They weren't Cam and Harry

They were

Cam

And

Harry

Hopes and dreams were crushed when he crumpled the lasts of his art work and when she burned her pictures.

So now they lived in a home that really didn't feel like home and the rings that were once both worn on their left hands on their ring finger, now left on a dresser.

And now Cam was cold and her warmth was never here and she was just left staring at the pitter patters of the rain on the balcony door.

She remembered when she was outside on the grass in the autumn where leaves were dark reds and oranges and it didn't feel so cold but you needed a scarf.... and a hat... and perhaps a light jacket.

She took pictures and it wasn't so cold but it was windy and her hands were a bit frozen because she hated wearing gloves when she was taking pictures.

And there was a boy underneath an oak tree with a wild imagination with dimples and green eyes with his pencil behind his ear or in his hand and all he saw were colours but he would only sketch with pencils because he hated coloured art.

And Camila took a picture of the boy underneath the oak tree and when he saw a flash he smiled at the camera before continuing his work.

But they never talked.

It was like communication through art.

The boy sketched the girl with a toothy smile, a camera with frigid hands as she hated wearing gloves when taking pictures.

And she took a picture of the boy with an imagination filled with colour although he hated it in art.

But when she remembered these things her eyes filled with water and her lips started to chap and she really didn't want to cry as crying didn't really show the emotions she was feeling anymore.

So when she heard the door open and close with a small love you that didn't sound so genuine, she couldn't move she just stared at the pitter patters of the rain.

And she wasn't just staring at the pitter patters of the rain that hit the balcony door. She was staring at the oak tree that only showed the branches that was filled with no hope and no love.

That's when she knew that there was nothing left for her.

a.n// so this is probably one of the last story I will be posting. It'll probably be 20-25 chapters and it's a different type of writing style so tell me if you like it!