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"Millie?"
A gentle voice calls out to me. My gaze lifts up, looking over the room that I had lived in for months. Looking over my bed, and then at his.
But it's no longer his.
"Millie?"
I turn around slowly, feeling the darkness in my eyes deepen as I face Natalia. I even see her swallow nervously at my action.
"Um, put your stuff away and get some rest," she orders, grabbing the door to shut it. "And welcome back."
I let out a forced breath as the room fills with darkness. Me, left alone with only my thoughts in this empty, uncomfortably lonely room.
I feel my lip quiver, a cry releasing from my lips before I grit my teeth to prevent anymore. Crying isn't an option, I cannot fucking cry.
Not tonight, not ever again. I cannot cry over this, I cannot cry over Finn. Never again, never again will I let myself.
I whip around, wiping my eyes to prevent myself from breaking this new, self demanded promise. I look at all my clothes, neatly folded atop of my tucked-in sheets.
My eyes start to wander, like sheet metal's attraction to a magnet. I look over at his bed, seeing that his clothes are also folded up neatly. Except, there's no sheets on his bed.
I feel my chest begin to heave, another sharp pain strikes in my heart. As I take a step closer, scolding myself for doing such a gesture.
I do not miss him. I do not need him. I will never see him, ever again.
I repeat to myself.
You cannot love someone who is crazy.
My thin fingers reach down, brushing against a grey sweatshirt. I blink a few tears away, letting myself grasp onto the fabric. His lingering scent fills my nose as I bring the soft material up to my face.
It brushes against my skin, wiping away a tear that now falls against the curve of my cheek. Then I give in.
More tears fall; followed by muffled cries that progress and become louder. I feel my heart pound, crumbling in sync.
I fall to the ground, leaning against the side of his bed as I tightly hold onto his sweatshirt. It's plain, nothing on it but I study it for anything, just something. Several wet spots now cover its surface, a mixture of the tears it picks up and snot from inhaling the familiar scent of Finn.
Finn.
It's even weird to think aloud his name. Sounds like something far away and distant. It makes me feel wrong for saying it, a sin of some kind that will never be forgiven.
"Finn," I breathe out into the sweatshirt. I swallow hard, my teeth clenching together to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs.
I tilt my head back, finding my balance against the side of his bed as I see the window ledge. Ah, yes. Probably his most infamous location.
I still vividly remember every scene that was effortlessly performed atop of the window sill. Finn, chain smoking cigarettes while ranting about politics. The times he'd cry up there, the times I'd squeeze next to him and we'd kiss and tell each other secrets from when we were kids.
When we'd eventually get too caught up in a heated moment, almost falling off of the sill but luckily climbing down to his bed in time.
The times where we would star gaze, theorize the future and space. Shit talk nurses and
no-good school teachers.
Things I've never told anyone; things I will continue to keep to myself from now on. Till the end of time—I swear.
Ill never feel the way I felt for Finn towards anyone else. Ill never be able to wake up next to any other person, pronounce my undying love for them.
Whisper things into their ears, things that took weeks of shoveling out from the depths of my mind. Only for them to return with the same; the same trust and dignified love.
Even if the love is undignified in the eyes of others, there will never be anyone else.
Only now do I realize my nails have dug so far into the fabric that there are small rips along the back. I smile to myself, knowing how Finn would've probably found this funny.
But then my smile drops as I start to think about him again. Wondering what he's doing at this exact moment, pondering the idea if he's even still alive.
The idea of him not being alive is something I quickly push back.
I rise to my feet, using my trembling arms as a boost. The room is entirely dark, the night sky dull and starless. So I rely on my senses, or lack there of.
I trail the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and throwing it to the wooden ground. Quickly, I lift the sweatshirt over my head, in a hurry due to the cold air against my skin.
It's still fairly big on me, his smell engulfing me as I close my eyes. Imagining that it's him with his arms around me, any second now he'll plant a kiss against my lips and call me crazy.
But that's not what happens. The furthest thing actually because when I open my eyes, there's no one there. Only the emptiness in my room that I no longer share.
I let out a pained sigh, feeling my chest collapse as I turn over my shoulder. Slowly, I climb into my bed, wrapping the clean blankets around me.
Then, I let myself cry some more until I eventually succumb to sleep.
—
I know this is actually the shortest chapter EVER but we're getting to the end of the story and though this chapter is entirely necessary, it was planned to be a short scene of Millie returning to Claymore. Two more chapters left, stay tuned.
