roses » cth [au]

II » mailbox 43

chapter two • mailbox 43

warning: again this is an au so i make the rules *inserts sunglasses emoji* but yeah so ella and luke are 17 and are in freshman colloge year and ash calum and michael are 18 and are in freshman college year aswell. (I know ash in 19 idc hes 18 here, but he still looks the same like he looks like 19 year old ash not 18 year old ash okay ))

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MAILBOX 43

As soon as I got that note, I scurried down to the lobby. "May I help you?" The clerk asked looking up from his Rolling Stones magazine. "Uh erm do you know who used mailbox 43?" I asked pointing in it's direction. "Yes. Wait well no. Mailbox 43 belongs to apartment 43, also known as apartment 9C, but that apartment is vacant at the moment." He answered. I pouted slightly. Why would the rose dude ask me to write back to that mailbox if no one uses that mailbox? "But but..." I pouted once again, "no one uses that mailbox? No one?" I asked. "Not that I know of." The clerk said returning to his )magazine. "Okay. Do me a favor and look around for anyone that might be using that mailbox, yeah?" I asked. He nodded and I went back and pulled out a paper and pen.

'Dear Anon,

Thank you for worrying about me and writing those nice notes, and thanks for the roses but, seriously, who are you? Please tell me, I don't know if I should take advice from an unknown.

Also, why do you care? Why do you care if I cut myself? It's a personal thing. I don't like myself, I don't like life, I'm not happy, that's why I cut myself. You shouldn't care. These are my problems not yours. You shouldn't find me beautiful. I'm not. You shouldn't care about me. I don't. Do yourself a favor and just forget about it, okay? You'd be dodging a bullet.

Truthfully,

Ella'

I walked back down and put the letter in the mailbox, and immediately felt remorse. John Doe was being nice to me, and I snapped at him. "HELLO AGAIN," I said loudly and nervously. The clerk looked up and gave a weak, forced smile.

"Hey."

"Could you possibly, maybe, open mailbox 43 for me?"

"No. It's illegal, it's not your mailbox."

"Yeah but I dropped a note in their, and I need it back."

"That's too bad, love. I need this job, I'm not taking risks."

"PLEASE."

"No."

"You're rude." I huffed walking into the elevator.

"Hey." Michael said as soon as I walked in the elevator. "We meet again, Elevator Boy." I said leaning against the wall. "Of course, Elly." He said and I raised an eyebrow at the nickname, "That's cute," I said, letting out a sigh. "Why are you so down El?" He asked scratching his head. "Are you expirementing with nicknames?" I asked laughing, "And like well, basically, there's sort of, um a rose and, like. It's nothing." I said trying to brush it off. DING, the elevator door opened and Michael stepped out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out with him. He pulled me into his apartment and I, without resistant, went with him. He sat on the couch and I followed, "Now, tell me." He said looking at me. "Uh okay, so in the last two days I have found two roses with notes in front of my house." I said and he nodded. "You're sad because..?" He asked raising an eyebrow. "Well, they said I could write back and I did, and it was rude, and I feel mean." I shrugged. "Why were you rude to someone sending you flowers?" Michael asked. "I, just, ugh." I threw my head back and groaned. "What'd the roses say?" He asked as I shifted uncomfortably. "It's kinda personal." I shrugged again, scooting away from him.