A World of our Own | K.TH *COMPLETED*

Cry

I wake up with a soaked, scarlet towel against my eyes, and I immediately run to the bathroom to wash the sticky substance on my skin.

Last night had probably been the worst cry I'd ever had since my mother had passed away. Losing too much blood made me dizzy with strain, and I hoped that I had enough left to keep me sustained for the day.

It would be absolutely terrible if I collapsed while I was talking to V or something.

On the way to the computer, I toss the red towel carelessly in the direction of the laundry room, figuring I'd just wash it later with my other clothes.

Quickly, I finish my online courses, which are way too easy for me because people just assume I'm dumb all the time. This is the only time I'd ever been grateful to my stepmother for making me take a course a whole year later than my age level, since I could finish way faster and have more time left over.

Today, the classes only take me an hour, when they'd mostly take a full half day for other students to finish.

Usually, they would take me a solid two hours, three at most, but today, I'm over excited to see him. Even though he was half the reason for my ugly cry yesterday night, I felt like there was more to him than what he showed me, and that intrigued me. He was a mystery— my mystery, and I was determined to solve him, no matter what it took to get there.

When I ring the doorbell for the first time, nobody comes to the door. Tapping my feet impatiently, I wait for a full minute before I raise my pointer finger to press the bell once more.

Then I realize something, something that makes disappointment cloud my eyes and bitterness to wrap its cold, harsh fingers around my neck.

Of course.

He's gone to school.

Today was Monday— and he was normal. Which automatically meant that he went to school. After all, he was everything a person could ever want. Why wouldn't he go?

Then the door opens, making me jump in surprise. Behind the door reveals a sleepy V, his eyes still half closed with drowsiness. The instant his eyes land on me, it goes wide with shock.

"What in the world..."

My hands immediately fly up to my lips to cover them in mirrored shock. "I'm...I'm so sorry," I gasp, doe eyes widening even further. "I didn't mean to wake you— I thought..."

He leans against the doorway, somehow managing to look like a fresh model out of a magazine dressed only with a plain white shirt and dark shorts.

Behind his figure, I can glimpse a blackened fireplace. The scene from yesterday had remained exactly the same, with scattered glass and blood smeared against the walls. But strangely, his house now smells of burnt fire instead of the sharp smell of alcohol mixed with the metallic blood, and for a second why comes all the way up to my throat before I swallow it back down.

"Do you want to come over? No offense, but it doesn't seem like your house is in very good condition..."

"Yeah."

He's obviously still drunk with sleep to either realize what he's saying, or he really wants to get out of his house. When I follow him back, I realize that he's seated himself on the long couch in the living room.

"Are you okay? How did you sleep last night?"

He gives me a sleep-infused glance as he leans back into the couch, eyes closing again. Well, judging by that, I can very clearly tell that he didn't get much last night.