Saving Arielle (2015 re-write)

The Quiet Life

I woke up to silence and sunlight streaming in through the curtains. The room was washed in shades of blue and I found that the other side of the bed was cold when I moved to stretch. Baz had been gone for a while. I hadn't expected him to stay. I sat up against the headboard and reached out for the photograph I'd left on one of the end tables last night, hugging it tightly to my chest.

I sat there in silence for a while, just staring at the two happy little girls in the photo. I hadn't realized that I'd been crying until I ran out of tears and reached up to wipe my eyes with my sleeve. I could use a shower, but that meant moving and the last thing I wanted to do today was get up. I jumped at the creaking sound the door made when it was pushed open, and again when I realized that it wasn't Baz who had come back.

"Liam?" I croaked out, voice cracking and dry after all my crying.

"Hey." He replied softly, his tone more gentle than I had thought Liam capable of.

He had that concerned expression on his face again, brows furrowing as he took in the state of me, and perhaps also the room.

"Have you been crying?"

I wanted to roll my eyes, it was obvious that yes, I had been crying but Liam wasn't always the most observant person. I just settled for nodding instead.

"Oh." He looked suddenly unsettled, like he wasn't sure why he'd agreed to come here in the first place. "Baz got called in to work today, he asked me to come check in on you."

I sighed. "I'm fine."

And that seemed to settle whatever disagreement was warring inside of Liam. His head snapped up and his gem-green eyes bore into mine. My first instinct was to duck my head behind the duvet and hide them away, but I held his gaze and, after a minute, he nodded. He must have noticed the photograph clutched in my fingers as he stepped inside the room and took a seat on the end of the bed.

"Can I see that?" He asked politely, nudging his glasses back up with a finger when they threatened to slip over the end of his nose.

I shrugged, handing it over slowly, not wanting to let it go.

Liam whistled softly. "I didn't know you had a twin." He remarked. "How come you've never mentioned her? How come we've never met?"h

I snatched the photo back and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to un-hear those words, to scrub them free from my memory bank.

"I did." I managed to croak out. "She's dead."

I didn't want to open my eyes. Didn't want to see the look of pity that would be written on every feature of his face, in every expression that he made. It always was. But when I finally scrounged up the courage to peel them open, he wasn't looking at me at all. Instead his gaze was focussed on the wall across from us, a point just to the right of the door, and his eyes looked pained.

He looked sad, when his gaze drifted back to mine, like he'd been taken back in time. Like he too was feeling what I felt inside right now. His sadness was old, like it had been there a long time, but somehow still raw and bleeding just like my own. I didn't think, reaching out to squeeze his hand gently in mine instead. He looked up at me and something changed in his eyes, I wasn't entirely sure what.

"I had a sister one too you know?" He asked, speaking softly, almost as if he himself couldn't believe that he was saying it. "Not a twin, but a sister just the same."

It sounded like it had cost him something to tell me that. I didn't respond. I wasn't sure how. I'd never been any good at comforting people anyway. So instead I scooted over, making room for him in the bed, and patted the spot beside me gently. Liam looked at me for a minute, as if unsure whether or not he should, and then got up.