Reach Out to Me

|Chapter 12|

Trigger Warning: Suicide + Violence

This story is completely fictional. I am not promoting any of the elements described in this chapter. If you're uncomfortable with any of these topics, please skip over this chapter. DM me and I can give you a synopsis.

Minjoon was also surprised by London's abrupt departure from the cafe and equally confused by the letter that dropped from her purse. The two of them couldn't think of any reason behind the letter.

    Despite Minjoon's offer of staying the night again, Elías refused. He needed to think over some things on his own. He was sure that as long as he stayed away from London, he would be fine.

    Later in the afternoon, Elías creeped to his apartment. As he rounded the corner, he peeked around to make sure that London wasn't in the hallway. He found it ironic that despite the fact that she was the one who ran away in the cafe, he was the one who was actively trying to avoid her.

    The hallway was suspiciously empty. There was not a soul in sight. What was even weirder was the fact that he could barely hear anything from any of the apartments. Elías could hear the faint drone of a TV from one of the apartments, but that was all.

    As he was turning the key to his apartment door, a door creaked across the hallway, causing Elías to jump. He turned his head towards the sound, but only saw a middle aged woman exiting her apartment, toting a large neon green duffel bag.

Despite his proximity to her, she didn't seem to notice him, a circumstance most likely due to the fact that she had earbuds in her ears.

Watching the lady walk down the hallway, Elías realized that he didn't really know anything about his other neighbors. Who knew what other people lived next to him? He had been so obsessed with London Elías realized with horror. It had always been London this and London that. He resolved to bake some cookies and send them to the neighbor a door down.

He couldn't remain stuck on London. It was clear, at least for now, that London didn't want anything to do with him. With that in mind, Elías cautiously entered his apartment.

Elías let out a sigh when he saw that everything was as he had left it. There was still a pile of mail near the entrance and some tissues where he had spilled some water on the floor. He wasn't sure exactly what he had been expecting.

As he put his stuff down, he had the faint realization that something was out of place. Nothing big like a couch moved a couple of feet to the right or something like that. It was an itch that nagged him.

Four hours later, Elías felt exhausted, but unable to relax. The house was spotless. The laundry was done. And even the essay on Moby Dick that he had been putting off was typed and sent to his TA.

Elías sat down with a journal where he had compiled his favorite poetry. The worn leather bound copy felt like sheep skin to his calloused hands. The poetry took his mind off things as he reread some of his favorites. It was like seeing someone after a long time and noticing that they haven't changed.

That was until he read "Shall I Compare Thee to A Summer's Day?" by Shakespeare. Elías immediately thought of London. Her smiling face and the sound of her laughter invaded his mind, marking its territory and consuming it in its entirety.

Elías smiled at the memory of her. He grabbed a blue marker from the dask and uncapped it. With slow and consistent strokes, Elías wrote a piece of the poem on his hand. A couple of minutes later, he was done.

He stuck out his hand in front of him and admired his handiwork. "Thou art more lovely" was written in fine calligraphy on the back of his hand, the looping handwriting covering the majority of his hand.