fourteen.

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AVAN

I had never been inside her place before, but as I looked around her house, I wondered why I never had.

Her house just screamed Liz. It was definitely her style. It was simple, but in no way was it plain.

Before I could look around some more, she trudged upstairs, motioning for me to follow her.

I hurried up after her as she slipped into her bedroom, which consisted of beige walls and a queen-size bed, adorned with white covers and bedspread. She had a black desk in the far left corner, and a walk-in closet. It was a nice room.

"Nice room," I said as she tucked a piece of raven hair behind her ear.

"Thanks."

I could tell she was stressed, just by the look on her face. And I knew she wasn't fond of small talk, either.

"Where are your parents?" I then asked curiously, wondering if she lived with them or not.

But I wasn't expecting her to burst into tears after I asked that question.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry," I murmured as I pulled her body towards me, her hands gripping my shirt as she buried her face in my chest. "I didn't mean to bring it up."

"They're gone," she sobbed, her tears soaking my t-shirt. Her sobs broke my heart, and I couldn't do anything other than just hold her, and rub soothing circles on her back, trying to get her to calm down a bit.

"I'm so sorry," I murmured into her hair. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"They're gone, Avan," she repeated as she lifted her head from my chest, mascara running down her porcelain cheeks. "They're never coming back."

I didn't know what to say. So I just nodded in understanding, and pulled her to my chest once again.

"Is that why you haven't been yourself lately?" I asked gently as I pressed a soft kiss to her hair.

Her nails dug into my shirt as she nodded into my chest, still crying slightly.

"I'm sorry," I apologized again, simply because I had no idea what else to say to her.

She looked up at me, her eyes big and glazed with tears.

She looked so vulnerable. And it broke my heart.

I wasn't used to seeing her like this, as if she was a broken doll.

I cupped her cheek in my hand, stroking the apple of it softly with my thumb as her eyes continued to stare up at mine.

Kissing her wouldn't be appropriate right now.

But god did I want to.

-----

listening to harry styles fine line while writing this just hits different.

feel free to comment your thoughts!

-izzy

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