If I Wake up Tomorrow, Will You Still Be Here?
Chapter One.
He stopped, his breath caught in his throat and his heart frozen in his chest. He could hear music faintly coming from inside her apartment. He could smell her perfume; an unusual mix of spice and lychees. It radiated off her so subtly that he could drool. She was probably halfway through cooking dinner. He was so stupid to think he could leave uninterrupted. He turned, his eyes finally seeing her for the first time in a year.
Her auburn hair fell gently on her bronzed shoulders, wavy and brushed away from her face. Her blue eyes were easily seen from a mile away. They'd put a newborn baby's to shame. She was happy at the moment, a small plump smile spread across her skin, her white cosmetically straightened teeth sitting behind her lips. She was always thin, but her body seemed to have more tone and muscle to it now than it had previously. Her hands lifted, her black fingernails on display, brandishing the envelope wickedly.
"Did you just leave me a letter?" she asked quaintly, a smirk planted on her face.
"Yeah," he grumbled, "I don't know why."
"You wanna come in? I made dinner," her smile was radiating, he couldn't deny her.
"Yeah why not?"
Her body faced away from him as she stepped back into the house. It was quiet aside from the faint music of Live; one of her favourite bands. Rob recognised the song, Lightning Crashes, the one sad song she wanted to be played at her funeral. He shuddered at the thought. Closing the door behind him, he smelt the delicious aroma of her cooking. Before he could ask what exactly was making that amazing fragrance, she had answered.
"I'm making stew. Do you want some?" She lifted a wide wine goblet, filled almost to the brim with a deep crimson liquid.
"If you've made enough," he smiled. It had been too long since he'd stepped foot in to this apartment. He should've known that their breakup wasn't going to stop her from being hospitable, he knew her too well.
"I've made plenty. It just needs to simmer for like half hour. Meanwhile, if you'd like to stay for a bit, I've got two bottles of wine, beer and cigarettes. Choose your poison," she stepped past him, and opened the fridge while he gladly took a bottle of beer, "So Rob, may I ask why your stalking down my hallway at eight-thirty at night?"
He grinned, happy to see her again, "I was in town. Thought I'd see how you're going."
"And the letter?" Her gaze flickered back to the envelope she had placed on the study desk.
"I guess I was too scared you wouldn't hear me out," he sighed, no point denying it, "I mean, I guess I had a lot to explain to you."
"Like your new girlfriend?" Her eyes flickered in pain for a second, but moved on to the slightly teasing tone she possessed.
"Uh - what - what new girlfriend exactly?" His eyes darted anywhere but her.
"Oh god, Rob. You're so bad at lying. Kristen Stewart, its in every magazine around here. People are fascinated about the lives of the Twilight crew," she giggled and his heart skipped a beat.
"Its not really like that between me and her," he sighed, pulling the cap of his beer and downing a few mouthfuls.
"No need to explain. C'mon, let's have a smoke." She motioned outside and they walked silently to the balcony door. She slid it open, shyly humming the words of the song before stepping out into the chilly night.
As she sat on the deck chair, she set down her goblet of wine and pulled a slender cigarette from her back. He laughed, "you and your menthols."
Her response was indignant, "Hey, they taste like a mint. Better than that rough thing your about to light up."
He remained silent, and she began to sing the words of Lightning Crashes; her voice the only melody in the night.
Oh now feel it, comin' back again,
like a rollin' thunder chasing the wind,
forces pullin' from the centre of the earth again,
I can feel it
He just stared toward her in amazement. Her voice, slightly out of tune, sounded like an angel. HIs words didn't process before they came out in a jumble, "I miss you, Zoe."
"Is that what the letter says?" She laughed.
"Something like that," he responded.
"You're losing your mind." It was light and airy, and a laugh followed.
"No, I'm just getting it back." His voice was solid now, sure of itself.
"Let's leave it tonight," she warned. He abided, silencing his inner thoughts.
He sat in silence, his lips pressing together before drawing in deeply on his cigarette, before turning to her and staring at her once more, "Have you met someone else? Is that why you don't -"
"Yeah, Rob. I've met someone else," her voice was a whisper, floating around the room like a feather, yet it managed to cut through him like a knife, "I'm sorry."
Her auburn hair fell gently on her bronzed shoulders, wavy and brushed away from her face. Her blue eyes were easily seen from a mile away. They'd put a newborn baby's to shame. She was happy at the moment, a small plump smile spread across her skin, her white cosmetically straightened teeth sitting behind her lips. She was always thin, but her body seemed to have more tone and muscle to it now than it had previously. Her hands lifted, her black fingernails on display, brandishing the envelope wickedly.
"Did you just leave me a letter?" she asked quaintly, a smirk planted on her face.
"Yeah," he grumbled, "I don't know why."
"You wanna come in? I made dinner," her smile was radiating, he couldn't deny her.
"Yeah why not?"
Her body faced away from him as she stepped back into the house. It was quiet aside from the faint music of Live; one of her favourite bands. Rob recognised the song, Lightning Crashes, the one sad song she wanted to be played at her funeral. He shuddered at the thought. Closing the door behind him, he smelt the delicious aroma of her cooking. Before he could ask what exactly was making that amazing fragrance, she had answered.
"I'm making stew. Do you want some?" She lifted a wide wine goblet, filled almost to the brim with a deep crimson liquid.
"If you've made enough," he smiled. It had been too long since he'd stepped foot in to this apartment. He should've known that their breakup wasn't going to stop her from being hospitable, he knew her too well.
"I've made plenty. It just needs to simmer for like half hour. Meanwhile, if you'd like to stay for a bit, I've got two bottles of wine, beer and cigarettes. Choose your poison," she stepped past him, and opened the fridge while he gladly took a bottle of beer, "So Rob, may I ask why your stalking down my hallway at eight-thirty at night?"
He grinned, happy to see her again, "I was in town. Thought I'd see how you're going."
"And the letter?" Her gaze flickered back to the envelope she had placed on the study desk.
"I guess I was too scared you wouldn't hear me out," he sighed, no point denying it, "I mean, I guess I had a lot to explain to you."
"Like your new girlfriend?" Her eyes flickered in pain for a second, but moved on to the slightly teasing tone she possessed.
"Uh - what - what new girlfriend exactly?" His eyes darted anywhere but her.
"Oh god, Rob. You're so bad at lying. Kristen Stewart, its in every magazine around here. People are fascinated about the lives of the Twilight crew," she giggled and his heart skipped a beat.
"Its not really like that between me and her," he sighed, pulling the cap of his beer and downing a few mouthfuls.
"No need to explain. C'mon, let's have a smoke." She motioned outside and they walked silently to the balcony door. She slid it open, shyly humming the words of the song before stepping out into the chilly night.
As she sat on the deck chair, she set down her goblet of wine and pulled a slender cigarette from her back. He laughed, "you and your menthols."
Her response was indignant, "Hey, they taste like a mint. Better than that rough thing your about to light up."
He remained silent, and she began to sing the words of Lightning Crashes; her voice the only melody in the night.
Oh now feel it, comin' back again,
like a rollin' thunder chasing the wind,
forces pullin' from the centre of the earth again,
I can feel it
He just stared toward her in amazement. Her voice, slightly out of tune, sounded like an angel. HIs words didn't process before they came out in a jumble, "I miss you, Zoe."
"Is that what the letter says?" She laughed.
"Something like that," he responded.
"You're losing your mind." It was light and airy, and a laugh followed.
"No, I'm just getting it back." His voice was solid now, sure of itself.
"Let's leave it tonight," she warned. He abided, silencing his inner thoughts.
He sat in silence, his lips pressing together before drawing in deeply on his cigarette, before turning to her and staring at her once more, "Have you met someone else? Is that why you don't -"
"Yeah, Rob. I've met someone else," her voice was a whisper, floating around the room like a feather, yet it managed to cut through him like a knife, "I'm sorry."