Page 212 of Composed
“Sad as I am about it, I’m sure.” I chuckle as she slides off me and onto her back. I trace over the walls, the ceilings, the floor. “I’m gonna miss this place.”
“I’m gonna missyou,” she says, she threads our hands together, as she stares up at the ceiling.
“What colours are you gonna paint the walls when I’m gone?”
“I’m feeling something bright, flirty, and fun.” She clicks her tongue, her eyes glinting as I roll my head to her. “What do you think about fuchsia?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh I’m sorry. Your vote no longer counts.”
I grin, squeezing her fingers. “What a shame.”
We stay like this for a long time, the soft music filling the space.
I breathe in, the familiarity, the feeling of peace that this building brought me. Tears spring to my eyelids, and I let them fall.
Talia holds my hand through it all, the pain, the hope, the joy of what’s to come next.
I have a whole life ahead of me and I plan to live it this time.
“Hey, Hendrix,” Talia says when the sun sets outside, the room shading.
“Yeah?”
“I’m really fucking proud of you, you know.”
“You are?”
“Yes.” She squeezes my fingers. “You’re finally choosing yourself.”
My arse vibrates as I slam my boot shut.
I tug my phone from my pocket and tuck it between my shoulder and ear. “Hey, bestie.”
“Are you dying?” Saint drawls down the line. “You sound way too joyous for this early hour.”
I grab my backpack from the hallway, toss it over one shoulder, and snatch the last box from the bottom of the stairs. “Not today. Sorry to disappoint.”
“A shame.”
“Piss all the way off. You'd miss me if I was gone.”
"Unfortunately that is very true.”
I roll my eyes. “Why are you awake anyway? It’s barely six.”
“I know.” He groans. “Please tell me you’re coming home soon. Your boyfriend is a fucking tyrant in the studio without you and has had us locked up in here all night.”
Home.
Boyfriend.
My stomach flutters with a crescendo of butterflies.
I peer at theFor Salesign pitched in my driveway. “I’m just getting in my car now.”
“That's my girl.” I hear his grin.
