Page 104 of Chasing Lyric
This house,her house,still feels like the one place in the world where I could breathe without pretending. Every memory I have of real peace lives behind those walls. I’d give anything to be inside right now, sitting beside her, letting the silence stretch out like it used to when words weren’t needed. But that’s not where I’m at. Not yet.
The closer I get, the more my pulse starts to trip over itself. My palms are slick, and my throat is so tight it feels like I’ve swallowed something jagged. I drag my hands down the front of my pants, trying to pull myself together, forcing in a breath that doesn’t do a damn thing to settle the storm raging inside me.
Just as I reach the edge of her walkway, the porch light flashes on—bright and sudden, slicing through the dark.
I freeze mid-step. My heart slams once, hard against my chest. I pivot fast and drop low, ducking behind the thick bushes flanking Lyric’s bay window. The scent of soil and greenery mixes with the sharp tang of my own sweat as I crouch low, sucking in air like I’ve run miles, not a few slow paces. I close my eyes for half a second, jaw clenched, waiting for the light to switch off.
And then I hear it. Loud, pulsing, heavy bass. It seeps through the window in thick vibrations, echoing into the night. The volume alone tells me everything I need to know—something’s not right.I shift, easing myself higher just enough to see through the glass.
And the sight knocks the breath from my lungs.
Lyric’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, still dressed in one of those oversized T-shirts that fall off one shoulder, showing skin I haven’t touched in days. Her legs are bare, curled beneath her, and there’s a pint of Ben & Jerry’s melting against the heat of her hand. Her lips move like she’s talking to herself, and I catch the faint shimmer of tears on her cheeks in the low flicker of the lamp.
I stay completely still, not even blinking, my eyes locked on every movement she makes. The way she keeps scooping at the ice cream, even though she’s barely eating. The way she talks to Polly is like he’s the only one who hasn’t let her down. The way she clutches the edge of the ice cream tub as if it might catch fire in her hands if she lets it go.
Everything outside this window fades to nothing.
My whole world narrows to the woman in front of me, devastated, alone, and doing her best not to fall apart completely.
And I can’t do a damn thing about it.
Not yet.
But I will.
Queen’s “The Show Must Go On” plays loudly through her speakers, and it smacks me right in the chest. I sink into myself as I watch her. She’s attempting to build herself up, but I know she’s struggling. It’s obvious. I mean, she’s practically bawling into her tub of Chunky Monkey.
“I’m so sorry, Lyri,” I murmur.
Suddenly, her head jerks up as if she’s sensed me.
My eyes flash open wide as my body reacts without thinking. I fall back into the shrubs, trying to hide myself from her.
Again.
“Shit!” I cuss as I scuffle into the bush.
The music turns off, so I duck into the bushes farther. Luckily, I’m wearing black, and I hope like fuck she won’t see me. I hear her window creek open, and I smell her fruity perfume. I inhale deeply, my senses coming alive as I close my eyes and try to keep myself in check. She’s right above me, and my heart leaps into my throat. All I want to do is look up, to tell her I’m here, and that I love her. That I’m sorry, and that I’ll do anything to stop her hurting like this.
“Must be a skunk or some other rodent,” she murmurs to herself. Her voice is all nasally, obviously from her copious amounts of crying. She closes the window, and I let out a relieved sigh.
“Fuck, that was close,” I whisper.
I hear her pull her curtains closed, and I smile.Good girl.
Rolling my shoulders, I risk glancing up to see the window completely covered, and I let out a heavy exhale. Dusting myself off, I quietly extract myself from the bush and stand staring at the giant window as the light turns on again.
Goddammit! I wish I had more time to watch her.
I know how creepy that sounds, but catching a glimpse of her, just seeing her for a moment, even though she’s a mess, somehow makes me feel close to her again.
I’m not sure I am ready to let go of her just yet.
I can’t go to her door, not in the state she’s in. It will be too much for her. So I crack my neck and do something I thought I’d never do.
Hell, I’m already a creeper. I may as well add snooping to the list too.
My eyes dart around to check if any of her neighbors are watching. There’s no one around, so I make my way to her bedroom window. I feel all kinds of mixed emotions. Like I’m invading her privacy, like I definitely shouldn’t be here. But I need more of a fix, and it’s outweighing my need for her privacy.
