Harper
Anything beautiful, people want to break
And you are beautiful, I'm afraid
And you are beautiful, I'm afraid
He doesn’t remember drifting off. But when he wakes, his head doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as it should, and the bed is empty as he’d expected.
He looks anyway. He does every morning, no matter how long she’s been gone. He’d done it when Phoebe had disappeared too, and now he wonders how many times his arm will reach across the bed and find nothing but empty air before his brain will understand and his body will stop hoping before he’s even conscious enough to know what he’s hoping for.
He reads the note on the bedside table with bleary eyes, and then he gets to work.
The table is hauled out and discarded, the living room cleaned, the alcohol put away. He’d like to say he tossed it, but he’s not that optimistic. And he gets Phoebe’s favorite dessert from the old bakery in Torchline she used to love, which sits on the table covered and waiting for her to arrive. When she does, he is far more steady on his feet than the night before as he answers the door, a little tired but cleaned up and put together. “Hey. You didn’t have to come back, but thank you.” He waves her in as he says it, closing the door behind her and ushering her to the kitchen where he takes the cloth off the dessert and slides it across the table towards her. “Thought I’d get you this as an apology for my behavior last night.”
He looks anyway. He does every morning, no matter how long she’s been gone. He’d done it when Phoebe had disappeared too, and now he wonders how many times his arm will reach across the bed and find nothing but empty air before his brain will understand and his body will stop hoping before he’s even conscious enough to know what he’s hoping for.
He reads the note on the bedside table with bleary eyes, and then he gets to work.
The table is hauled out and discarded, the living room cleaned, the alcohol put away. He’d like to say he tossed it, but he’s not that optimistic. And he gets Phoebe’s favorite dessert from the old bakery in Torchline she used to love, which sits on the table covered and waiting for her to arrive. When she does, he is far more steady on his feet than the night before as he answers the door, a little tired but cleaned up and put together. “Hey. You didn’t have to come back, but thank you.” He waves her in as he says it, closing the door behind her and ushering her to the kitchen where he takes the cloth off the dessert and slides it across the table towards her. “Thought I’d get you this as an apology for my behavior last night.”
But I would love you in any form you take
