His fist slammed down hard on the blaring alarm clock. He could hear the plastic split down the back of the case. It sounded like a crack of thunder to his sensitive ears. It was far too early to wake up after a night of drinking. The harsh rays of light sneaking past the curtain stung his bloodshot eyes. He turned on his side and felt for her before his memory had a chance to remind him. Her side of the bed was cold; his memory was unforgiving.
He quickly added up the days in his head. It had been a week now. He didn't know where she had gone and she hadn't wanted him to know. As much as he wanted to track her down, he respected her space, her wishes. Every morning when he woke up, hoping to see her watching him from the foot of the bed, smiling. She had been a wonderful dream and now he couldn't go back to sleep.
He could still feel her warmth brushing against his skin, still taste her mouth. He could see the moon's reflection in her eyes when they went dancing out in the lawn. They kept the count of the imaginary music in their heads, never agreeing on a style, only following each other's lead. They had danced until the sunrise, not caring about sleep.
Sleep was the only time he could be happy, the only time he could smile. In his sleep he could see her, hold her. She was still happy, still his. When she was still here, he never wanted to sleep, never wanted to stop looking at her. He didn't even want to blink. Now all he wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and ignore the growing fears in the back of his mind.
His room was shattered. Shards of his furniture had become embedded into his wall; pieces of glass lined the floor by the windows. The portions of the wall untouched had been shredded by the metal claws. He had learned where she had disappeared to: a mission. She hadn't wanted him to worry, so she didn't tell him. She didn't expect to be gone this long. Neither had anyone else.
The professor was finally worried enough himself that he told Logan. The room was evidence of what Logan had thought about the news. In an hour he had disappeared as well. The mansion grew silent, hoping and praying for the best, for two to return home.
He knew where she was sent, so he started the trail there. He picked up weak scents and it gave him hope. With one purpose in mind, he ignored the stares he received as he smelled sidewalks and door handles. As soon as he had lost hope, as soon as he thought he lost the trail, he found a new scent, more recent, stronger.
He followed the new trail to a park, fairly deserted, save for a few teenagers loitering. It wove him through playgrounds and through flowers. He didn't like the way it reminded him of someone running from something. It seemed desperate, scared to turn around, only dodging trees and running.
Her scent continued to get stronger and fresher as he ran. He soon arrived in a thick wooded area. He slashed away at unruly branches with his claws, desperate to reach the scent's source.
He soon found a meadow. And her.
He had gotten to kiss her one last time before she had left him for the last time. He had fallen for her hard, but now that she wasn't around, she couldn't break his fall. He felt broken and didn't know how to pick up the pieces. He was lost without her.
She had told him "Always and forever." He hadn't believed her until now but it was painfully true. Always and forever turned out to be a long and lonely time. The world seemed to be ending; he could hear it crashing down around him. He could still feel her though. That was his only consolation. It made the hours easier to bear.
In his mind he could still hear her sing. She never thought he could hear her, but he would sit in the next room, just listening, taking it all in, memorizing every note.
He was drunk and still drinking. A pile of bottles had gathered on the floor next to him. It was all he could think to do. His mind was cloudy, heavy, but not from the alcohol. He just couldn't think, he didn't understand. What they had was so beautiful; he didn't know why it was gone. He screamed out to whoever would listen, asking why it had been taken away.
It had been a pure love, not tainted by silly adult ideas or theories. It came with no strings, no preconceived notions. But now it was gone, lost forever. He couldn't get it back, no matter how many he killed, or how many hours spent in the front of a church praying.
He wished she knew what he was going through, what he was feeling.
He wished that he was dead and that she was still breathing.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I have thank all my wonderful beta readers: November, Allison, Mercy, Marisa and Paradise.