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“Just because you suffer in the dark doesn’t mean you can’t have a candle of light in your life to brighten your path. Sometimes we all need a little light to find our way. How else will you make it, at the end of the day, if you walk blindly through life?”
She is the light in the darkness.
But do I even want the light?
She removes her hand from my shoulder, and I take a step back, not quite sure what to say.
“Thanks, I guess,” I grumble.
She doesn’t smile or frown. She just stares at me blankly as she backs up, making her way backward up the stairs.
“Take my advice or don’t, Felix Port. Though, if you don’t decide, fate will for you.”
The next night, I lean back in my hot tub, the warm steam floating up around me as I bring the blunt to my lips, taking another deep hit into my lungs.
I haven’t slept.
Sleep means fucking nothing when your mind is stuck on an old lady who seared her words into your brain.
My body is molded against my seat beneath me. I haven’t fucking moved in too long, and I’m becoming numb, but I can’t seem to find the willpower to move.
And honestly, I’m afraid that if I do move, I’ll end up exactly where I was last night. I’ll end up back at Hazel’s window, and it won’t be her grandma that sees me, but instead it’ll be Hazel this time. And if she fucking sees me, I’m going to have to explain myself.
And how do you explain yourself when you don’t even know what’s going on in your own head?
I can’t stop thinking about what her grandma said. I can’t stop the feeling in my chest that she’s actually right. That her words hold such truth to them, that I can’t help the pull inside me that wants me to go straight back to her house.
I do want her.I want my light.
My life is filled with so much fucking darkness. It’s all I’ve ever known. Will I pull her into the darkness, or will she bring me into the light with her?
I take another hit of my blunt, letting the tightness hit my chest before blowing out a cloud of smoke, filling the air in front of me. The warm water laps at my skin and soothes my tense muscles, though it does nothing for my soul.
My head tilts back, resting over the edge of the hot tub, my eyes staring into the pitch-black night sky.
Why can’t I get her out of my head?
What is it about her that has me torn in half without her?
Is it really fate? Or is it simply that the witch in Hazel has seeped her way into my veins and sewed herself into my being? I don’t know, and I think that’s the worst part.
I finish my blunt, then stub it out on my patio. Turning over, I plant my hands on the ground and push myself out of the hot tub. Walking toward my towel on the nearby chair, I drape it over my shoulders and grab my phone as I head back inside.
I unlock it, as I decide to call the one person who can give me advice. Going to my kitchen, I grab the bottle of bourbon on the counter and a tumbler as I dial one of the only numbers I know by heart.
“Felix,” Malik says, slightly surprised to hear me, which makes me feel even more like an ass.
“You busy?” I ask, pouring myself a full glass, then I set the bottle on the counter and screw on the top, pinning the phone between my jaw and shoulder. I can feel the water from the hot tub running down my legs, dripping from my feet and onto the floor.
“I’m not. What’s wrong?” he asks, sounding suspicious.
“I just have a few things to run by you. Come over for a minute?”
I rarely ask anyone for advice, always marching to the beat of my own drum, figuring shit out on the fly. I let myself stumble and pick myself back up.
But I’m fucking humble enough to know when I need some advice, and if anyone would know how to answer my questions, it’s Malik. He’s been through hell and back with Vera. They shouldn’t have survived, but they’ve both come out twice as strong.
I’ve never been envious of them, but somehow, they’ve become the power couple, and I wonder why I suddenly want that too.
