64

I woke up a lot later than usual the next morning. My eyes fluttered, trying to keep out the sort of light that came from the late morning sun. They could only do so much, as the rays fell right on my face, from the window I had left open the night before.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I suppressed a groan in frustration. I had woken up very irritable and the stupid light from the window wasn't doing any favors to my mood whatsoever.

This made me wonder why I was angry at a window. It took a minute, but I soon remembered that I wasn't angry at the inanimate object, I was angry at something— someone else. Elizabeth.

I opened my eyes fully and was bombarded by the brightness that I had been trying to avoid for so long. Soon the light faded and all of the things in my room began to morph into view. The bed, the chairs, the wardrobes, they were all there. The only thing missing was the woman who had shared my bed for some time now.

I wasn't even surprised by this, I was the one who had stormed of