It's cold.

I tug the blanket higher up over my head. My head feels like I slammed it against the wall multiple times. It hurts so much that I want to disappear. My eyelids weigh a thousand pounds.

My phone starts to chime, making it worse. But I see it's Harley from where I'm sprawled across the couch. The TV screen is still blaring from last night. Without getting up, I pick up and press the phone to my ear, waiting for Harley to talk.

"You coming to work today, Brax?" he asks tentatively.

"Yeah." I choke out of my clogged throat.

"You have a hangover." It's a statement. I sigh. "You don't have to come, you know. Just give me the word and I'll tell boss."

"I'm coming." I tell him. I need to keep busy or I'll end up like this every night.

That is the way most people avoid things. They keep themselves busy; they're on the go all day long. Work, friends, other work, and other friends. Rinse and repeat till they collapse and wake up to the same thing again. These are the people running away from something they're afraid to face.

More often than not it's themselves they're afraid of.

Harley hesitantly agrees and hangs up, and my eyes wander to the window leaking sunlight into the room, throwing light on the granite counter of the kitchen.

I see us.

I see us making breakfast together in the kitchen. She's wearing my shirt and laughing as I accidentally press the egg too hard, making the insides spill into the bowl with the shells. She's teasing me as I off-handedly try to dismiss her remarks. Those times she teased me for being too strong.

I wish I was.

But how would she know, right?

An animalistic growl escapes me as I hit my head against the backrest of the couch, trying to shake the memory.

One big and empty house.

And I'm being caved into four small walls closing in on me.

They whisper her name, her words; her face, her eyes; but they can't whisper her presence. I feel suspended, like if I move I'll fall down an endless hole with nothing to hold, nothing to catch me. Like there's nothing keeping me in place.

These times it's her I want to hold, but she's the one not there. Sometimes I feel like holding the memories is like I am holding her, but she just fades into dust.

Leaving me to fall.

Tumbling through an endless void.

And I don't know what to do anymore, who I am anymore, what I feel anymore.

I know I've always loved her. I never stopped.

But what can you do when you love someone who's gone?

***

A/N: Guys, again, I'm so sorry about the late update. Things have been real messed up lately. But I'll try my best to post in time now!

However, there was one question I had, folks. Does this story seem repetitive? Does it seem like it's going in no direction? Please let me know. I thought this chapter was pretty generic, but it's the one which expresses Braxton's thoughts with best clarity.

I just hope I can get through the character development without seeming like I'm dragging it out... *sigh*

Anyways, hope you liked this chapter!

Signed,

InBlack