Third Person

We shared our vulnerabilities more readily than trading cards, interlocking our hearts as much as our fingers. You took root in me in a way I have never let another soul do, feeling that you were my shelter and I was yours. To come so close to pure love and lose it so violently is something no medication can heal. Life has seen fit to take you too soon, my love, and my heart is broken beyond mortal repair. What beats in my chest is merely a mass of angry muscle that will function only till I can avenge her. I have to believe you are out there, my love, that there will be a next life for us, that we will fall in love all over again. It's all-

A sudden knock interrupted Robert's writing, causing his eyes to shift off from the paper and to the door. Robert roughly rubbed his forehead, feeling his entire muscles tense.

"Sorry to bother you Robert," Carter quietly entered, gradually closing the door. Carter walked in with a book in his hand and the other was shoving his glasses back up. "Everyone wants to know when the funeral is taking place."

Robert exhaled, rubbing his frustrated temples. "Not sure yet. I haven't contacted my friends yet from the graveyard."

"I also just wanted to check up on you. You haven't spoken to anyone since yesterday," Carter said, walking over to his desk. Carter's eyes gazed over his desk, which was covered in crumples notes. Only one note was placed in front of Robert, uncrumpled but saturated with slashes. "You aren't going to like end it, right?" Carter blurted out.

Robert shook his head. "No, no, I'm just mourning like everyone else."

"You know I can read your thoughts right," Carter arched one of his brows while patting Robert's shoulders. It was an invasion of privacy, but Carter couldn't contain himself. He needed to know if Robert was considering certain measures.

"And you know that's an invasion of my privacy," Robert answered, glaring towards the pale shorter man.

"Yeah, but I have to make sure everyone is okay," Carter replied, dumping his body in the beanbag next to his black desk.

"And are they?"

"Lucas and Drew are taking it hard. There thoughts keep flooding in even without me allowing them," Carter explained, opening his book, flicking over the pages.

Robert's heart was clogged up with guilt, regret, and remorse. The night before, Robert promised to Imi that he would make sure she continued on with her life. Imogen warned him about making the promise, but he insisted and — now look where it got him.

Certainly, Robert didn't expect he would lose them both to Taisla. Days without Dany were dull, and deep down Robert wasn't ready to face his inner demons. Dany was his escape. Now he's lost without her, like a balloon on a string that flown away. How was he going to be able to lead the families? If he couldn't even lead himself?

----

Drew has been cooped up in his room since they came back from the ritual. Once Drew closed his door, his body slid down the doorframe and it hasn't moved an inch since. Hours have passed yet no tears has sprung from his eyes. Drew's emotions swirled like ocean currents, deep and strong. Drew can't help but felt afraid to dive in his sentiments, fearing he won't make it out.

The warm ball of light filtered through his thin eyelids, causing his eyes to flutter open. Rays of brightness cast squares onto the glossy stone floor, reflecting on his face along with several other objects. Drew's hand struck out to cover his face, wanting to go back to the darkness. Drew felt his phone buzzing against his body, which forced him to pull it out.

"Shit..." Drew mumbled, skimming over the fifty texts he has gotten from his teammates. The last football game was today, but he was in no shape to attend and perform. Before he could exit his messages, a certain girl who owned his heart had sent him a message.

Imogen

Suddenly, a single tear slide down from his warm, emerald eyes, followed by another and another one, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed its way down his tan cheek, releasing the sadness and sorrow that had been held inside of him all this time but still did not make a sound. Well, his mouth didn't; Drew couldn't help but bang on the door, urging to punch someone or something.

"How could I have let this happen," Drew murmured, his eyes burning and his chest felt heavy like it was filled up with lead.

A knock on the door caught Drew's attention. Instantly his hands whipped away his tears before lifting himself to open the door. He opened the door, revealing a disheveled crimson puff eyed Lucas. Lucas entered the room, roaming towards Drew's bay window.

Lucas latched onto a cushion, holding it tightly while his eyes roamed the streets showcased from the window. After a few moments, Drew followed suit, sitting next to Lucas. Drew watched as Lucas kept whipping his tears with his sleeves. Drew questioned why he was so comfortable letting himself break in front of him.

"I came up here because I found this sitting on my bed," Lucas said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a letter with "Lucas" scribbled on it.

"Is it fro-,"

"Yes," Lucas interrupted, fearing that would break down even more if her name is mentioned. "I don't think I can bring myself to read it anytime soon."

"So, you want me to read it?" Drew asked, scratching the nape of his neck.

"Maybe just hold it for a bit, if you don't mind. I know your hurting too even if you wanted to pretend you weren't crying before I enter the room," Lucas said, catching Drew off-guard.

"I'll hold it until your ready to read what she wanted to tell you," Drew answered, reaching over for the letter but Lucas pulled his hand back.

"Promise you won't read it," Lucas demanded, using his other wrist to wipe his button nose.

"Yeah, Yeah, I promise," Drew said, snatching the letter from his grip and shoving it into his pocket.

Of course, curiosity passed through Drew's thoughts. Why did Imogen leave Lucas a letter but not him? His heart ached realizing how important he was to her in Imogen's final moments. He should have expected it; he did deteriorate the only hope she had left just two days before. But still Drew expected a farewell message.

"Let's go make ourselves some food," Drew said, lifting himself from the bench.

"I'm not in the mood to eat, breathe, or move," Lucas sighed, leaning his head against the window and shutting his eyes.

"Calm on, Im-, she would want you to eat," Drew said, dragging Lucas by his arm, prying him from the bench.

Lucas groaned as he followed Drew down the stairs and into the kitchen. Lucas didn't want to move; he felt like every place around the house was a reminder about her. Lucas placed his head into his hand, covering his eyes. His mind was replaying the food fight he had with Imogen and how delighted they both were back then. It felt like ages ago. Suddenly, images of her bloody body he was cradling filled his mind.

The thoughts were accelerating inside his head. Lucas wanted them to slow so he could gather his breaths but they wouldn't. His breaths came in gasps and he felt like he would black out in any moment. His heart was hammering inside his chest like it belonged to a rabbit running for its skin.

"Lucas," Drew said, causing Lucas to snap towards his direction. "Are you okay?"

Lucas nodded, feeling his pulse returning to it's normal rate. Lucas craned his neck when the kicthen door sound open, his father appearing. His father came over, placing a peck on Lucas's head before scruffing his blonde knots.

"Have you gotten any sleep, Luke?" His father asked, wandering towards the refrigerator and searching for a refreshment. He pulled out a bottle of orange juice and shook it up before opening it.

"Not really," Lucas answered.

"Son, your body needs rest," His father said, rubbing his son's tense shoulders. "Your mother and I are going to get you some medicine to help you sleep tonight."

"Thank you, Dad," Lucas sighed, feeling his chest heavy, and his eyes hefty.

Lucas's entire body begged for sleep but his thoughts kept him awake. Losing Imogen was worst-case scenario along with the others who ended up losing their lives as well. How could any of them come back from this?

"Do you think she's watching us," Lucas faltered.

"I bet she's right next to you," his father whispered into his ear. He placed another small kiss on his head before heading out of the kitchen.

Lucas glanced towards Drew who was mixing wet ingredients with the dry. Drew sprayed butter on the pan and while it was heating up. He continued to mix the ingredients and waited until it was time to pour onto the pan. Once the pan was hot enough, Drew used the scooper to pour into the pan. Drew attempted to create a mickey mouse face; maybe it would bring a smile to his face, Drew speculated.

He failed. Drew's mickey mouse attempted looked uneven and deformed. He continued to experiment with the batter, forming different shapes and objects. The best one was the heart which was made by Drew accidentally spilling the batter in a slanted form in the pan. While the last pancake was cooking, Drew wandered towards the cabinets, pulling out whipped cream and chocolate chips.

Drew used the chocolate chip for Mickey's eyes and whipped cream for his smile. He also placed the heart pancake onto Lucas's plate before bringing over to him. The rest of pancakes were for anyone else whose hungry. Drew doesn't expect Lucas to eat more than two bites of his pancake but he will encourage him if he has to.

Lucas played with his fork while waiting for the plate to arrive in front of him. Once Drew placed the plate down, Lucas used his fork to rotate around the chocolate chips. Usually the aroma of pancakes would caused Lucas's stomach to grumble but now the smell made him nauseous. The only way for his body to gain strength was to consume some calories and nutrition.

"Do you like the Mickey mouse face?" Drew asked, his pointer finger gesturing at Lucas's plate.

Lucas yawned, wiping the boogers forming in his eyes. His eyes glanced down to notice the face deformed but he couldn't help to smile. "Yeah, didn't notice it till now," Lucas answered, reaching for his knife to cut his cakes into bite-sized pieces.

"Do you want some milk?" Drew asked, shoving the piece of pancake that was hanging off his fork. Before he could answer, Drew boosted from his chair and walked to the refrigerator. Drew poured them two glasses, and continued munching down his food.

Aburtly, the kitchen door jolted open revealing ruffled Robert, his face showcasing endless stress wrinkles.

"Afternoon," Robert's voice echoed through the silent room catching the other attention.

"Hi," They both answered in unison.

"Just a few moments ago I called up my friends from the burial ground. I decided to schedule the funeral next week so all of us could gather our final thoughts for the ceremony," Robert explained, running his fingers through his charcoal hair. Robert pulled his glasses up behind his ears.

"Do we have to make a speech?" Lucas asked, complementing over eating the pancake on his fork.

The thought of having to talk about his soulmate in front of everyone terrified Lucas. His biggest fear is falling apart in front of everyone before even starting his speech. Lucas wouldn't even know what to say about Imogen. A thousands words could describe her but Lucas couldn't put anything into sentences.

"No one is forcing you, Lucas. I'm not even sure if I want to make a speech. . . Everything still feels surreal," Robert whispered the ending. "I think Julian would like to make speech and Rebel, probably Frankie as well."

"I would like to help chose the co-f-fin," Lucas hesitated.

"Of course, we can go during the week." Robert answered.

Drew grobbled down his last piece of pancake, glacing towards Lucas's full stacked plate. Drew reached his hand forward at his plate, and stabbing his fork into one of Lucas's pieces.

"There are really good! You should eat it," Drew said, watching Lucas finally take one piece into his mouth.

Suddenly, the door bell rang through the house catching the boys attention. Lucas jolted from his chair and walked out of the kitchen door. He followed down the hall, reaching the front door and opening it.

A brown haired man is slumped against the column, his windswept locks matted and dull like he hadn't showered in ages. His skin was so pale it had a waxy appearance and at first Lucas thought he was dead. His hair seemed dirty but his outfit showed another story. His broad shoulder was fitted in checked shirt with two buttons left open along with black rope on top of it. Pressed khaki trousers to match his brown scarf.

"Yes?" Lucas said, his brows furrowing at the arm crossed man.

"Finally I found you," he answered, uncrossing his arms from his chest and walking closer to the door.

"Who are you?" Lucas questioned, debating over if he should close the door.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. How silly," He said, his hand reaching forward for Lucas. "Hi, I'm your uncle Lorenzo and I'm here to help you get your girlfriend back," he smirked waiting for a shocked Lucas to shake his hand.

Thank you for reading the new chapter!!!! It was a very heart filled heavy one to write. All the characters are suffering right now but there seems to be some glimmer of hope...
Thank you for every vote comment and just reading !!