I didn't think I'd ever get tired of kissing Grey. I didn't think I'd ever get tired of feeling his hands trace lines on my skin, connecting the freckles on my shoulders and creating made up constellations. I didn't think I'd ever get tired of his eyes, beautiful and quiet like the calm before a storm, even though the storm never came.

At least, not until the police showed up at the Fischer's front door. 

My leather jacket was draped over Grey's desk chair, my uncomfortable black heels that Leah made me wear strewn across the floor beside Grey's shirt. I was still a bit riled from my fight with her earlier, after she dragged me to one of Freya's sorority parties. Freya made it very clear she didn't want me there, and Leah took her side. I wasn't as surprised as I should have been, and the thought made me ill.

"You okay?" Grey mumbled into my ear. 

I shook all the bad thoughts away, letting myself get lost in Grey's arms and the musky scent of his cologne. 

"I'm okay," I whispered back. "I'm better now that I'm with you."

Grey kissed the top of my head, sending another warm, lustful feeling ripping through me. "Kenny...I..." he paused and licked his lips, and the silence put me on edge. "I think I'm in love with you."

My heart nearly burst in my chest, filling it with so much pressure I struggled to find my words. "Grey..." 

Our moment was interrupted by a knock at the Fischer's front door. It was nearly midnight, and I instantly felt Grey tense beside me. A commotion started outside Grey's door, which I assumed was Mr. Fischer about to tell off whoever was bothering them so late. After a few moments of silence, Grey shifted beside me again.

"I'm going to see what's happening," he said as he hoisted himself out of bed. "Stay here."

I wiggled myself further under the covers as Grey slipped out of his bedroom door. The longer the silence went on, the more unnerved I became. I quietly slid out of bed and put my ear to the door. I heard a voice I didn't recognize cut through the silence, hushed but deadly serious.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fischer...I'm sorry to bother you this late. This is about your daughter, Leah."

Despite being surrounded by reminders of my mistakes and shortcomings, I had grown pretty comfortable in the past few months back on Finnick Island. Sure, there was all kinds of bad around me, but there was good too. Being back with my mother, for example, even though she was weird and forgetful sometimes, she was all I had, and she loved me unconditionally, despite me being an all around pretty shitty daughter. 

I had also grown used to living in a place where I could walk almost anywhere I needed to go, and the sun would hang high over my head late into the day, finding a way to co-habitate with the moon even though they didn't belong together. 

Grey and I didn't belong together either, but somehow we were. I was like the sun, hot and fiery and often burned people. He was like the moon, dark and mysterious, but beautiful despite his flaws. But when winter came, the sun and the moon no longer shared the same sky, and they became strangers once again. I guess Grey and I were like that too, destined to cross paths every once in a while, but never truly meant to be. 

I shoved the last of my hoodies in a crumpled mess in my duffle bag before zipping it up and tossing it by the door. I had gone back to Grey's house to pick up the remainder of my things while he was at work, unable to even look him in the face knowing what I knew. At first, he called and texted me constantly, begging to let me hear him out, but I couldn't. I couldn't swallow the knot in my throat knowing I'd lose him the same way I lost Leah, completely helpless and unable to do anything about it. Eventually, he stopped trying, and eventually, I stopped crying myself to sleep.

I had gotten an email about a job offer in San Diego a few weeks later, and without giving it a second thought, I packed my shit up and booked a flight. I was just about ready to leave when my mother slid into my now empty room and sat at the edge of my bed.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to stay?" she asked, an uncharacteristic glint of sadness in her hazel eyes.

"No," I shook my head. "Are you sure I can't convince you to move?"

My mother gave me a slight chuckle. "Maybe when I'm old and gray and can't handle the cold anymore."

I let out a heavy breath, watching little balls of dust roll around in the corners of my room. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you ever miss Dad?" I fiddled with the distressed sleeves of my sweatshirt, still keeping my eyes to the floor.

My mother pursed her lips, losing herself in thought for a moment. "I think sometimes there's something I miss, though not necessarily him in the flesh. I think I miss someone who could clean the gutters out, or jump the car engine. Sometimes I even miss just having another warm body laying in bed next to me."

After knowing what it was like sleeping next to Grey every night, then suddenly alone again, I actually understood how she felt. 

"But..." she added, giving me a faint grin. "I've also learned how to do all those things myself, and being alone and independent isn't as negative an experience as everyone often makes it out to be. So I guess the short answer is no, I don't miss him. His absence has taught me all I could ever want to know."

"Do you hate him for leaving?" I asked. Though I didn't say it, I wanted to know if she hated me for leaving too?

"No, I don't." She shook her head. "I used to hate myself for making the mistakes I've made, but I did get you out of it all." 

I gave her a half smile, but still felt unsettled in my stomach. "How do you not hate yourself?" I asked softly. "I mean...for the mistakes you've made?"

"Accept that they've happened," she shrugged. "And hell, it's weirder if you don't make mistakes. You just have to make sure you learn something from them, and realize that over time things will get better. Try and see the silver lining of a gray cloud, you know?"

"I feel like I've done nothing but make mistakes..." my voice nearly dropped to a whisper, and tears stung the corners of my eyes. "...and I just feel like a bad person."

"Well, you didn't get pregnant at 17 from a one-night stand," she tried to inject humor into the situation, which did get a slight chuckle out of me. "Honey, if all you've ever done is broke somebody's heart, I don't think that makes you a bad person, but it does make you a fool if you keep trying to push away something that you know will make you happy. What your father and I had wasn't right. It wasn't good. But when you have something good, you better cling onto that like it's the very air you breathe."

I let a tear trickle down my cheek, leaving a tiny spot on my bare mattress. My heart still hurt, hell it ached like someone was trying to squeeze every drop of blood out of it, but I knew if I wanted that feeling to go away, I'd have to re-open some other wounds.