Windows had always been overlooked, in Roya's opinion. After all, they were both practical and served a metaphorical purpose. They were havens for the observant, homes of the lonely, and the host of all great minds. They were also where Roya felt most comfortable. Particularly one window, which he sat by every day, on his lunch break. It was a window on the second story of a two-story house, the house in the upper class neighborhood. The house where Damien lived.

For the past two weeks Roya has been visiting Damien during his lunch hour, climbing up the apple tree, and sitting in the window sill. Damien would talk to him, about his father's latest business deal, his mother's latest gossip, and the last time his sister aggravated him. Damien had so many jokes, usually cheesy ones with a predictable punchline. Yet they still made Roya laugh, despite all cheesy predictability.

It was one Monday afternoon that things took a turn. For better, or for worse.

Roya had turned the corner onto the upper class neighborhood, as usual. He grabbed onto the lowest branch on the apple tree, as usual. He climbed to the top, as usual. He situated himself on the windowsill, as usual. He knocked on the glass, as usual. Damien answered, as usual.

But Damien was crying, which was not usual.

Roya sat, frozen in shock. Tears were running down Damien's face, and silent sobs racked his body.

"Damien! What happened."
Roya asked, his voice shaking. He had never seen Damien in such a distressed state.

"I'm fine... I'm fine.." Damien said, reaching to close the window.

Roya grabbed Damien's hand, keeping him from shutting the window. "You're obviously not, what's wrong?"

Damien didn't answer, but rather sobbed even harder. Roya, instead of inquiring further, simply wrapped his arms around Damien, and let him cry. He cried for what seemed like days, and it was the most heartbreaking thing Roya had ever seen. The bell chimed in the distance, signalling the end of lunch hour.

"You have to g-go." Damien sputtered, wiping his eyes and pulling away from Roya.

"I sure as heck don't." Roya said firmly, taking Damien's hand.

"B-but, your classes!" Damien protested, once again retracting away from Roya.

"You're more important than Geometry." Roya said.
"Now, are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Damien took a deep breath, and began,
"My Aunt Louisa died yesterday. She and my mom were really close. It's just so hard to believe..s-she gone." He sobbed again, and a minute passed before he could muster another statement.

"My cousin Charlotte is coming to live with us. She's going to share a room with me, which means you won't be able to come visit anymore..."

Roya nodded. He understood the pain of loosing a loved one, and having to care for another one.

"How long have we got?" He asked.

Damien looked at him.
"What do you mean?"

"How long until your cousin gets here?"

"A week." Damien said, looking confused.

Roya grabbed Damien's hand.

"Have you ever been to the Art District?"

•••
Three updates in day.

My brain can only take so much this late at night.