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The school library isn't the most interesting place to be, especially during lunchtime.

To make things clear: No, I am not a social outcast. I just preferred the library to ... socialising. Technically, I wasn't supposed to be in here, but the librarian knew me and she wouldn't mind if I'd been in here during lunch break. I wasn't a troublesome student.

I shrugged off my bag, seating myself leisurely at the centre table. I pushed my brown locks out of my eyes, tucking a stray strand behind my ear. My mind drifted to a million different things as I reached for my bag, noisily unzipping it. The sound of a chair - not mine - screeching made me freeze.

I wasn't alone.

I kept silent, listening for any other signs that someone was here, aside from my own insanity. A part of me realised that whoever it was wouldn't be stupid and suddenly show themselves, having obviously heard me. The silence lasted all of ten seconds before sobs filled in the space. Broken, heart wrenching sobs, of a voice hauntingly, heart-stoppingly familiar.

I got up before I could control myself, already walking towards the sounds. My hands traced the smooth mahogany, my heart pounding in my ears. There was no way. As I turned the corner, my breath caught in my throat. No way, my foot. 

It was her. I had been avoiding her since the start of the year, giving my broken heart time to heal. It was difficult seeing her like this.

Her soft features had since matured, giving way to a beautiful jawline and lips. Her hair fell over her shoulders in waves, the chestnut brown looking almost golden in the sunlight. The rest of her body was silhouetted as she sat under the window.

And she was crying.

In all my time of dating Rowan Illea, I had never seen her cry. Not when I confessed, not when we hit the fiercest of obstacles, nor when it all went spinning out of control. Hell, not even when we broke up.

So watching her sob, curled up into a ball against the wall, head between her legs, hands trembling, was terrifying. Watching her body shake with the sheer force of her pain was something that burnt through my eyes, imprinting itself into my brain. It was an image I would never forget, not until the day I died.

I knelt down next to her, gingerly resting my hand on top of hers. Electricity tingled through my fingertips, but I ignored it. That wasn't important right now.

"Rowan? Are you ok?" The words were so gentle - it was like I was talking to a child. It was a stupid thing to ask. She was so very obviously not okay. I mentally kicked myself, preparing to try again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude." She spoke before I could, abruptly pulling her hand away from mine. My hand mourned the loss of her warmth. I took a long breath to ground myself. I was shaken from seeing her cry, but I wasn't going to act this pathetic.

I pulled myself together, forcing some words out of my mouth. "What happened?"

I felt like face palming after asking that. I don't know what possessed me to ask her that, when it was obviously not my business. I wanted to hug her and comfort her and tell her everything would be alright, but I couldn't do any of that. And now I was asking her like some stranger about what happened. Real smooth.

I told my brain to shut up, or start working properly.  It wasn't my fault it couldn't operate like a normal functioning human.

"Nothing, I'm so sorry. I was just having a shitty day. I don't know what came over me. I'll leave now." She said, wiping furiously at her eyes and fumbling to stand up. I stayed crouching.

"Since when has a shitty day ever made you  break down?" I asked. I then proceeded to bite my tongue so hard I tasted blood. Why could I not just be like a normal person and comfort her?

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