ROGUE

15 : 730 Days Ago

Your POV
Two years later

Seven-hundred and thirty days ago, the love of my life died.

That's exactly two years.
That's exactly twenty four months.
That's exactly one-hundred and four weeks.
That's exactly seventeen-thousand, five-hundred and twenty hours.
That's exactly one million, fifty-one thousand and two-hundred minutes.

And that's exactly how long I've been broken for, and as you can tell, I've pretty much gone insane.

I remember the last time I saw him as if it was only yesterday. I remember the tears in his eyes and the pained smile that was falsely painted over his flawless lips.
I also remember the last thing he said to me as walked out of those hotel doors. 
'I'll see you again.'
He said that only ten days before he took his own life and left me broken-hearted and grieving.

Today, however, was the anniversary of his death, and it had been sickly turned into a day of celebration; almost like a holiday.
It was supposed to remind American Citizens that 'not every bad thing is permanent', but the grief I still felt for Jason seemed to be lasting forever, so I strongly disagreed with that pathetic statement.
Today was also supposed to be a memorial day for all those who had lost their lives because of Jason. I knew a fair share of people who I should've payed my respects to, but I knew that doing so would simply feel wrong.
Believe it or not, a statue had been placed in the LockHart Town Square where Jason had died, and a short ceremony was held every year on his anniversary - not for Jason's honour, but for everyone who lost their lives because of him.
I couldn't bring myself to go the first time; for all my scars were open and bleeding. I was trying my hardest to get my life back on track, but with no word from Matt, Jake or Alara, I was struggling and I literally had nobody. I knew that going to a memorial for my dead lover would just break me apart.

Nonetheless, this year, I had new friends, a new job, and even a new boyfriend.
The sad thing was that I didn't have any feelings for him what-so-ever, but I used him as a distraction. If I didn't have Sam, missing Jason would become too overbearing and I would probably end up doing something beyond stupid -
Just like Jason did.

Those were exactly my thoughts as Sam climbed off me and flopped down beside me under the soft white covers. Sweat was glistening on his chest which crawled with skeletal tattoos, his dark black hair clung to his forehead and he was panting heavily.
I knew it was sick that I was thinking about my dead-ex-boyfriend whilst sleeping with another guy, but I generally could not help it.
Jason haunted all my thoughts, and that's just how my mind had adapted to work.

"Fuck, baby. That was incredible." Sam breathed, fluttering his eyes shut. "You're definitely the best I've ever had, and you know I've got a thing for morning sex."

I rolled my eyes irritably and honestly felt like gagging. Despite the fact that Sam had the body of a god, he could not make me feel the way Jason could, and sex was becoming more of a routine than something I enjoyed; especially how Sam would literally start throwing things if I ever said no.
"You're mistaking this for love." I muttered under my breath as I rolled over to turn my back to him. I blinked hard against the morning sunlight and dreaded the pain that I knew I was going to feel as soon as I got up.
Sam knew I had suffered from an intense heartbreak, but he was helplessly blind to the fact that Jason McCann was my ex and I once killed a man to save his life.

"What did you say, babe?" Sam rasped.

"Nothing." I whispered, all of a sudden feeling a sharp burn to the back of my eyes.
Don't cry, you can't cry.
I quickly inhaled a deep breath and rubbed my hand over my face. "I should probably get up and shower. I've got a long day ahead."

"Why's that? I thought you said you were going to take a day off at work today." I felt Sam shifting against our mattress, and my whole body tensed. I didn't like being near him; something about him made me feel scared and vulnerable, but everything we did together made it believable that I wanted to be in this relationship. The truth was that I actually didn't, but I didn't want to be alone either.

"I'm going to a memorial." I said bluntly, swallowing the hard ball of saliva which had quickly gathered in the back of my throat.
"I don't want to talk about it. Please stop asking me."

And with that, I pushed myself out of bed and headed towards the bathroom before Sam could say anything else.
It was obvious that I wasn't the most affectionate girlfriend, but he was getting what he wanted and that's all he cared about.
In all honesty, I didn't care if I was being used.

I didn't really care about anything anymore.

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Thanks for reading

this was just a filler xx