𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬┊✓

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penultimate

[ latin for second to last ]

THIRD PERSON POV

A week and a half has blurred past everyone in the Worthington mansion, each day being a repeat of the last - dreary, melancholic, and full of sniffling and tears. Phoenix found himself locked away in his room, occasionally coming out only to walk into her room and cry—as he did in his own—or go into the kitchen for food and liqueur.

He avoided the crew, not accepting or offering sympathy to his friends, his family, wallowing away in the depths of self pity, by himself. He couldn't walk around the mansion, let alone face the crew, for Adrianna's ghost lingered painfully, and memories of all their time together replayed endlessly in his mind, torturing him. It was painful enough for the few minutes he let himself be vulnerable in front of their eyes as he walked throughout the mansion from his or her room to the kitchen - though he did so with a blank face, blatantly ignoring them.

His guilt was eating him up alive, he knew he wasn't the only one suffering; his sister he often saw was dressed with puffy, bloodshot eyes and all the guys missed her, evident with their crestfallen faces. But he knew, God, how he only knew, deep down, that even though Adrianna acted—rightfully so—implausible, he was the reason for it, he drove her over the edge, he broke her.

Though he couldn't withstand—and was barely surviving—seeing Adrianna as a faint memory behind his eyes, he couldn't let her go yet. He didn't think he would ever be ready to let her go.

Phoenix Worthington, in short, was a walking paradox.

He couldn't bring himself to talk about her with his brother, his sister, or even his best friends since childhood. She, to him, was his precious secret - every moment spent together was unreproducible. She was all he thought about at every living moment.

He just couldn't-

He lost his thought for the millionth time this past week. His head was spinning. Every concept he pondered over became a lost concept within moments. He couldn't focus solely on one thing and he was losing more and more of himself with each passing moment.

Meanwhile Phoenix was letting his life slip little by little through his fingers, mourning his loss that he wasn't sure he'd ever get back, Blake and the rest stayed in each other's company, leaning on each other. And trying day and night, hours on end, to solve the enigma that was Adrianna Vasiliev. For Phoenix, Blake, Pyper, and Hunter, especially Hunter since he had only just gotten her back, it felt to them - more so than to the others - that Adrianna was a brewing chaotic storm that left just as quick as it hit.

In the living room, Blake sighed in distress, shooting Talon a grateful look as the latter looked back over his shoulder and nodded subtly as he headed out the door with his arm around Pyper's shoulder. Though Pyper was as miserable as one could get—not including Phoenix of course—and wouldn't leave the mansion all this past week, stubbornly staying with the guys as they tired every possible idea they could think of to find Adrianna, Talon had miraculously and finally got her to take a break and go out with him.

Marlowe and Elieze were curled up in each other on the chesterfield, sleeping, relaxing for the first time all week. Marlowe and Adrianna always had their boundless tie, a special friendship that was precious to them both, and that was enough for Marlowe to miss her tenderly - more so with each passing moment. Marlowe wasn't exactly sure whether he was mad at Adrianna for just leaving, or Phoenix for crashing them.