Unexplained Longing || Self Para 001
He didn’t know why he even bothered to check anymore; he knew she wasn’t going to be there. But still, he found himself wandering into her room at all hours of the night hoping that when he entered he’d find her there. Dark, sultry blue-green eyes staring up at him from her bed, that malicious, sexy smirk playing on her plump lips that was saved just for him.
But she wasn’t there. She hasn’t been here for a week. Kathryn was no where to be found and yet she’s everywhere he looked. Even when he wasn’t looking around for her, she still seemed to follow him in some shape or form. There were pictures of her in the house, resting on the mantle above the fireplace, in his bedroom, in her bedroom, wherever. Her name was a common topic of discussion in the streets of Manhattan, let alone their school.
He just couldn’t escape her, not that he’d ever want to.
So when he pulled the doors open to reveal Kathryn’s cerulean and silver accented room, Sebastian Hawthorne welcomed the disappointment that he felt not for the first time that week. The room still smelled like her though, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the sanctuary’s atmosphere. He was careful when he made his way through there, like he hadn’t been uncountable times before, his steps slow and light.
It was like he was intruding almost, like this was a forbidden part of the house when she wasn’t here. But he couldn’t help it when he made it to her bed, his pointer and middle fingers running along and leaving indents in the otherwise neatly arranged silk comforter. It almost felt as soft as her skin, he noted as he neared her pillows.
The scent was strong here, more like her shampoo than her perfume, but still her just the same. A freshly washed Kathryn was almost like an innocent version of Kathryn, her aroma that of… Lavender, maybe? A hint of vanilla? The mixture combining with her natural pheromones was his favorite.
His slow hands reached for one of her pillows, lifting it to his nose with a sense of longing that he couldn’t explain. Though he knew the house was empty, Sebastian stood completely still, silent. His father and gold-digging step-mother were out of town for the week, vacationing somewhere undesirable and incredibly mediocre. The help had left hours ago, and in fact, should be arriving to start the next day’s work in a few hours. It was just Sebastian in the Gothic-style townhouse, no Edward, no Tiffany, no help. And importantly, no Kathryn.
Finally, with a sense of security in his isolation, he breathed in the heavenly scent that lingered on the Devil’s pillow. And with that long, slow sniff Sebastian realized what he was feeling.
That explained everything. He lost sleep because he missed her so much. For the past week, he’s lucky if he got so much as an hour’s sleep. The purplish bags under his eyes are evident enough of that. With insomnia, you were never really asleep, but you were never really awake. And he didn’t know if the insomnia or the longing for her were to blame when Sebastian thought he caught whiff of her scent, or when he swore he heard her laughter.
Or maybe it was just his mind, which was constantly on Kathryn, playing tricks on him.
