forloveofpetrichor
It was actually much worse than she had expected. She told him the truth, every last part of it, and he just walked away. It hurt like nothing she had ever felt before, not in a physical way. Not like a cut or a bruise or a broken bone, but a deep aching that hadn't even begun to go away.
He was so scattered. Everything was out of place. The room was scattered as well, as if it was reflecting his insides. His papers were splayed across the floor and a week's worth of clothes was piled on his desks. This was what happened when he stopped caring.
This season was the weirdest he's ever seen. The winter seemed to come and go. She insisted it was normal, that these things tend to happen once in a while, but he was less sure. Snow fell once a week, and it was warm the next day. It didn't seem to make any sense, but then again, nothing did these days.
Five. For five years Xavier had waited for her to come back to him. It was foolish, of course, just idiotic. Why would she forgive him for leaving her alone when he had always promised to do otherwise? It wasn't fair. And now, he would never get the chance to see her ever again.