Rose

I peered through the curtain, careful not to rustle it too much, and creepily watched as Sebastian picked up the painting from my pile of garbage. The look on his face was enough to make me feel horrible for throwing it out. But what else was I supposed to do?

Caleb was dead.

Caleb was dead.

And last night, when Sebastian told me that my work was beautiful, when he looked at me like he could truly see me... My heart flipped in my chest and a familiar feeling of toe-curling warmth spread through me.

And I hated every second of it. Because the last time a feeling like that crept its way through me, I was laying in bed wrapped in Caleb's arms.

The feeling flashed within me for a split second, long enough for me to acknowledge it, before the aching guilt set in. The self-hatred. The anger. Caleb made my heart flip. And only him. It felt wrong for another person, especially one that was still practically a stranger, to make my heart do the same tricks.

And when Sebastian said those words to me, when he reminded me that my heart was very much still capable of functioning properly ... It scared the shit out of me. And for once, I actually missed the feeling of a knife scrapping its way down my heart because the grief was easier to handle than the guilt.

So I channeled the actions of every dramatic protagonist I had seen in a romance film and shut the door in his face. In the middle of the night, when I was sure no one would see, I threw the painting out.

But the small fact that Sebastian was the one who picked up the damn garbage escaped my mind completely.

Now, here I was — watching as he slowly grabbed the canvas and stared at it. When he glanced up at my cabin, even with the distance between us, I could see the sadness on his face. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run outside and apologize and explain to him that I was the one who was damaged. That I was the garbage that should be thrown out. That this was all my fault and he had done nothing but bring out a dormant feeling within me.

But I simply stood there frozen as Sebastian quickly brought the painting back into his cabin, my mouth hanging open in surprise. Well, shit. I hadn't seen that coming.

I had no idea what made him decide to keep the painting or what good he saw in me, and I sure as hell was not about to go out there and ask. I would pretend that I hadn't witnessed this entire thing and that my painting was currently resting atop a heap of smelly, rotten garbage where it belonged.

I stared at my own chest and wondered if I could rip out my heart and throw it in a landfill, too.

It was better this way. I moved here for distance, for peace and quiet. I wanted to be alone to grieve the loss of my boyfriend and spark a new relationship with myself. Happiness and warmth were the two very last things I needed right now.

I sighed and let the curtain drop, blocking out the light from the rising sun.

* * *

Three days had passed with no sign of Sebastian. Some mornings I woke up early to try to catch a glimpse of him chopping wood or gathering the garbage — any of his morning routines — but I never saw him. It was like he had vanished into thin air.

Today, I woke up at sunrise again to peer behind my curtain but he wasn't there. I had to do something to distract myself from worrying about him so I packed up my paints and a blank canvas and trudged my way into the depths of the woods.

Now, I was standing in the middle of a forest, sweating so much that I felt like I was going to drown in it. Why was it so goddamn hot? I pulled my hair off my damp neck as I surveyed the painting in front of me. Tying my hair into a top knot, I angled my head as I scrutinized my own work.

I painted a tree. Trees were nice. Trees don't have muscular backs and long brown hair that flows in soft waves and the darkest eyes I've ever seen. Trees can't smile at me and make my heart flip.

Baby steps, I had decided was the answer to my problems. Painting Sebastian was too much of a leap — I had to start smaller. This morning, I trekked into the middle of the forest with my bag strapped to my back, found a tall tree with the perfect amount of light shining through, and painted it.

I was my own biggest critic and staring at my painting, I knew it wasn't my best because it didn't make me feel proud and warm. But that, I realized, was the best part! Staring at this painting made me feel absolutely nothing, opposed to the crushing guilt I felt after I painted Sebastian.

Sebastian.

I need to stop thinking about him!

I sighed and packed up my paints. Maybe it was too early for me to start painting again. Maybe the wounds were still too fresh and I was rushing the healing process.

You're not going to cry, I repeated over and over in my head like a mantra. I was somewhat of a master at suppressing my feelings and now, I buried them all the way down.

I drank what was left of my water as I began the walk back to my cabin. I was exhausted. My legs were aching and, even with the boots Sebastian bought me, I could feel my feet throbbing painfully.

With every step my frustration was bubbling up and I began to regret this entire morning. My mind drifted to Sebastian and what he was doing right now before I reminded myself that it didn't matter, nor did I care.

The tree line came into view and I almost screamed out of joy. Picking up my pace, I imagined taking a nice shower and washing the dirt and sweat off of me when a sound caught my attention. My footsteps halted quickly as I turned to my left.

Exhaustion and hunger made my vision blurry. I felt my body sway as I tried to focus into the think covering of trees that the sound came out of. There was something familiar about the small clearing beyond, about the smooth patch of dirt between the trees —

And then it hit me. This was the same clearing I had wandered into when I caught Sebastian sleeping in a tent. My curiosity picked up when I heard the hushed sound of someone speaking. I didn't miss the anger in their voice.

Taking off my backpack, I laid it on the ground and rested the painting on a tree trunk, careful not to make a single sound. Steadying my breath, I crept into the clearing and hid behind a tree when I spotted Sebastian standing on the opposite side.

I sighed in relief at the sight of him. At least now I knew he was alive. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest. I could only see his side profile, but I didn't miss the rigid line of his jaw and his narrow eyes.

He's angry, I realized. But who is he talking to? He was facing a thick wall of trees. Whoever he was arguing with, I couldn't see them. I could only hear the hushed sound of Sebastian's voice and see the tension in his body language.

His shoulders hunched as he ran his hands down his face. I looked away quickly. It felt like I was invading on a private moment. What was I doing? Why was I hiding behind a damn tree, spying on Sebastian?

I resisted the urge to slap myself and turned away quickly when my foot stepped on a branch and it cracked in half, the sound echoing through the quiet forest. I felt the blood drain from my face as I swore under my breath.

"Rose?" Shit.

I turned around sheepishly, like I had when that one time my mother caught me sneaking out in the middle of the night to see Caleb. I waved awkwardly at Sebastian as I tried to think of an excuse.

"Why are you hiding behind a tree?" He asked. Shit shit shit shit shit.

"Uhm," I raked my brain for something to say. My eyes darted around the clearing, waiting for the mystery person to step out of the trees and save me, but no one did.

Sebastian's gaze flickered down to my hands and his eyes widened. The paint. There were blots of paint splattered on my hands, traveling all the way up to my forearms. 

"I was painting," I blurted out, the words all coming out in a slur. Sebastian crossed his arms as he eyed me wearily. "I heard you talking to someone when I was walking back home..."

"What did you paint?" He asked quietly. His beanie today was black — the colour of his eyes.

I shrugged. "A tree." My heart beat speed up as Sebastian took a step closer to me. In the depths of his black eyes, I could see a sadness lingering.

"Did I say something wrong the other night, Rose? You just ... left. And then I found your painting in the garbage. Why?"

A wave of guilt rocked me again. I should have just kept the stupid painting. But I wasn't ready to talk about Caleb and what painting Sebastian that night had signified to me. 

I shook my head quickly. "You didn't do anything wrong, Sebastian. There's things I'm not ready to talk about. I didn't throw the painting out because it was of you. I threw it out because it meant too much to me."

He took another step closer to me. "I don't understand."

I had the overwhelming urge to kiss him. To see what it felt like to kiss someone other than Caleb. But I couldn't. I wouldn't.

I took a step back as I picked away at the dried paint coating my skin. "I don't even understand my own feelings, Sebastian. I can't expect you to." I nodded towards the tree line. "Who were you talking to?"

"No one," he replied too quickly for it to be the truth.

"I saw you talking to someone. Staring at someone. Who was it? Why were you fighting with them?" I was aware of how nosy I was being but I had the overwhelming urge to know.

He ran a trembling hand through the wavy hair sticking out of his beanie. "I was talking to myself," he said after a moment, avoiding my gaze.

I glared at him. "No you weren't." This was going nowhere. "Where were you these past few days? You just...disappeared."

"I had stuff to do." Sebastian said casually, making no indication to tell me what this "stuff" was.

"Stuff?" I scoffed. Now, I was annoyed.

"Rose —"

"Whatever, Sebastian. I get it. We both have our secrets — You told me that. I already said I'm not ready to tell you mine... I can't blame you for not wanting to tell me yours, either." 

I turned around to leave when his hand wrapped around my arm, holding me back. He looked exhausted. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he whispered so quietly, like he was afraid someone would overhear.

"Try me," I said firmly. His eyes darted around the clearing quickly, searching for something. Or someone. What secret was he hiding?

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak and I learned in eagerly before he snapped it shut. He shook his head. "I can't," he said, defeated. "I'm sorry."

"Sebastian!" I called after him as he sulked away into the woods but he kept walking, never looking back. "Ugh!" I picked up a twig and snapped it in frustration.

And for the first time, it hit me that there was more to the man that lived alone in the woods. His black eyes held the secrets of a black hole and I found myself wanting to know every single one of them

I felt utterly defeated as I walked back to my cabin. Every part of my body hurt, especially my head. Who the hell was he talking to? I saw him standing there in the middle of a conversation. Maybe... Maybe he was talking to himself. Maybe the exhaustion and hunger made me hallucinate what was really in front of me.

I tried to think up endless excuses for Sebastian's behaviour but deep down, I knew that I was right. Sebastian was talking to someone and I will  find out who it was.

The painting of the tree dangled from my hand as I finally walked out of the tree line. I had never been so happy to see that stupid yellow roof.

As I showered and made myself dinner, I couldn't shake the image of Sebastian's anger as he spoke to that person. Who was he talking to!? I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I slammed my fork onto the table and stood up suddenly.

Caleb always told me that I was too nosey. That I had a horrible habit of inserting myself into other people's business. And as my mind tried to decode Sebastian's actions, I tried to convince myself that this wasn't me being nosey — it was me looking out for him. Because whatever Sebastian was hiding, I knew it was serious from the way his eyes darted around the clearing today in pure fear.

I needed answers. And if Sebastian wasn't going to give me them, I would find someone else who would

There was one person. One person that seemed to know more about me and Sebastian than either of us had ever told.

So, as the sun set and the sky began to turn black, I found myself swallowing my own fear and knocking on Merelda's door.

__

Please, tap the star and vote (: 

What did you guys think of this chapter? Where do you think Sebastian was for three days and will Merelda give Rose any valuable info? Lmk!