We bought a home.
Or more accurately he did.
Atlantic came to my shabby old apartment that I shared with my best friend, took me in his arms and told me he had a surprise for me even though he knew I hated surprises.
He took me here, where I sit alone in a place so empty yet used to be so full of love. I loved this place, this tiny place we made our home. I loved Atlantic.
"What do you think?" Atlantic asks wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.
"I love it." I answer honestly, in awe of the view of the city.
"Well then I'm very happy." Atlantic grins down at me, grabbing something from his back pocket.
It was a key.
A key to our new home.
We spent a year in this place, so many memories and stories live in the brick walls. So many nightmares, so much love.
I loved Atlantic.
The cold wood brushes against my bare feet as I take steps towards our old bedroom, tears falling down my face as I reach for the doorknob.
I can't
I can't
I can't
I can't see him like this.
So I turn away, the pit in my stomach deepening and I have to keep myself from throwing up.
Stop crying
Stop crying
You don't deserve to cry!
You did this to him!
I swallow my sobs, walk back to where I was sitting and face the window again.
Its so cold.