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.