Hope's POV Walking back into the living room, I realized that Heath had left the apartment. His car keys were not on the counter, and a feeling of gloominess enveloped me tightly, and my heart sank a little in my chest. Now I was really worried about him. He had never done that before. Sure we'd bicker over stuff like who'd do the laundry, cleaning, or throw the trash away, but nothing was this intense that would make him leave me alone in here. We'd been in a relationship for a couple of months now, and he never behaved like this with me, where he would walk away from me without giving me any explanation. I could still envision the coldness in his ocean blue eyes. They were always laced with warmth and love whenever they would meet mine. The pair of blue eyes had never been too cold for me not to touch him. But tonight, seeing him like that made me question everything. My brain was flooding with memories from my past, making it pound badly. My Dad would do the same. The only difference was, he would abuse my Mom first, and then walk out like a raging beast, making sure that the door would slam against the door frame to make everyone know he was leaving. Doubts and many questions were churning up in my mind like a restless sea, and my thoughts were all jumbled. I didn't know what to believe and what not to. No theory was ringing bells in my ear, so I had no clue what to think right now. Just a few minutes ago, we were making out, and now Heath was out on the streets while I was staring at the door waiting for him to barge in and hug me tightly to his chest as if nothing happened. But that wouldn't happen. My stomach grumbled loudly, and I sighed dejectedly. Guess you'll have to eat dinner alone, Hope, my subconscious said, and like always, it was correct. I padded to the small island, and took a seat on the stool. Taking the fork, I tried to stuff the pasta down my throat, but my heart was just fixed on what was wrong with Heath that I couldn't enjoy my food. I looked over at the other pasta plate resting next to mine, and I wished that Heath was here. We'd talk and sort things out. He'd tell me what was bothering him. Didn't he trust me? Why was he closing himself off to me? I knew he only smoked when he was stressed. So what was he worrying about? Gosh, me and my long list of questions made me lose my appetite. I was more invested in fretting over Heath that I didn't feel like doing anything other than sitting on the couch and looking straight at the door for him to come back. I put our plates into the microwave, started to clean the kitchen, afterwards I went over to the couch and did exactly what I said I was going to do. I waited for my boyfriend. My eyes moved to the large glass window that gave the view of Toronto city. It was so different and sophisticated compared to the town I used to live in. The streets here are lined with beautiful shops, and there was a rush of life in this place. People were constantly moving on the roads and pavements dressed in business attire as they'd make their way to their respective jobs. The way of living here was so fast and loud here. I would always hear the blaring sound of the car honks that would sometimes make me miss the quietness of the place I grew up. Sure it was all fancy and modern here, but I didn't get the feeling that I belonged here. I still had to explore the city. I mean, I hadn't been anywhere except the department store and a small restaurant Heath took me to. He and I didn't get much time to go anywhere together because we had been trying to live on our own for the past month. It was weird sharing a space with him, and I still had stuff to do in the apartment to make sure it looked like people live here. My phone buzzed, and I quickly picked it up to see if Heath had messaged me, but it was a text from some telemarketing company that just ruined my mood. I wanted to talk to Marie and ask her how the trip was going with her family and Sebastian, but I didn't know how to unlock Heath's laptop. He had told me the password, but I forgot it because it consisted of many numbers. Picking up Pride and Prejudice, I went to catch up on the lives of Elizabeth and Darcy. I wanted to read the classics before I got to college. I knew that life would get busier when classes start. I wouldn't get much time then, so I was reading the books now. I love reading, but I never read the classics before. Anastasia, the librarian in my hometown, didn't have them. Just a few days ago, Heath bought me a copy of it, and since then, I was hell-bent on completing it as soon as I could. Delving into the worn pages of the exquisite novel, I let myself drown into their lives as I escaped from mine. ------------- I never slept on the couch before, so the contrast on how soft the couch and my bed were very notable. I awoke when my back started to hurt, and I painfully moaned. I arched to try and alleviate some of the pain before something became vocal in the room, "Shh… it's alright." A voice grazed my skin, and I immediately opened my eyes to see the owner of the voice. I looked at the pair of ocean blue eyes that were softly staring at me under the pale golden light of the bedside lamp with tired eyes. Even though my eyes were half-closed, I didn't miss the warmth that was swimming in his eyes like calm waves in the ocean. The sight would always bring me a sense of comfort and made me wanna mold myself in his arms. "Heath…" I lowly whispered his name in a sleepy tone and desperately tried to sit up, but my spine was saying otherwise. I wanted to lock my arms around Heath and hugged the life out of him. He had gotten me so anxious by leaving me alone in the apartment without telling me what was wrong or where he was going. His hands rested on my shoulders, as he lowered me on the bed. By now, I was fully awake, and I could see how tired he looked. "Heath, are you okay?" I quickly rushed the question and also fisted the front of his hoodie into my hands in the hope of stopping him from leaving again. "I'm fine, Rose." He smiled weakly, that it didn't convince me. His eyes instantly flickered away from mine, and I was confident that he was lying to me. What was the point of lying to me? He was supposed to share stuff with me. He didn't hesitate to talk to me about stuff before. What was the matter now? His hands were still on my shoulder and they were permeating tingles under my skin.