The unwritten scars
: Ghosts
ver a year, not since the bruises had faded but the scars remained. The walls of her apartment in Chicago had been lined with her artwo
It was the color of the sky after a storm, the color she had always used when she wanted to
frustrated with her
or the canvas again, but before sh
ush, the blue paint splatter
se of the bell ringing louder in
not
ed toward the door, praying it w
the door, it wasn't
demeanor was still there, but now it was tempered with something
said, his voice low and steady, like he wasn't en
he floor, at the paint stains that marked the wood. Her hand inst
his presence didn't feel like an int
ng?" he asked,
n't felt this way with anyone in a long time, maybe never. But Noah wasn't th
ore, weren't you?" he a
o him in surprise.
able, the unfinished piece of art she had abandoned months ago. "Just a gues
itched. Does he
the floor, avoiding his gaze. But Noah didn't move, ju
urge to tell him everything. To scream out all the
"I'm not sure I remembe
It wa
long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he move
a frenzy. It was the fact that he hadn't looked at her like
to remember all at once. Take it sl
pected. Her chest tightened, and she
if I can," s
fingers so that she met his eyes. There was no pity
than you think,
ront of him. She wanted to say so much, but her throat felt t
d, she
ood up and backed toward the door. "I'll let you get b
esence lingered in the air, like a breat
ng. She stared at the canvas again, at the untouched
sn't so brok