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