A dark purple velvet chair, silky black comforter, and black-and-white nature shots hanging on the walls give the room a masculine-but-put-together feel. Although, none of that is what really captures my attention. That would be the dozens of colorful sticky notes dotting the walls, doors, and furniture.
After glancing around at the organized chaos that is his room, I turn to Rook with a raised brow. “What’s with the Post-its?”
Rook chuckles and rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “I’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind constantly. If I don’t write it down, I’ll forget about it. The sticky notes make sure I see what I need to do, which also keeps me from missing stuff. I know it’s weird, but it works for me.”
I hate the vulnerability in his voice, as though he thinks I’d look down on him for his systems.
I hold my hands up placatingly. “Hey, I’m not gonna judge. We all have weird things that help us function. Nothing wrong with that.”
His face scrunches up skeptically. “Yeah? Even you?”
I laugh. “Especially me. I have to line the brush pens up on my desk in a particular order, depending on what type of project I’m working on. I’m allergic to writing anything down on paper, but my notes app is full of reminders, thoughts, and other random stuff. I can’t sleep with a mirror in my room because I’m worried a ghost will come through and steal my soul at night. And those are just a few I can think of right now.”
He snorts at the last one.
“Well, good thing there aren’t any mirrors in my room, then.” His eyes widen when he realizes what he just implied. “Not that I’m assuming you’ll sleep here or anything. Not that you’re not welcome to. But I’d never assume that… and I’m just going to shut up now before I make it worse.”
His rambling is cute and super endearing. But I don’t want him to feel bad about it. “You’re good, Rook. Where’s the bathroom?”
He lets out a relieved breath and points to the door on the far side of his bedroom.
Crossing his room in a few strides, I push open the black-lacquered door and flip on the lights. I’m greeted with a sea of black marble, broken up with brass accents and fluffy white towels.
I make a beeline for the glossy black sink and snag one of the hand towels on my way. Taking Rook’s advice, I splash cold water on my face and scrub off the dried tears. When I’m done patting myself dry, I look at myself in the mirror.
The hollows under my cheekbones and the dark smudges under my eyes are nothing new, at least not for the past seven months. The emptiness in my emerald gaze also isn’t surprising, but I still wish there was a little life in there. I guess this is just how I look now.
Knowing nothing good ever comes from thinking too hard about my reflection, I fold up the towel neatly and walk back out of the bathroom.
When I step back into Rook’s room, I see him frowning at his phone.
Leaning against the wall by the bathroom, I ask, “Everything okay?”
His lips twist as he debates how to answer me. “Just my parents being upset with my existence. Nothing new.”
He tries to play it off like it’s no big deal, but I can tell it hurts him. If anyone knows what your parents hating you for existing is like, it’s me.
Trying not to pry too much, I just walk over to him and give his hand a quick squeeze before dropping it. “I get that. It’s been a blessing that my parents don’t have my new number or know where I am.”
Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if Andrew shares it with them at some point. They’ll definitely pressure me to come home and do whatever he wants.
I can tell he wants to ask why my parents don’t even know the city I’m living in, but I appreciate it when he doesn’t.
Shoving a hand through his hair, Rook looks over at me. “Do you ever regret not talking to them or miss them?”
I let out a bitter laugh. “No. I do regret letting them be in my life so long, though.” I should’ve taken the opportunity to run away when I first had it, but hindsight’s twenty-twenty.
Rook hums but doesn’t say anything else about the subject as he shoves his phone into his pocket. “You ready to go watch the movie? I bet Colt’s getting antsy, having you out of his sight for so long.”
I roll my eyes. “I highly doubt Colt has even noticed I’m not there or cares enough to be bothered by it.”
Rook’s lips tip up into a half smirk, and he shakes his head at me. “You’d be surprised, dove.”
CHAPTER 22
LARK
How’sIron Mansound?” Win calls over her shoulder. She’s rifling through their movie cabinet to find something to watch.
