As I step out of the helicopter, the London air greets me.
I used to think London weather was bad. Then I spent time on Elaris Isle.
I give a nod to the driver waiting beside the car before I get into the back seat without a word.
The door shuts behind me, and we soon pull away.
As the city rolls past the window, my mind remains nowhere near London.
It’s still on that damned island.
On her.
Especially the fact that she left.
Just like that, without a word.
Not that she owes me an explanation.
After all, we’re nothing.
At least, that’s what she insists.
But we’re something, whether she wants to admit it or not.
I know it.
She knows it.
Anyone with a pair of eyes knows it.
Yesterday, I sat in the dining hall and every one of her friends was there except her.
I don’t think I made it obvious, but something close to worry gnawed at me the entire time.
Fucking worry.
For her.
Where was she?
Had she eaten?
Why wasn’t she here?
Eventually, I asked as casually as I could and was told she’d gone home for the break.
Back to Washington.
That’s way too much bloody distance between us.
And not seeing her every day is... difficult.
It feels suspiciously like I miss her.
Attachment.
What a stupid, useless thing to feel.
