Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 67 - Leavi

He's out the door and trekking through the snow in less than five minutes.

He's going to come back. That's all my shocked brain can muster. He's not really leaving. Any second, he's going to turn around and come back.

I watch him through the upstairs window. His backpack rests on his shoulders, trenchcoat flaring behind him in the wind. Within seconds, he disappears into the treeline.

Then he's gone.

Go after him! my heart screams. I stay, though, leaning on the windowsill, like if I stare long enough, he'll reappear. Because even if I did go after him, what would I say? I know I told you to leave, but I didn't mean it?

Or maybe, My bad, I really am willing to leave Aster here and trek south through the snow with you.

He has his reasons for leaving; I have mine for staying. But that piece of logic doesn't numb the ache inside me.

He's really gone, and I'm the one who pushed him out the door.

"What kind of idiot are you?" I mutter to myself. "'Leave without me'? Why the blazes would you say that?"

He's going to come back.

But he won't. Why would he? He has no reason to.

Why couldn't I, for once in my stupid life, ditch my stubborn pride and admit that he was right? I don't listen to him!

I don't listen to anyone.

Sean told me it'd be dangerous to break Aster out, and we've almost died more than once because of it. He told me Jacin was a creep, and I'm not entirely sure he's wrong. On top of that, Aster told me not to go on the roof, but I did anyway. He told me Idyne was trouble, that we shouldn't bring her, and now the blood of those guards is just as much on my hands as hers.

Even though Sean is wrong about this one—I know we can trust Aster—I didn't have to attack him when he brought it up. I could have countered his points logically, with evidence I have that Sean doesn't have access to. Maybe if I had, he'd still be here.

Maybe I still can.

I shove away from the windowsill and fly down the stairs. My boots lie discarded by the door, and I tug one on. My other foot is only halfway in as I throw the door open and rush into the blistering wind. "Sean!"

I run toward the forest, fighting the snow with each step. "Sean!" Reaching the treeline, I cup my hands around my mouth and call his name again. My eyes search for any flicker of his form through the branches and undergrowth. "Sean!"

I wait, desperately hoping he calls back. Any second, he'll emerge from the foliage, collar popped, smug smirk glued on his face like he expected this to happen.

The only noise is the morning chatter of the birds.

The woods close around me as I take a few steps forward. Hands still cupped, I shout his name into the quiet forest. "Sean!" My hand slaps flat against the bark of a tree. "Sean, you idiot, would you please just come back? Please! Sean!"

Returning silence echoes, and I lean against a tree, holding back tears. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I really am sorry."

Birdsong and wind fill the air around me, the sun shining high above. The normality of it all sends an ache through my chest.

Because it's too late. He's gone, and he's not coming back.

I stand there for minutes, waiting, until the cold turns my skin pink. Then I turn and trudge back to the house.