-21 years old-
Reid is still in the hospital, he doesn't wake up and, even though I know he's the one I should be with, I use the keys he gave me and go into his apartment.
Everything is dark.
Other than the city light coming in through the large window, there is no sign of life.
Until I see him.
Right there.
Killian is leaning against the wall, bottles and bottles of vodka strewn on the floor, his eyes fixed on the city, not even looking at me when my heels click against the floor as I walk.
"Are you drunk?" I ask, moving a little closer to him.
I want to see if he's crying.
At the cemetery he didn't.
His parents were buried today and he didn't shed a tear.
I want to believe he mourned his loss in solitude, where no one else could see his weakness.
But nothing.
The cl
