Rain. It sounded like wandering footsteps, a stacatto reminder of the past.
She leaned against the window frame, eyes closed. Her hand pressed gently against the chill glass, almost able to feel the drops that slid over the outside surface. Distorted waves of light washed over her skin, casting it a ghostly white.
Empty. Too empty to cry. She opened her eyes a little, looked at the shifting gray outside her window. The rain was her tears.
Eran, She heard a voice murmur.
She closed her eyes again. People didn't realize, about ghosts. They don't live on in the world. They're inside of you.
Eran didn't care that she was haunted. It was like the flip side of what was once reality- longing in place of content, pain in place of pleasure, emptiness where once she felt love. In a perverse sort of way, it was almost like grasping for a memory by living its opposite.
Eran, The voice whispered again.
She cried back in answer, but her soul was just as silent as her name.
She never went anywhere, these days. Maybe it was the cars- she hated cars, now. They seemed like harbringers of death. There was no point in going anywhere, anyway. She had already lost everything.
Withdrawing her hand from the glass, she hugged herself, trying to get warm. It seemed forever since she had been. It had been raining, even that night...
She felt the muscles in her face spasm, wrenching her expression into omething painful.
So lonely- because she was not alone.
Eran felt a light touch at her back, and went still. She opened her eyes, turned around. Nothing.
As she closed her eyes again, she felt a hand press gently between her shoulder blades, and trail over her back. Phantom lips against her neck. Achingly familiar.
A sob broke free, and she slid to the floor, curling into a ball. "Tris," She moaned.
In the next room, Tristan awoke awoke with a jolt.
Tris, He heard her say softly. For a disoriented moment he looked at the pillow beside him, expecting her to have muttered in her sleep.
He felt his heart sink as he remembered.
He exhaled shakily, and rubbed his eyes. Even now, after she'd been dead for a year, he still dreamed of her. Sometimes he even imagined that she was still here, wandering the apartment at night. He half expected her to be standing by the window, watching the rain fall as he hugged her from behind. She knew how much it reminded him of his old home.
It seemed more like a curse, nowadays. It had been the rain that caused the car wreck.
Stumbling out of bed, he moved to the window, staring hollowly out at the sheets of water. He considered drawing the blinds for a minute, hesitated with his hand at the cord.
He turned away, and leaned against the wall, sighing. He could almost hear her voice, still. Whispering his name.
He didn't mind being haunted, he observed distantly. Rubbing his bare arms from the cold.
It was almost like he could still feel her.