White Violets (Second)
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I walked behind him for what felt like ages, neither of us exchanging any words. Not that I wanted to talk, but the silence was just so itchingly uncomfortable.
At least the cemetery was a decent distraction; from what I could see it was gorgeous. Trees were sprinkled everywhere, a decent amount of them being evergreen so the place didn’t feel so empty in the void spring tended to leave in the landscape. Not to mention how nature seemed so, well, natural there - vines were lazily creeping along stone walls and lacing over older gravestones. Not to mention the fact that the lawn hardly consisted of much grass at all, most of the green surrounding the gravel path being indistinguishable weeds. I’d never felt less terrified in a graveyard.
But, eventually, we turned a corner around a tall, stone wall and came onto a cabin. I couldn’t help but snort at the sight of it; it looked like it had been taken straight from a Christmas card, or maybe some cheesy fairytale. Two stories high, a smoking chimney and a winding cobblestone path that lead through an archway connected to a white picket fence. I didn’t think it could get any more clichéd.
And thankfully, I could see the road curving towards the house a little way off, the shadow of a car parked on a little dirt driveway leading towards us.
Well, at least I could call a cab in the morning and actually have an idea of where to send them.
He lead the way up the path, stepping up to the door and just walking in - at least he hadn’t lied about not locking the door. After he disappeared inside, I hesitated a moment in following. I hated to infringe on others privacy, enter without permission. But he seemed to have been swallowed up by the insides of the house, not coming back to make sure I was there or anything. So, cautiously, I went in.
As I walked down the hallway and peeked into the rooms to locate Peter, it shocked me how bare it was, just simple bare necessities. A couch here, a lamp there, no TVs to be seen. Not to mention the kitchen, which only had a small table, a mini fridge and an oven. I cringed at the thought of what was in the cupboards.
I found him standing at the foot of a staircase, looking surprised to see me.
So, after practically begging me to come, he didn’t expect me to follow? Nice.
“Hey, um…What’s your name?”
“Sophie,” I stated dully.
“Sophie. Well, go up the stairs and first door to your right, on the right is the bathroom. Second door to your left, on the right, is the guest room, your room.” He smiled a bit, messing with the cuff of his sleeve. “That made no sense, did it?”
“Nope, but I’ll do my best to follow them.” It took everything in me, but as I walked past him up the stars, I muttered, “Thank you.”
(A/N: I have like twenty two 500s of this done. Don't worry, I'm only posting three today.
Yes, it's horrible. Shaddup)