The Camp (Chateau 2)

She stilled at my outburst, not anticipating this at all.

“I wake up and you’re gone, and I have no idea where the fuck you went. What the fuck, Raven?”

She stepped back slightly, recovering from the surprise and turning cold. “I just went to get coffee, Magnus. What is the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal?” I asked incredulously. “You didn’t tell me. That’s the big deal.”

“Where else would I have…” Her voice trailed away when she figured out why I was so angry. Understanding entered her gaze, and that softness was quickly replaced by anger. “I told you I wouldn’t run.”

She’d had the perfect opportunity to wave down a cab and go in any direction, but she chose to come back, her intentions completely innocent, so innocent that if I woke up and didn’t see her, the idea of her escaping wouldn’t even cross my mind. I rubbed my fingers across my jawline, letting the angry high dissipate.

“You need to trust me.”

I dropped my hand and looked at her again.

“I’m gonna come and go as I damn well please because I’m not going to run—and you know I’m not going to run. At least, you do now…because I’ve been awake for four hours now, and that’s plenty of time to disappear if that’s what I wanted. So, when I wake up, I’m going to walk to my favorite coffee shop and get a sugary, fattening, hot cup of coffee and as many goddamn muffins as I want, and you aren’t going to say a damn thing about it. If you’re gone in the evening and I’m alone, I’m gonna walk down there and get my dinner to go and eat it here because it’s what I want to do. Alright?”

I stared into her angry eyes, seeing the genuine hurt she felt, like my doubt was a slap in the face. She was beautiful all the time, with makeup or without, when she was asleep or wide awake. But when she was emotional like this, there was something particularly magnetic about it. It was when I was most fascinated with her, when she spoke her mind candidly and with confidence. “Alright.”

I parked the car outside her apartment, and we walked up the steps of the stoop and then the staircase inside. Like before, there were envelopes underneath the door, telling her that the rent was late.

She tested the knob, and it was unlocked.

The door creaked open.

She stared inside, saw that it looked exactly the same as before, and then stepped into the room.

I followed behind her and watched her look around at the place that must have stopped feeling like home months ago. I could feel her energy in the room, feel a past I wasn’t a part of. I could picture her making dinner every night for her and her sister. I could picture her working upstairs in her office, while glancing up at the tower every time she took a sip of her coffee.

With her arms crossed over her chest, she looked around.

It seemed cruel to bring her to box up her possessions, never to return, but it was better than leaving it behind so someone would throw it all away. Her favorite books, family photos, keepsakes that meant a lot to her… It would just end up in the dump.

After a long pause, she grabbed a box and set it on the counter. She seemed to know exactly what she wanted to take because she grabbed the things and quickly put them inside.

I stayed by the door and watched.

She went upstairs a couple times, grabbing photo albums, picture frames, and books. She placed them inside and returned up the stairs.

I grabbed one of the picture frames and took a look.

It was a woman with two little girls. Even though the girls had the same eye color, I knew exactly which one was Raven. She looked to be maybe five at the time, sitting on her mother’s lap with that fiery brightness in her gaze…a shine that was still there to this day. I put it back in the box.

She stuffed the box with everything that meant something to her, and the last thing she placed inside was a purple scarf. “That’s everything.”

“You don’t want to take anything else?” She left behind all her furniture, clothes, and shoes. She didn’t touch anything in the kitchen, except removing a few magnets from the fridge.

She shook her head. “These are the only things that matter.” She pulled the box to the edge to pick it up.

I grabbed the top and slid it toward myself so I could carry it.

“I pick up boxes like that all the time at the camp.”

I picked it up and headed to the door. “I know.”

She placed her things in her old bedroom. It still held her new clothes and accessories, so she showered in that bathroom and set up her picture frames and photo albums. The two of us fell into a routine just the way we did at the camp, albeit it was completely different.