Theo's Room
The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint creak of the floorboards beneath her steps. She stood just inside the doorway, the threshold feeling like an invisible barrier between the past and the present. His room, once alive with the chaos of childhood-the scattered toys, the drawings tacked to the walls-was now frozen in time, a shrine to a joy that was no longer here.
His bed was neatly made, the sheets pulled tight as if waiting for him to return from some
endless day. The light from the window cast gentle patterns across the room, highlighting the framed pictures on the dresser: his wide, toothy grin in one, a school photo in another, his first day of kindergarten, full of shy excitement.
She reached out a trembling hand and touched the edge of his desk, the wood cool and smooth beneath her fingers. she could almost hear his laughter echoing off the walls, see him perched on the edge of his chair, lost in his world of imagination.
The closet door was slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of his neatly hung clothes-tiny shirts and well-loved jeans, their colors faded from countless washes. she couldn't help but run her fingers along the fabric of his favorite sweater, the one he always claimed was "lucky." It still smelled faintly of him, a mix of youth and innocence that felt both comforting and agonizing.
Sinking down onto the edge of his bed, she wrapped her arms around myself, trying to hold onto the fragments of the life we once had. The room felt like a mausoleum, a space frozen in a moment that was too precious to let go but too painful to dwell in. she could still hear his voice, feel his small, warm hand in mine. But now, all that remained were the echoes, the memories that seemed both too vivid and too distant.
she closed her eyes, trying to remember the sound of his laughter, the way his face lit up when he was excited. It felt like trying to grasp smoke-so elusive, so ephemeral. The weight of the silence was a stark contrast to the once lively noise of his presence. In the quiet, the absence was a roar, a reminder of the space he used to fill.
She knew she should leave, but she couldn't bring herself to move. This room, this sacred place, was the last piece of him she had left to hold onto. It was where she felt closest to him, even as it reminded her of everything she had lost. And so, she stayed, allowing the tears to fall freely, letting them mingle with the dust in the room, as if somehow that might bridge the gap between memory and reality.
As the clock struck twelve in the night, Blaze stood outside the Theo's Room where Savannah now had locked herself inside, refusing to accept what the world said, she couldn't accept reality, she doubted her own intuition deep down but again she was denying. Somehow this was making blaze worry about Savannah, she just awoke after a year-long coma and needs to recover from her injury. It hurts him to see her in such a state.
His thoughts kept circling back to the day she'd lost her child, and it seemed that a wound never fully healed. It was still there, in her subconcious mind who is refusing to believe the reality of life. Her grief had been overwhelming, and he'd tried so hard to be the strong one, to hold them both together. But now, as he waited for her to open the door, he felt his own strength slipping away.
He knocked gently, his knuckles brushing against the wood with a hesitant rhythm. "It's me," he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm here. I just want to talk to you."
The silence from inside was heavy, an oppressive weight that seemed to press against his chest. He imagined her lying there, caught between dreams and reality, struggling with her own thoughts. Blaze's mind was a jumble of what-ifs and fears-what if she didn't open the door? What if she did and couldn't bear to the reality?
"I know you're hurting, Savannah" he whispered through the door, his voice breaking slightly. "I know everything feels overwhelming right now. But you're not alone. I'm here. I need you to come back here. Let's talk" The door remained locked, but Blaze's heart was open, ready to embrace whatever came next. If she wants to blame him for everything he would take them, if she wants to take her anger out he would take the, if she wants to punish him harshly, he is even ready for that. But for them happen she needs to come outside which she didn't do. Blaze just stood there outside the door silently, "Alright, don't open, don't talk, I've left the food outside the door, at least eat something Savannah" he added "I'll go" and walked away from the door.
Two days later
In black attire, Blaze was all set to head to the company. Arthur followed him down the stairs as usual, "Are they there yet?" Blaze questioned his Secretary, "Yes, they are already waiting at the company," and they walked towards the main entrance, but suddenly Blaze stopped midway, Arthur looked confused at him, and Blaze's eyes shifted to Theo's room, where Savannah had still locked herself in.
The air in the house felt still heavy, thick with the silence that had settled in the last two days. And Blaze had tried everything to coax her out, to reassure her that he was here, that she wasn't alone. But she had locked herself in, and no amount of pleading, gentle knocking, or even desperate shouting had broken through the barrier she'd erected.
Blaze have tried slipping notes under the door, leaving her favorite foods just outside, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she'll feel the temptation to open up, to break this unbearable silence. But the food remains untouched, the notes ignored, and the silence grows more suffocating with each passing hour. In short he had done everything for her he could do and wanted to do one way or other.
He've been so focused on her, on trying to understand what she might be feeling, that he've neglected himself. He barely eat or sleep, his own needs falling away as he fixate on her. He keep replaying the last moments before she locked herself in, trying to find some clue, some missed sign that could have helped me understand her pain better.
Sometimes, he stand outside the door, pressing his ear against the wood, hoping to hear something-anything- and he just hear snifs and sobbing sound that shreds him into pieces, even if he wants to he couldn't help her, and he feels so unless of himself in this moment.
Nine at Night
Blaze was just arriving at the mansion after having a hectic yet worrisome day at the company, and as soon as he entered the mansion, he immediately headed to Savannah's hiding spot. As he approached the scene, the door was still locked, sniffs were still coming out, and the food he had left this morning was still untouched.
"Savannah" Every time he call out to her, his voice carries a tremor of desperation. "Pleaese don't do this" he say, his voice cracking under the strain. "Just come out. Let me help you. You need to eat. You need to take care of yourself." The sound of his own voice feels hollow in the emptiness, like a faint echo in a vast, desolate space. It's as if the door has absorbed all his pleas, all his attempts at reaching her, and has given nothing back but silence.
He tried to imagine what's going on inside that room. Is she lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts? Is she overwhelmed by her grief, unable to find the strength to move? The uncertainty is a gnawing agony, and he find myself pacing the hallway, wringing his hands, trying to think of anything that might help.
He feel like he is failing her, failing to reach her in her time of need. He is supposed to be the one who's strong, the one who help her navigate through this darkness, but all he can do is stand outside the door, powerless. The weight of her suffering is a burden he can't carry alone, but he is forced to try.
"Savannah, please" he plaeded again but the person on the other end seemed not to care. Now he want to believe that she'll find her way back, that this dark chapter will end and the lively life will emerge. For now, all he can do is wait, hoping that she will eventually open the door, that she'll reach out and let him help her. He is here, holding on to the hope that, despite the silence, she knows he is waiting, ready to support her when she's ready to let him in.
Next Day
As Blaze was seen sitting in the upper part of the living area, he seemed to be involved in some work with his secretary, as the conversation looked serious as they discussed everything. "When will he be here?" Blaze questioned Arthur. "A day after tomorrow at 8PM," Arthur informed his boss, and Blaze began flipping through the pages.
"Where's my car?" Soon after a voice spoke closer to Blaze and Blaze stopped what he was doing, was hesitant to look up but he knew who that voice belonged, he looked up to see Savannah, neatly dressed.
Author's Note :
Happy reading<3
Let me know if you like the story.
Good night/morning