She sat with her back against the wall as she watched him. He was almost real; so close to touch, so beautiful to listen to, so fragile to look at. His voice echoed throughout the room, but she was alone. She sat close to the window, staring outside, feeling the isolation closing in on herself. Desolate here in room 226 on the third floor of a seedy, no name motel right outside of town. The T.V. screen flashed his face and she began to reminisce, she began to remember him. She forced herself to sit and think about everything, about him. All the times she stayed up waiting for him and the times she watched him for the sake of seeing him smile had hastened in her mind. All the times she watched his eyes light up like fire set to a city were fresh in her mind like the feeling of blood trickling when your flesh was cut. As those memories started to fade and everything became normal and dim again, she had realized he was no longer present in her life.

Everything became clear to her that night. How he faded away from her, how he came to her. The memories screamed at her, pounded inside her head to remember every detail about him. His silky, smooth hair. His, large, oval eyes. That beautiful, clear voice. The memory of every groove is his body, every facial expression, every smile had stayed with her.

She closed her eyes and winced back pain. Her hand held a small, lush rose. It was perfect in size, small to capture its beauty, deep red to capture it's luminous color. She needed to escape. She needed to see him one more time. Just once. With a newfound energy, she leaped up and flung the door open.

Alone, she found herself staring at him. The wind blew in large gusts as she wrapped a shawl tightly around her small frame. One, single tear rolled down her cheek and she did not bother to wipe it away. It lingered there for awhile and he caught it. She knew he could still taste her tears and hear her voice no matter how far away he was.

"Aryana. . ?" A soft, husky voice came from behind her and she whipped around to look into the eyes of someone familiar. Deep green eyes. Blonde hair that grew in spikes.

"Lance. . " she murmured quietly.

The moment realization clicked into his mind, all the memories began to flash back in his eyes. He had not seen her for months. No. Years. Yet she was still so fragile and mysterious. Still the same girl that left years ago with tears in her eyes and nowhere to go.

She did not say anything. He stepped closer toward her until he was almost close enough to touch her.

She whispered something she knew only Justin could hear.

"Goodbye Justin. I'll see you soon." The rose fell upon a grey tombstone enveloped with tears.

And then she fled, but he didn't chase after her. Instead, he too dropped a rose onto the tombstone. A single, white rose. "Goodbye, my friend. She's back. She missed you."

Hours later, she found herself again in room 226. Except this time she was inside the bathroom. No longer breathing, but well enough living again without the emptiness in her heart.