Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

don’t follow me.” He sounded desperate, almost tortured, as if his words were killing him from the inside. And for a moment, Skye caught a glimpse of his soul, his emotions that expressed the same kind of pain she felt, but it quickly faded when his last words really began sinking in.
Follow him? Where was he—?

Everything shattered at the truth.
“No!” she cried out, unable to stop herself. Her heart slammed itself against her chest, her vision clouded with gushing tears, her body deepened in agony—every part of her scattered out of balance. He couldn’t leave her, not how she was; he couldn’t betray her like that. But she knew it was inevitable, unstoppable, and too late

—Jules was already almost out the door of her bedroom, leaving her completely broken and lost. “Please stay, Jules! I need

you!”
Her pleads carried away with the air in the room, unable to stop Jules from making the terrible mistake of leaving her. She watched in utter horror as he left, glancing back at her only once, his shirt returned to his body, his eyes sad, everything about him giving off the anguish Skye could only hope he felt for leaving her like he did.
She wished she was strong enough to go after him—to chase him until he would wrap her in his arms and promise her that everything would be okay—but she wasn’t. She’d tried getting up, only to end up collapsing against the floor beside her bed, limbs too shaky and numb to hold her up. So she stayed there, curled in a ball with her back pressed against the bed, as she shook with body racking sobs, heartbroken and alone—again.

After a few miserable moments left curled up on the floor, in tears, completely torn and alone, there was a vague shuffle of someone’s feet near the doorway. Skye heard it but couldn’t force herself to look up and find out who it was. She was having a hard enough time breathing properly; opening her eyes and moving was out of the question. Every time she tried to move, to gather her bearings so that she could run after the boy she wanted desperately to be close to, she couldn’t. Her body had grown weak—too weak to stand or function properly.
Someone’s hand touched her shoulder, gentle words leaking into her ears, “Skye, I’m so sorry.”
There was a moment, right after she processed the words, in which she thought the bittersweet words had been spoken by none other than her beloved, Jules. But when she peeled her eyes open to see for herself, her heart plummeted into her stomach.
“Victor?” she croaked, blinking away a tear. “What are you

apologizing for?”
He captured her eyes in his steady gaze, not once looking away as he spoke with her. “I couldn’t stop Jules.” He sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know if anyone could stop him right now—he’s not quite himself. He looked very…distressed

. May I ask what happened?”
Skye tried to calm herself so that she could speak with her new friend, breathing long, deep breaths and pushing away the memories of the last couple of minutes away. She had to find a way out of the ache that plagued her insides, stealing the life out of her. This ache, a pain so raw and vile that it threatened to shatter her composure completely, was brought about solely from the way Jules had treated her and, even more so, the last three words he’d spoken to her: Don’t follow me.

“I—” she began, quickly cut off by sobs that broke out from her lips, her body shuddering under the pressure of it all—their fight, Jules’s temper, her weakness—everything

. Vaguely, as if it was merely a trick of her mind, she felt warm, lean arms wrap themselves around her, holding her securely in sudden security. She had no time to push away, gasp, or make any kind of reaction, before she found herself reaching for the comfort, pulling it closer. Her voice barely above a whisper, she croaked, “I don’t know.”
Victor held her against him, protectively, rubbing one hand up and down her arm while the other stroked her back. He rocked her, gently, cradling her in his lap. “It is all going to be okay,” he soothed, a gentle promise. “Jules will come back—he loves

you. And I’m sure that despite whatever he said or whatever happened between you two, you’ll both recover, soon. Really. I promise

.”
Warmth, unlike anything she’d ever experienced around Victor before, traveled along Skye’s insides, ridding all of the cold anguish she’d felt mere moments before away. Her breathing started to come properly, her heart slowed into a normal beat, her pain numbed. There was something strange about how she felt, but she couldn’t wrap her finger around it; and, being in the state she was in, she decided it was best if she let it go for the moment. She had more important things to think about.
She had to find out why Jules had run off so abruptly. She had to gain back her composure so that she could do the only thing she’d been told not

to do: follow, or in this case, chase

after Jules. Not about to give up easily, Skye pulled Victor’s hand in hers for a moment, looked up at his smooth, deeply in-thought face, and tried a smile. Her lips wavered, unable to fully form a real smile, but it didn’t matter.
Doing something she’d never imagined herself doing, she kissed Victor on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you, Vic. You’re a good friend.” With that said she wobbled to her feet and turned straight for the bedroom door. She’d caught a little glimpse of Victor’s surprise and confusion a moment before, conflicted about something. And before she could make it out of her room, a hand clamped over her arm, gently.
“What are you doing?” Victor asked, frowning.
She’d glimpsed over her shoulder at him, blinking residue of her tears away. “I have to find him,” she explained, still choked up. “I have

to.”
His expression softened. “I’m coming with you then. I can’t let you go out there alone, not now.”
She blinked harder. Coming with?

She thought, carefully weighing her options. Figuring she really didn’t have any other options, she nodded and swallowed hard, clearing any forms of distrust she’d had towards Victor. I have to at least give him a chance. Besides, he’ll probably be of help finding Jules

, she concluded. “Let’s go.”
He let go of her arm and smiled, a small, kind smile. “Let’s.”

***
“Hey Skye,” Rachel’s sweet, chipper voice spoke into her cell phone. “I know it’s pretty early for me to be coming home, but I heard all about what’s been happening with you, and after a lot—and I mean, a lot

—of talking with my cousin and sorting my thoughts out, I finally came to a decision. So now I’m heading back to your house, and I should probably get there in about a half an hour or so, give or take. I just thought that I would let you know ahead of time so you don’t totally freak when I arrive. But, seeing as how you didn’t

pick up your phone, I bet you won’t even get this message before I get there. Either way, I’m on my way, so I guess I’ll see you soon.”
She ended the message with a quick snap of her phone and tossed it on the passenger’s seat. For two days, she’d been worried about Skye, wondering exactly how she was dealing with everything that had happened, desperately hoping she would recover okay, and wanting to be back with her best friend, comforting her. There hadn’t been a moment when she’d actually stopped

worrying about Skye in the past few days, even during her dreams.
Unable to handle the uncertainty of the matter any longer, she’d packed up her things from her cousin’s house and hopped in her car for the forty-five minute drive home. She’d already been driving for about ten minutes or so, during which she’d spent the time listening to music and trying not to worry about Skye. Leah had left her a message earlier that morning, telling her about Skye’s confrontation with the incidents by talking with the Chief and how Rachel wasn’t to worry about her because she was doing better, but Rachel still felt slightly unnerved. She needed to see for herself that Skye was adjusting.
The roads were clear, very little traffic across the map. She’d tried to keep her speed under the limit, but as her anxiety grew so did the speedometer. Glancing in the mirror to scope out cops, she saw nothing. That was it. There was not another car on the road for miles, almost as if the roads were supposed to be clear. And suddenly something didn’t sit well with Rachel’s nerves, causing her to push on the break a little and slow the car.
Just as she was about to reach out for her phone to call Leah, sirens blared from behind her. On instinct, she let out a small chirp and clenched her hands on the steering wheel, heart jumping in her chest. She’d never been pulled over by the cops before, never had received a ticket, and she was beyond nervous at the thought of it. Taking deep breaths, she glanced in the mirror, grimacing when she spotted a police car tailing her.
Why now? Why me?

She bit her lip. Maybe he’ll just drive right passed. Maybe’s there’s someone in front of me speeding.

Taking in the clear roads ahead, she cursed herself. She pressed her foot on the break a little and veered off the road, pulling over. The best she could do was hope the officer would be merciful and let her go, unscathed.
The police car pulled up behind her, stopping a few feet away. Nerves clenched, mind spinning, Rachel busied herself trying to think up a good excuse. My friend needs me,

she came up with. She’s gotten caught up in some trouble and I need to make sure she’s okay. So you see, Officer, I had to push the limits a little.

She could do it; she could convince the gentleman to leave her with only a warning. At least she hoped she could.
Knuckles rapped against the window, jolting her out of her hazy thoughts. She was shaking, but tried her best to control it. Slowly, she brought herself to roll the window down and