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I slammed the door shut behind me and leaned against it, taking a very shaky breath. I stared at the carpeted floor, thinking. About him, about myself, about us, what we used to be.

What happened? How did we let it all go so quickly?

When I took in another breath and it came out as a sniffle, I realized a few tears had slipped. I forced out a scoff and wiped my cheeks.

What's gone is gone. And there's no point regretting or mourning it.

He looked different now. So different. He'd always been tall but he'd gotten so much taller. Or maybe I didn't grow at all. I barely grew a couple of inches, now sitting at five foot four, but he grew and grew. From six-foot to six foot two, now probably six foot four. He'd gotten bigger, more muscular. His shirt fitted on him tightly, hugging his arms, chest, and broad shoulders. The black fitted full-sleeve v-neck looked good on him. His eyes were still as blue as ever, they would always light up under the sun. His dimples were still there.

I'm lucky I get to see them even when he isn't smiling since that's how deep they are. They're usually visible when he talks.

His hair looked different but it was always changing back then too. For a while he had long and shabby hair falling over his forehead, brushing against his eyes. Then he cut it up before our high school graduation. At one point, right at the beginning of high school, I remember he buzzed it off. I was... horrified.

"What did you do?" I gasped as he strolled into my room casually.

"What?" he mumbled in confusion, kicking his shoes off and sitting beside me on the bed.

"Your hair! You should have told me you were cutting it!"

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? You always tell me. I decide your hair cuts."

"I wanted a change, Emmy."

"This change is... not good," I said softly and then reached up to touch it. He swatted my hand away but I clicked my tongue and tried again. He let me. I rubbed my hand against the short buzz cut. I pulled my hand away quickly. "That tickles," I mumbled and then stared at him. "Why?" I whined. "I liked your hair the way it was."

"Yeah well, I didn't."

"Why not?"

"I—" He huffed in frustration, turning to look at me.

"Did you do something stupid?"

"Maybe."

"Did you get gum in your hair or something?"

"Of course, not."

"Then?"

"I um... Aspen, he... He put hair dye in my shampoo."

"What hair dye?"

"Green."

I snorted, smacking a hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh. "Did he really? It's all out now."

"Well yeah, I saw it before I completely rubbed it in and fucked up my hair."

"How did you see it?"

He held up a hand, showing me his stained green nails. "I saw it when I went to grab more."

I pouted, sticking my bottom lip out and rubbing his head again. "Well, if it helps, it doesn't look too bad. I mean," I shrugged, "you pull it off."

"Thanks," he said halfheartedly.

"Aww, don't worry. It's just hair, it'll grow back," I chuckled, linking my arm with his.

"Why don't you try saying that after buzzing all your hair off?"

"No, thank you. But I'll help you get back at Aspen."

He brightened up. "How?"

I paused and thought for a minute. "Should I get gum in his hair?"

"He'll kill you. And so will Remy."

"Why don't you save me then? Hide me in the safety of your room."

He hesitated. "You'll really do it?"

"Of course. He messed with me, he messed with me, same thing. If you want me to, I will." I began getting up but he grabbed the back of my shirt, pulling me back.

"Don't bother. I'll get him back on my own." He grabbed the remote of the new TV I got in my room for Christmas. "What should we watch?"

"You pick," I shrugged.

"Iron Man 2?" he asked, scooting down and grabbing a pillow, putting it in my lap, and resting his head on it, facing the screen.

"Sure. Iron Man 2."

He let out an extremely agitated huff as the movie started before grabbing my hand and guiding it to his head.

"What do you want me to do? You don't have hair, what am I supposed to play with?"

"I don't know, just do something. It's annoying me. I can feel the fucking pillow."

I bit back a laugh and ran my palm over his hair. "It tickles," I complained.

"I don't care, just do it for me."

So I kept going. He grabbed my other hand and pulled it over his shoulder and held it under his chin, his eyes focused on the screen. I scratched him under his chin and he let out an annoyed whine, nudging my arm. So I stopped and kept playing with his buzz cut.

He didn't actually look too bad.

I sat on the foot of the bed and kicked my heels off, throwing my backpack onto one of the two seats near the coffee table that was right in front of the balcony. I stood up, looking through the glass door. "Whoa," I mumbled, staring at the beach view.

You had a clear view of the waves, the sun glistening on the surface of the water, the people running up and down the beach, the lifeguards on watch too. There were people swimming, some tanning, some having a picnic. It looked fun.

I went back to the bed and lay down with a sigh. I kicked my shoes off, shrugged the cardigan off, threw it onto the chair, and pulled my hair up into a bun that I could sleep in. I wasn't sleepy per se but I planned on staying in bed, so I was more than likely to fall asleep anyway.

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I woke up much later, but God knows what time it was, to my phone ringing on the nightstand. I blindly reached for it and answered the call without reading the ID. "Hello?"

"I figured you were sleeping, that's why I called," Remy scoffed.

Then the line went silent. I was falling back asleep when Aspen's voice flooded my ears. "Okay uh, Remy just went to get ready but she told me to tell you that dinner is in an hour, so you should probably freshen up."

"Huh?"

"Dinner."

"Hmm?"

"Emilia!"

My eyes snapped open. "What?!"

"Dinner. In an hour. There's an outdoor restaurant at the back of the hotel, it's dining by the beach. We have a table booked there. Be there in one hour, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I hear you."

"All right. Bye."

"Bye." I got out of bed with a soft groan and went into the bathroom. I started off by freshening up, brushing my teeth, splashing some water on my face, and letting my hair down. Then I walked to my suitcase, looking for a dress to wear.

I decided on a semi-formal, but hardly formal, white midi dress and an olive green cropped cardigan to pull on top of that. I matched white sandals with the dress and laid my clothes out on the bed before grabbing some makeup and going back into the bathroom. I put on a little bit of makeup, not too much. Some concealer, some blush, some lipgloss, mascara. Lots of it so it made my hazel-ish green eyes pop. And a little bit of highlighter so my skin was glowing. I zipped up the makeup bag, leaving it on the bathroom counter, and then went back out.

I changed out of my clothes and into the dress before looking at my hair. I sighed, taming it down a bit using my fingers and some water before slicking it back into a high ponytail. I smoothed down my hair on my head, leaving my curly ponytail behind, and then went back out, put on the cardigan and my sandals. I grabbed my phone, shoved the keycard into my phone case, and then headed out.

As I shut the door, I heard another door open and cringed almost immediately. I was hoping to avoid him. I contemplated going back into the room just so I could dodge him but then I thought:

Why should I be the one hiding?

I spun around, my eyes meeting his. Neither one of us said a word and just stood there for a long time. I glanced at his clothes. The white, thin v-neck full-sleeve sweater that hugged him perfectly while he had the sleeves bunched up to his elbows and the black trousers. Without making a sound, I turned around and quickly started walking towards the elevator.

Oh God, we have to share the elevator too, don't we?

I could feel him walking behind me, his footsteps soft but present on the black carpeted floor. He made no move to overtake me, he just lingered, walking slowly. Adam is not a slow walker, never has been. I would have to speed walk just to keep up with him or he would slow down to keep up with me.

I stopped abruptly and spun around to face him.

He stopped in his tracks, his hands still tucked into his pockets. "What have I done now?" he asked, looking at me blankly.

"I didn't say anything to you. I just forgot something." I moved to walk back to the room because it was just getting too damn hard to be so close to him, that too alone. Having him near me like this when it's only us two, it was overwhelming and it made me want to run and hide.

As I passed him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, keeping me in place. "Don't even try running. I'm not saying anything to you. Just keep walking. If I go there on my own, they'll ask me where you are and what's taking you so long."

I pulled away from him so fast, one would think his touch was burning me. I caught him looking at my arm where he touched me before lowering his hand. "Fine," I mumbled, "you lead the way."

He sighed and rolled his eyes, tucking his hands back into his pockets and walking ahead of me. I thought he's changed but he hasn't changed all that much. He acts differently now because of where we ended but he's the same. I stared at him while he walked slowly. I caught it in the way he would shorten his steps so that he was walking at a slower pace so he wouldn't lose me behind him.

Probably because, as he said, if one of us shows up there alone, they'll ask where the other person is.

Parts of him have changed and other parts haven't. The same goes for me. And while we haven't changed much, everything between us has changed drastically, that too for the worst. And it almost breaks my heart.

Hell, forget almost. It does break my heart.

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