32|Empty Bed

~Rylee~

The penthouse felt so lonely without Klaus. Cold, silent.

It has been three days since Philadelphia. I tried calling him, left him a voicemail asking where he was or how he’s been, but received no response. I called Ghost instead, asking how Klaus is doing. If Klaus didn’t want to be found, there’s nothing anyone can do.

He needs time. He needs his space, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss him. I miss his cooking, miss the knowing crooked smile where one tip of his lips would lift higher than the other, a telltale that he’s in the mood to piss me off. I miss the stolen glances he’d pinned on my ass when he thought I wasn’t looking. Even his scent and his mere presence…

Groaning, I turned on my back and stared at the white ceiling of my room.

I reached for my new phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up with Klaus’ face. Call me a crazy creep, but whenever I miss him, or when ‘Rylee the spy’ wants to take over and look for him, I stare at his picture like a teenager fawni