Your POV

"Welcome home!" Emerson announced, throwing the front door open. You walked inside, and you and Ethan immediately fell onto the couch. Emerson laughed at us. "Guys, your bags!"

You groaned. "But jetlag, though!"

"We can get them in the morning." Ethan told her.

Emerson sighed, closing the front door. "Fine, but at least go upstairs to sleep." She kicked her shoes off. I'm going to bed. Night!"

"Night!" The both of you said to her. You heard the faint sound of her bedroom door closing.

"So... what do we do?" You asked Ethan.

He shrugged. "Sleep, I guess. I mean, we're both tired."

You sat up on the couch. "You go get a head start. I'm gonna go get a drink of water." Ethan nodded and stood up, walking upstairs. You moved into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice and water. You took a sip, enjoying the shockingly cold water. You leaned backwards on the counter, placing your free hand on it. Your hand touched something, so you looked over at what it was.

It was a yellow notebook with the word "Poems" written on the front in black Sharpie. There were hearts and stars all over the cover.

I wonder what they're about... You opened the notebook, flipping to the first page and reading the poem. You read one after the other, your eyes slowly getting wider. You hurriedly finished your glass and put it in the sink, taking the notebook and walking upstairs to your bedroom.

Ethan was already in the bed, passed out in pajamas. There was an outfit laid out for you, and you looked at it- a white tank top and shorts. You smiled and put the notebook on your dresser. That can wait. You quickly changed and laid down, succumbing to your jetlag.

Timeskip

You woke up slowly, your arm thrown across the mattress where Ethan usually sleeps. You sat up in the bed, looking around the bedroom. You saw Ethan and your bags near the door. You looked at the time and saw that it was 8:37 in the morning. You slid out of bed and walked over to your mirror, putting your hair up in a bun.

That's when you noticed it- the notebook was gone. You finished up and walked downstairs to the kitchen.

Ethan was sitting at the dining room table, eating a plate of pancakes and reading from the notebook. He looked up at you when you walked in and smiled. "Morning, beautiful."

You smiled back. "Morning." You walked over and kissed his hair. "You're reading the poems?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Did you write them?"

You shook your head. "No, I didn't. I found them on the counter last night."

"Well, they're really good. Here, look at this one." He held the notebook up, and you took it, reading the page it was on.

Breathe in the fresh air, 
Put your mind at ease. 
Let down your hair,
Let it flow in the breeze. 

Let your eyes wander
To all the beauty to be seen. 
If those toxic thoughts you still do ponder,
Then let out a scream. 

Scream until the pain is gone,
Until you no longer feel afraid. 
Open your eyes to a new dawn,
Let the darkness fade. 

No longer compare yourself
Or your flaws to others' perfections. 
Take the negativity off the shelf,
Focus on your direction. 

Pick the sadness up off the floor,
Sweep it into the wind. 
Close the door on self-hatred,
Never let it back in. 

For the lies it would often tell you,
You will no longer agree. 
Happiness and love are what you should hold onto,
They are whom you should give the key. 

Pay no attention to the toxic thoughts,
Listen to those who adore everything you are. 
Overthinking was what you once were taught, 
But now those thoughts you put in a jar. 

Focus on your goals,
Never lose your fight. 
It's time to open new scrolls,
Everything will be all right.

"...wow." You whispered.

"I know. It's really powerful, huh?" You handed the notebook back. "Wait, if I didn't write it... and you didn't write it... then-"

"Emerson did." You finished for him. "Wow. She's really talented."

"Who's talented?" Emerson asked, walking in.

"You are." Ethan told her. "Seriously, why have you never shown us these?"

Emerson looked at the notebook and blushed. "You... know about that?"

"Yeah, we do. Em, don't be embarrassed! You have a real talent!" You exclaimed, hugging her. "You should be proud."

She read the poem on the page, smiling a small smile. "I guess I am."