Okay.Breathe.You’re just being paranoid.
But I don’t take another step. Something feels off. I grip the railing tighter. “Andrik?” I call softly. “This isn’t funny. I’m sorry, okay?”
Nothing. Just the slight hum of the fluorescent lights lining the ceiling.
I turn back toward the lower stairs, more hurried now.
Just get to him. Just find him. Just?—
I slam into something so hard my contacts are knocked free. My heart freezes. All I can make out is a black, shadowy figure.
A strong floral scent hits my nose—the smell is so familiar.
My chest tightens when a whisper curls from the shadows like it’s wrapping itself around my neck.
“Not a single wound, but you’re still bleeding,” he says.
My body breaks out in chills. I take off, pumping my legs as fast as I can back up to my floor. My breath comes too fast. My fingers tremble as I reach into my coat for the knife I keep clipped to the inside pocket. I can barely see anything.
“Andrik,” I whisper, this time barely audible. “Please come back. I’m sorry.”
19
BAMBI
Lumi pov-
I burst through the last stairwell door and sprint down the hall. I don’t slow down until I’m back in my apartment. I slam the door shut and lock all nine locks behind me. It’s empty. Andrik’s still not back, but the scent of cloves lingers, and it hurts more than I want to admit.
I turn in a slow circle, checking the kitchen, the corners, my bedroom—nothing. Just cold air and the sharp echoes of my own heartbeat.
This is my fault. I did this. I pushed him—like I do with everyone. I groan into my hands as I sit down on the couch. I can’t stop myself from rocking slightly. My brain is teetering between guilt, humiliation, and fear.
The floral scent from the hallway hits me, and I spin around, expecting to see whatever I ran into in the hallway standing behind me. No one's there. Just below the coat-hook is a flower that wasn’t here before I went looking for Andrik.
A snowdrop—perfect, white, and delicate. I crouch down slowly, my fingers tremble as they brush over the petals.
My knife is suddenly in my hand as I push every door open. Checking underneath the beds and inside every closet.
Nothing.
I back into the center of my apartment, pulse pounding. My eyes sting, and my chest feels too tight.
“Andrik?” I whisper. No answer. “Andrik?!” I scream. A tear slips down my cheek, hot and furious. “You promised,” I whisper. “You said you wouldn’t let him near me.”
A gust of wind tears through the living room. There’s a huge shape, but it blurs. There’s a flash of pale hair and storm-lit eyes bursting in from the balcony door.
Andrik.
He sees me, knife in hand, tear-streaked, shaking, and goes still.
His whole frame tenses. “Lumi?—”
“He was here,” I choke out.
Andrik’s face shifts partially, before morphing back into the one I’m used to.
He has me wrapped in his arms before I’ve even registered he’s taken a single step.
