“Evan?”
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The noise buzzes around my head. So loud. So aggressive.
I flick my gaze to his arms, resting by his sides.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Evan?” I repeat his name as my heart thumps.
A low cry bursts through the forest. It’s filled with pain and terror. I head straight towards him, but every step feels like I’m stuck in thick mud. My legs drag, and I grit my teeth, trying my hardest to reach him.
After a few moments, Evan turns to face me. Tears stain his cheeks as he cries. It’s an agony I never knew I could feel.
My eyes move from his face to his arms, seeing dark liquid pool around his wrists. That’s when I see blood dripping over his palms and onto the ground beside him.
Cuts. So many cuts. All down his forearms.
“Pups,” I rasp in despair. “What have you done?”
“I-I can’t make them stop,” he chokes out hauntingly.
I’m fighting against my strength to get to him, but I can’t move. He’s getting further and further away. Panic rips through me as I reach for him, but I’m still so far.
“Evan, come here, please,” I murmur desperately.
His head shakes. “Better off dead.”
My forehead pinches, and it feels like I’ve been stabbed a thousand times over.
“Why did you do this? Let me see. Let me help you.”
“C-can’t.” He trembles before his knees give out, and he hits the floor.
“Evan!”
His eyes close, blood smeared all over his T-shirt. A growl bellows from my chest as I attempt to rip my legs from the mud, fighting to get to him, but I can’t. Why can’t I reach him?
The stench of blood filters through my nose. His lifeless body lies there.
“Evan!”
I jolt between the sheets,my body flying upwards as I catch my breath. My skin is coated in a thick layer of sweat, to the point that the duvet and pillow are soaked right through.
My eyes dart down to Evan as he lies beside me. He’s curled up in a ball with his eyes firmly closed. I watch his chest to find it rising and falling softly.
I’m still shaking from how real the dream felt. My stomach is in pieces at the images of his blood, his tears, his devastation. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to control my erratic heartbeat. My lip worms its way between my teeth as I gnaw at the skin helplessly.
The second my eyes snag on his wrist that lies flat on the bed, the button having fallen undone during sleep. I suck in a breath and raise my fingers before subtly flicking open the material. I shudder at the sight before me.
White scars. Red scars. Healing scars.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath and turn to swing my legs over the edge of the bed.
My head falls into my hands.
No. No. No.
