“Yeah, sorry. I’ll go,” I sniffled, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.
I sat upright, but then, as if I had no control over my body, I began to sob.
Sob wasn’t the right word.
I fucking wailed.
Tears came shooting out of me like lava, burning and salty, stinging my eyes and turning my cheeks raw. Everything that had been building up since I awoke in Lumosia came to a head, and I just lost complete control.
Sawyer’s muscles clenched as he sat up, the thin skin by his eyes creasing. “Maeve? What's wrong?”
I waved him away. “Nothing. I—I just…Nothing, I’m fine. I’m sorry. I?—”
I couldn’t even form a damn sentence. My breathing snagged on my ribs and the words got caught in my lungs.
“Come here.” Sawyer’s tone was softer than I usually received from him. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling my back tightly against his bare chest. “What are you thinking?”
A mix of panic and grief shrouded my every sense. My vision was nothing more than a blur. My nose was too stuffed to breathe properly. My mouth was dry and my hands shook so hard I couldn't even dig my fingernails into my palms for some relief.
“Maeve. Talk to me.”
My head shook furiously as I tried to find the words. Any words. Even just one damn word.
Sawyer pivoted a bit so he could get a glimpse of my puffy, snotty face.
“Take a breath, then tell me what you’re thinking.”
I did. I sucked in a raspy bite of air, forcing it out through the gaps of my teeth, then repeating the motions until I found my voice.
“Everything. My mind won't stop. It never fucking stops, and I can’t fucking sleep,” I blubbered through my dying fit of hyperventilation, yawning in the middle of the sentence. “Everything is such a mess, and it is all my fault, and now Sebastian and I—” I yawned again.
“You are exhausted. Lay down.” Sawyer patted the mattress next to him.
My head shook vigorously, my hair shrouding his face. “No. I can’t. I need to start looking for the journal." I sucked in another harsh, jagged breath, tears surpassing my lips as I attempted to control my lungs.
“You aren't going to be looking for anything if you pass out from lack of oxygen. Breathe, damnit,” Sawyer demanded, swatting my hair out of his eyes.
He held me in silence for a few minutes, during which I followed instruction, using the pace of his breathing to settle my own.
“You’re okay. Everything will be okay,” Sawyer's words slipped over the back of my neck. “Lay down and try to sleep. I will help you in the morning.”
When I couldn't move, he pulled me down with him, rolling to his side and leaving an arm draped over my stomach. The position, although a bit intimate for friends, was comforting and exactly what I needed to finally get some sleep.
“There'snothing in any of these books,” I complained from where I sat crossed-legged on the floor of the common room, an entire bookshelf scattered around me and leaving hardly any room to walk.
“What exactly are you looking for again?” Pia flipped through a thin, red novel before tossing it to the side.
“Information about seers. Anything that might help me find where Cicily left her journal.”
“You might find information on seers in these books, but you certainly won’t find anything about Aunt Cicily.” Pia rose to her feet, stepping over piles of books to try and reach the bookshelf we hadn’t touched yet.
“There must be something about the Caelestis’ royal family. Ancestry? A family tree? Anything,” I replied, throwing another useless book over my shoulder.
“She was a very private person. You might find Aldous’ ancestry maybe, but not hers. And even if you did, it wouldn't be much help, anyway.”
“Do you know where Seb found the first journal?”
“He said that he found it in her closet a few years back.” Pia sat on the sofa with a leather-bound book, pulling her legs up to her chest. “But Uncle Aldous had her things cleared out since then, and if I’m remembering correctly, he donated them shortly after.”
