You’ve got yourself wrapped so tight around me that I don’t even know where I end anymore.
And the worst part?
No, the best part. I don’t want to separate it. I don’t want to go back to whatever I was before you got in. Because this, this is the first time something has touched me without me needing to destroy it just to breathe again. Do you understand what you’ve done? You didn’t just get close, you got inside. And I let you. I fucking let you. That’s the part you should really be paying attention to, little Ghost. Because I don’t let anyone do that.
Ever.
But you, you didn’t ask. You just stayed around and somehow that was enough. So listen to me carefully now, because Imean this in a way I don’t mean anything else. I’ve run from everything. Everyone. My whole fucking life. But you? I’m not going anywhere. Not from you. Not ever.
Eyes.
On.
Me.
You don’t get to drift now, don’t you fucking dare do that soft little retreat thing you do when it gets too close. Because this? This is where I stop holding anything back. I don’t share, little Ghost. I don’t divide things into “mine” and “theirs” like it’s negotiable. If something is mine, it stays that way.
And you… you’re not slipping through my fingers. Not now, not later, not ever. I don’t care how this sounds to you. Actually, no, that’s not true. I care that you feel it, I want you to feel it. I want it to sit under your skin the same way you sit under mine, quiet and fucking impossible to ignore.
I will never let him near you.
Do you understand what I’m saying, or do I need to spell it out slower for you? Zwierek doesn’t get you, he doesn’t get close, he doesn’t even get to look in your direction. I know exactly what he is. I know how he moves, how he waits, how he takes. And I swear to you, I would tear him apart before I let him touch something that belongs to me. And you, little Ghost, you do.
Belong.
Don’t flinch at that, don’t pretend that word doesn’t hit somewhere it shouldn’t. You’ve been walking toward it this whole time. Every step, every time you didn’t close this and walk away like you should have. You chose this, you chose me. So don’t act surprised when I treat you like you’re mine, because you are. You’re mine to protect, mine to ruin. No one else gets that, no one else even comes close.
I would burn this whole fucking world down before I let anyone else put their hands on you, before I let anyone else leave a markthat isn’t mine. Do you understand? Because I mean it in a way that doesn’t leave room for doubt. There’s no version of this where I let you go. You can try to pull back, you can tell yourself this is too much, too intense, too wrong, but you won’t leave. You will always come back to me, and I’ll be right here when you do. Exactly where you left me, waiting. Because I’ve got a hold on you and you feel it too.
So I suggest you make this easier for the both of us, and stay right there where I can reach you. Where I can keep you exactly like this, caught between wanting to run and knowing you won’t. With that being said, it’s time to get back to the story, little Ghost.
The Confrontation
Chapter 34
Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the house we were staying in again.
I remember I stopped before the steps. Close enough that I could see the smudges on the lower windows, where hands had touched glass at some point and never wiped it clean again. Close enough that I could see the front door properly. The brass handle dulled, a faint streak under it where something had run down and dried. It looked normal in that way houses pretend to be, even when they’re not.
I stood there, hands in my pockets, shoulders a little tense. I didn’t notice it until later, but I remember my jaw hurting, like I’d been clenching it too hard for too long. And the thought that kept circling in my head wasn’t about the house. It was about him.
Zwierek.
I knew even before I opened that door, that he wasn’t going to take it well. There wasn’t a version of this where he nodded, accepted it, moved on. I hadn’t done what we came there to do, instead I walked away, and that was going to be a problem. What got under my skin wasn’t even that, it was how much I cared. That part pissed me off more than anything else standing there.
I should’ve been able to shrug it off. Walk in, say it, let him deal with it however he wanted, and not give a shit what he thought after. Instead, I stood outside the door like I was about to get judged. Like it mattered, likehemattered in a way he shouldn’t. I hated the fact that somewhere along the way, I had started measuring myself against him.
That there was something in me that still wanted his approval, even after everything. Even after seeing exactly what he wascapable of, even after being part of it. That’s the worst part, little Ghost. It’s not just that he’s there, it’s that I let him be. I leaned on him, let him fill space. The kind of space you don’t notice until it’s occupied, and suddenly it’s hard to imagine it empty again. That’s what I hated. That I couldn’t just cut it, end it. Tell him to go to hell and mean it. Because when I imagined it, really imagined it, there was something in me that resisted. That should’ve told me everything I needed to know.
I exhaled slowly and finally moved. Up the steps, one at a time, the wood creaking under my weight in a way that sounded too loud for how still everything else was. The closer I got to the door, the more I noticed the smell. At first I thought it was just the house. Old air, something stale, but then it hit properly. Heavy and wrong in the back of my throat.
I stopped for half a second with my hand on the handle.
That smell, it came from below, from the basement. I pushed the door open anyway. The air inside was thicker. It sat differently, warmer, but not in a comforting way, it clung. The smell was stronger now, unavoidable, woven into everything. The walls, the furniture, the floor, it didn’t belong to one place anymore. I stopped inside and closed the door behind me, the click echoed through the house and the walls inside my head, and then… nothing.
I stood there for a moment, just listening. My stomach turned, the smell pressing harder now that I wasn’t moving. It sat at the back of my tongue, metallic and sweet at the same time, and I had to swallow to keep it down. Still, that wasn’t the worst part, not even close, because underneath all of it, was the thought of having to find him, of having to say it out loud. That I didn’t do it, that I walked away, that I chose something else. That part twisted deeper than the smell ever could.
I took a step forward, then another, and that’s when I heard it. Faint, coming from below. I froze. My head turned slowly towardthe basement door at the end of the hallway. There it was again, a sound. I frowned, my eyes narrowing as I stared at the door.
