Page 158 of 912321

My body aches. “Can I stay here forever?” I ask as she vanishes with a smile.

His face appears instead of hers. The man who tried to hurt me. He falls on top of me, before collapsing completely. His warm blood runs down my dress, my neck, my arms. And I get up, pushing him back until he falls down.

Breathe. Step back. Stop.

My hands tremble as if they weren’t mine. He’s on the ground, dead. I said no. I know I said no. Why is that never enough?

The door opens and I can’t look away from his body on the floor. Dead. He’s dead.

“Put that knife down Mireya,” Damien’s voice came through.

When is he even here? Is this all in my head?

I turn around, threatening whatever this is with it, as if it was possible to kill a memory of a shadow. “You’re not real.” I keep repeating it, closing my eyes, blinking away the fog and anger. “You’re not real.” I feel him getting closer, and I’m still not sure.

“Mireya, look at me.”

His voice… Maybe everything is real.

I open my eyes, meeting his sorry gaze. And nothing comes out of my mouth. The knife is still in my hands, trying to make him leave, and scare him away. Even if it’s an illusion, even if it’s just in my head. He needs to leave before I hurt him. But he doesn’t, instead he gets closer, closer enough for me to see my reflection in his eyes.

Broken Mireya. Stupid Mireya.

His hand closes around the blade, blood pooling down from his fingers to the ground, and everything stops working at the same time. The room is still there but I can’t keep it stable in my head, it keeps slipping out of my reach every time I try to look at it properly.

“Put it down.”

I hear him but it doesn’t attach to anything. His hand is still around the blade, as he pulls himself closer. He’s hurting, but it feels like pain is the only bridge he can cross to reach me.

My hand opens without me really understanding why or when that decision happened.

“Look at me,” he says, fingers brushing my cheek.

I’m trying, I’m really trying. All I see is blue eyes softening and worried, clouded by memories of me crying on my bathroom floor, praying that the shadow will forget about me.

“Mireya.” That one breaks the complete drift for a second, enough that I notice I’m not fully here anymore. “Remember the star you made in my office?” The star… “Safe. I wished for you to be safe.”

“Damien… I still see him everywhere,” I say finally, with a shaky voice.

I still see him even when I try to reach the cliff, I see him every time I think I’m doing better. I always see him. In a second, strong and warm arms are encircling me.

I can feel his heartbeat, focusing on how slow it’s pulsing.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

“You’re here,” he says. “You’re with me.”

My breath stutters, my hands feel like they belong to me again, and my body is returning in small pieces and I’m not even the one putting it back together.

His bloody hand wraps around the back on my neck, and I hear him clearly, finally.

“You can breathe. I’ve got the rest.”

I’m here, but I can feel the glass still moving inside me, and even his hands careful over it can’t stop it from remembering how to cut.

67

Damien