Page 208 of Cerulean Truth
"He... doesn't," she emphasized on the "he," closing any distance between us and resting her head on my chest. I closed my eyes, letting that moment sink in. My arms automatically closed around her, and I heard her sigh in relief.
I could feel her heartbeat against my chest, rapid and loud—or was that mine? Gods, I wanted her so much, but I was hurting. I endured the tears prickling behind my eyes; I couldn't breathe, so I pushed her away softly, her eyes locked on my face. I felt nauseous, sick to my very core, and although I wanted everything she was offering, I couldn't.
"I can't," I whispered, conveying all the hurt and pain I was feeling in those two words.
She closed her eyes in defeat, letting out one tear that rolled over her cheek. I wanted so badly to kiss her, to bury myself in her, to forget everything I knew and let her know how I felt about her. But I couldn't. He had won. He was the superior magus, and he deserved her love more than I did. Even her mind was obviously convinced of that, subconsciously or not.
"I'm sorry, Emma, but whatever this is, this was, it's over. Please, don't contact me for a while; I need..." I sighed, not really knowing what I needed. "I need time."
I kissed her forehead and noticed more tears dripping. Maybe they were hers, maybe they were mine. I turned around and walked away. Just before portaling back to the Universitas, I looked over my shoulder, casting a glance at her one last time. She had dropped to her knees and was crying silently, head in her hands.
My heart broke into a thousand pieces... I shook my head and closed the portal behind me, trying to breathe, feeling like I never would again.
All those months, trying to analyze what she was, figuring out what she meant to me and what we were, it had all been in vain; Emma turned out to be the fucking author of my pain.
And the architect of my ruin.
FIFTY-EIGHT
EMMA
His words had torn my soul apart...
I couldn't even deny he was justified in not trusting me; after all, I had just "married" someone else without even understanding how.
I didn't feel any different though; had it really happened? I had to find Julian and get answers immediately. However, attempting to contact him proved futile; he didn't answer my calls and I sighed deeply in disappointment as I embarked on the long walk back to Universitas.
By the time I reached my dorm, I nearly buckled under the exhaustion weighing me down. I leaned my head against the door, hoping the cold steel would jolt me awake from the nightmare I was living. It didn't.
Opening the door, I felt grateful for the familiar sight of my bed, even though it was but late in the afternoon. Despite a deep yearning to cry, my tears stubbornly refused to spill, my body too worn out and I couldn’t wait to cuddle with my covers and sob in my pillow.
However, as I took a step into my room, I heard a distant thrum echoing from downstairs. Leaning back, I strained to hear what was going on but couldn’t discern anything unusual.Slowly, I retreated a few steps down the hall, then down the stairs, edging closer to the level below, but there was still nothing out of the ordinary.
Had I imagined it? The past few days had been undeniably eventful, perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me.
I shrugged, prepared to turn around when I heard it again—a low, menacing rumble, akin to a relentless beast, signaling its hunger. Some primal instinct kicked in, and I found myself teetering on the edge of a fight-or-flight response. In a split-second decision, I raced back upstairs, grabbed all the knives from my room, and stashed them strategically in my clothes.
As if on cue, a child's scream pierced the air at full volume.
Without thinking, I bolted down the stairs as quickly as my legs could carry me, taking a few minutes to reach the first level of the Scola. I hurried to the Epicenter, trying to ascertain where the noise had come from.
As I ran through the hallway of the Third Hour, I noticed most teachers had already emerged from their classrooms, their expressions now shifting from curiosity to concern. The dimming sunlight cast shadows on their faces, accentuating the worry etched across their features. Whispers of speculation spread among the faculty as they exchanged uneasy glances, trying to make sense of the deafening noise.
"What is that?" I gasped, addressing the first teacher I encountered, desperately trying to catch my breath.
"Not sure," she replied, her uncertainty mirroring my own.
The noise swelled, growing louder, and anxiety rippled through the gathering crowd. A sense of panic became palpable, and my heart raced wildly while my hands trembled involuntarily.
Boom. Boom.
The ominous rumble morphed into a thunderous stomp, each earth-shaking boom closing in faster than I could comprehend.
Boom. Boom.
The sound was deafening, nearly painful.
"What the hell is that?" I muttered under my breath, my voice barely audible over the unyielding barrage.
