Page 288 of Nemesync
Boom, the world shattered beneath my feet, my heart pierced, everything disappeared.
Guilt and regret became the essence of my existence, I grappled with the fact that Luna’s presence in my life had been the catalyst for her death. I couldn’t shake the “what if” thoughts.
Days turned into a blurry mess of tears and unanswered questions after that. The funeral was all sad colors, and the hole she left just got bigger, making it harder to breathe. Her memory stuck to my soul like an indelible mark I couldn’t scrub off, the blood, the way her face felt empty, it followed me into every next part of my life.
The ache she left was boundless, so deep, so present, soeffective.
I wasn’t depressed, I was sad, and alone.
Sometimes the two emotions collide so strongly that you can think that it’s depression. And maybe it was at a time, but now it’s something different. Back then, I felt way more sensitive to emotions and sadness.
Now, I’m more empty than sad. And that emptiness with remorse is the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.
You’re just all alone with yourself and rethinking everything you could’ve done differently when you had the chance to.
But then you’ll get frustrated and stop.
Just a few weeks ago, I tried to end it too, I failed, but I understand her now.
I understand how selfish despair can make you.
Choosing tranquility rather than the loud hell in your head, even if you know it’s going to hurt the people who care about you.
Choosing yourself for the first time of your life.
But love was stronger somehow, because I began choosing Elijah over my own tranquility.
After that we went back home, the last night in paradise. Tomorrow we’ll have to face our reality.
With the window ajar in the room, allowing the salty air to fill the space around us, I approached Elijah, who laid on the bed like my own monument of strength and comfort.
Straddling him, I gazed into his eyes, green and deep, how I loved them.
His hands rested on my hips tenderly, silently.
He was just so beautiful. His face, his little scars, and his eyes. I smiled in front of this picture of him. He got tanned, and it looked so good on his cheeks.
The sight before me was captivating—the face of the man who lived to break me down but ultimately rebuilt me from the ground up.
My gaze trailed down his chest, sculpted with muscles, tattoos and scars. Leaning in, I pressed a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, his closed eyes, and finally, his lips.
Each kiss felt like a remedy.
Each touch felt like an antidote.
Our lips engaged in a delicate war, passionate and destructive. His hands gripped my hips tighter than before, pulling me closer. It wasn’t silent anymore, it was loud,so loud.
A smile played on his lips, and I relished the sensation.
Breaking the kiss, I inhaled deeply, savoring the same air as him. “Have I already told you how much I love feeling your hands on me?”
He grinned, pressing me even closer, his body melded with mine. “Have I told you how I fucking love to feelyouon me?”
He swiftly spun me around, switching our positions. Now, he was above me, that playful smile lingering on the corner of his lips. “But I prefer being on top, feeling your hands scratching my back, watching your pupils dilate up close as I make you come,Milaya.”
I smiled, “Care to show me, Volkov?”
“Dying to,” he teased. Without waiting a second, he lowered my swimsuit bottom, and his shorts, making him naked on me. I quickly removed my top too.
