Page 166 of Eternal
“When I was younger,” I start, my voice barely audible, “I used to point at the stars in the sky, and my mom would name them. She knew them, or maybe she lied about them, but I still believed her. I’d smile, listening to her, thinking she was the onlyone who understood me. If she knew the stars personally, she probably knew what I was thinking too.”
I glance at the stars above, feeling their cold light wash over me, and for a moment, I can almost hear my mother’s voice, warm, loving, naming each one like she used to. It’s funny; I can almost believe she was right.
That the stars really had names, that they meant something more than just a tiny flicker of light in an empty sky.
But then I remember that her voice stopped sounding warm.
Maybe it’s just the sound of memory inventing her voice in my head.
Maybe it was never that warm.
The stars don’t look the same anymore, not like they did when I was five and thought they belonged to us, tome.
I glance at Damir, but I don’t want him to see the weakness in my eyes.
I stop, unable to say more. There’s a pause, a beat where everything feels like it might shatter, but then, without a word, Damir pulls me closer.
He shifts, his body close to mine, warmth spreading through me like a blanket I don’t deserve but need,desperately. His fingers curl around my hand and he does it again, a caressing thumb, up and down.
Up and down.
I glance at him, still not sure what to make of what we are, what this is, but all I think about is how I want to talk to him even more.
“Do you think you can hate a ghost?” I ask, the words coming out before I can stop them.
He doesn’t answer right away, he takes a long breath, smiles sadly and then, finally, he says, “I do. I hate some ghosts.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he says, voice barely a murmur. “I had a friend like you. He never showed anything he didn’t want people to see. He was always pretending to be... sohappy. Smiling, laughing, like he had no care in the world. I hated him for it. Hated that he wasn’t happy enough. Hated I couldn’t make him happier.” His jaw tightens, and I can see it. See the pain, the guilt.
“He never thought his heart would get him killed,” Damir continues, voice rougher now. “And I hated him for not knowing. For not seeing what was coming. He could’ve kept that smile, just one more second... but he didn’t.”
I freeze.
I’ve never seen him like this, so raw, sohuman. I can feel his pain, see it clearly. He is talking to me about something personal, and it's strange. He’s vulnerable with me, broken like me.
My mind screams at me to pull away, to shield myself from whatever he’s pulling out of me, but something stops me. His words keep turning in my stupid brain, and as if all logic and cautiousness left my body, I don’t know how to ignore the need to do something.
I want to reach out, to say something that’ll stop the bleeding in his heart, the guilt I know all too well, but Ican’t.
I look at him then,reallylook at him. And for just a second, I let myselfwant. Want tostayhere. Want toheal. Want to be something more than this cold, fractured thing that beats in emptiness.
Maybe then, I’ll be able to help.
But then, just as quickly as it came, the moment slips away. I force myself to swallow, pulling back before I can feel the heaviness of what that desire means. I can’twanthim. Not like that.
But he doesn’t have to know that, he’s still looking at me, waiting, and at that moment, all I can do is stare back. Wantinghim to want me, the real me, is the worst thing I should do, and then, before I can stop myself, I say it. “If you had my name... would you call me by it?”
Damir doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at me and smiles, and I wonder if he even understands the depth of what I’m asking. It’s not just about this name I hide. It’s about discovering everything that resulted from the moment I had it.
The love, the loss, the pain, the abuse.
Would he still call me by my name? Or would he be disgusted seeing the scars, knowing the addiction I went through, the abuse that broke my soul from the inside?
But then, his lips hover over mine, just inches away, and everything inside me tightens, my chest is burning, slowly. He’s so close I can feel the delicate brush of his breath against my skin, and it’s fucking agonizing. I want to break that distance. I want to breathe him in until everything falls away. I want to kiss him, drown in him, until nothing is left but the two of us.
“If you want me to,” he murmurs, his voice so quiet, it almost feels like a secret only I am destined to hear. His thumb brushes against my hand, and my eyes follow the dilation of his irises, this small and stupid involuntary reaction. “Do you,partner?”
