Page 190 of Eternal
She sawme.
“It’s been a while. Why are you still following me?” Her voice was calm; like she was talking to an old friend. She ran her fingers through her hair, adjusting her knife, and I moved.
In seconds, I had her against the wall, my hand around her throat, my breath against her skin, still warm with blood.
“What the fuck are you playing at?”
My voice was the same one she knew, and for a fraction of a second, I saw her mind connect the dots. A flicker of hesitation… recognition.
Then she reacted, she kneed me, but I anticipated it, caught her mid-air, and threw her leg over my shoulder.
“Who are you, and why are you following me?”
My fingers slid down her leg. “I hate seeing someone else touch you.”
Her pupils dilated, then she shoved me off.
We rolled, her on top, me beneath, her knife against my throat.
And I exhaled, slowly. “Azra.” A whisper.Her name.
And at that moment, she froze, her fingers tightened around the hilt of her blade. She didn’t talk, but I felt it. The way her eyes widened. I could see a flash of memories, thoughts, feelings, and I smiled under my mask, softly. Because I wished she’d stop me, I wish she could just make me say it.
I was tired of lying. I wantedher.
I said it again. “Partner…”
She finally understood, and without hesitation, she turned the handle.
A clean punch to the temple, the world tilted.
Then… nothing. Black.
54
DAMIR
“Meet You At The Graveyard” by Cleffy
Past
“You’d hate this weather,” I said, crouched low, elbows resting on my knees. “Too cold. And really quiet.”
I rubbed my thumb against my knuckles, cracked and red from the wind.
My other hand pours the vodka into five small plastic cups.
One by one, placed in front of me, no gravestones marked with their names, just memory. Like they didn’t even deserve a real burial, like they were already ghosts.
“Vlad, you remember when I promised you that I’d protect you forever, you were so small, so young… And I had to be the older brother, because you trusted me with your life. Do you hate me for this? For failing I mean?”
Nothing.
“Yeah, I know right… feels weird now. You were there, and now you’re not.”
The photo is still in my hand, creased edges, old ink. They were all laughing that day, all of them. I can almost hear the picture. Oleg’s stupid jokes, and Roman complaining about the cold and how hungry he was. I can hear the song too, that old Russian song Yuri and Vlad loved so much.
“Roman would’ve brought gloves again. He’d say it was ‘too cold’ to drink in silence and alone here.”
