Page 199 of Eternal
Hope is a stupid thing, hoping that better days are waiting isstupid.
They think it’s dramatic, people likeme. They think we’re overreacting, too stupid. But they don’t understand. This isn’t anger, it’s everything I’ve kept locked inside. It’s everything I’ve swallowed down and stuffed in a box until it finally bursts open, and now I’m here, screaming, breaking, ripping apart.
Because I’m not dramatic, I’m hurt, and angry at myself for feeling safe in the hands of a liar, like I did back then.
Because it means everything I unconsciously hoped for would never happen even if I try andtry and try.
Even if I’m done with the chaos.
It’s too late. I’m too far gone.
I hatehim. I hate him for this, for making me feel things I didn’t want to feel. I hate that I trusted him, even for a second. I gave him pieces of me I don’t give to anyone, my brother, my mother, my scar, my story. All of it. I let him in and he fucking lied to me.
I stabbed him for it and he deserved it, he had to have known, right? That I’d want to kill him. I don’t regret it. Ican’t. But I don’t want to let him break me even more.
I hear a knock at the door. I don’t know how long it’s been, hours? I don't care. I’m not opening it, I don’t want anything.
But then the door creaks open, and there he is, bleeding, bandage wrapped around his stomach, but still standing. He looks at me, and there's no softness. Only fury.
He’s there. Damir.Bleeding.
His head tilts back against the doorframe, breath shallow, blood darkening the bandage wrapped around his side. His shirt is damp with it, his knuckles raw, his eyes heavy. He should be dead. I should have killed him… but he’s here. He’s standing here and my heart falls again.
Stupid heart.
“There you are,” he says, his voice deep, tired, like he’s been through hell, and maybe he did. But I don’t care.He lied to me and he deserves this.
But then he steps forward, and I don’t stop him. I should, I want to, but my body betrays me.
For the first time in my life, my body craves someone, craves something.
He doesn’t wait, he never does. His hands are cold when they grab my face, fingers digging in like he’s terrified I’ll break between his hands, and he’s shaking. “You’re fucking insane,” he rasps. “But fuck it. I want you, Azra. I fucking want you.”
And then he kisses me.
Damir is kissing me.
It’s not soft, it’s nothing tender, nothing careful. It’s hard and deep and angry, like he’s trying to hurt me back, like he needs to. And maybe I want him to, maybe I want to taste the rage on his tongue, the betrayal, the obsession, all of it.
It feels like a confession, or a punishment.
Our first kiss.
His lips are crushing me, they’re trying to force something into me, engraving it in my head. That he’s still here. That even after I left him for dead, he came for me, that even if I run, even if I erase him, even if I kill him, he won’t leave.
Because it’s too late.
Because for the first time, he seems like he has forgotten his rules. The mission. The orders. The lies.
And he’s kissing me like he’ll die if he stops.
I want to pull away, I want to scream, to stab him again, but I can't.
He kisses me harder, his lips pressing into mine with this desperation, and my heart beats faster, so fast I’m scared it might stop.
“You’re still angry, partner?” He whispers against my lips. “Try to kill me again. I don’t care. I’m here. And I’m not leaving.”
The words, the anger, it’s all a mess. But his hands are on me, touching me like he owns me, like I’m his to break. And, I fucking want it. I want him, even if I can’t stand the way he made me feel, even if I want to destroy him for using my weakness to try and stop me.
