Page 254 of Eternal
“I’ll take you home,” I mutter against her skin, the words raw with yearning.
We don’t talk on the drive back. Music’s playing low, something she likes, and I let it play. No reason to cut it.
She’s slouched against the window, cheek pressed to the glass. Her breath fogs it up in little clouds. She looks… small. Not physically. Just... folded in on herself. Like a tired kid who never got hugged enough.
And drunk. Not tipsy… drunk. The kind that gets into your bones and starts pulling memories out of you whether you want them or not.
I keep glancing over. My hands stay tight on the wheel, but I’m barely seeing the road.
I missed her. Not just the fire or the chaos. I missed the quiet parts.
The heaviness she carries like it’s normal.
The way she just exists and somehow makes me feel like I’m bleeding and breathing all at once.
When we pull up in front of her building, she gives me this half-lidded look like,Alright, you did your job. You can go.
“I’m walking you up,” I say.
She doesn’t fight me. Doesn’t even sigh. Just nods. That’s when I know she’s more gone than she’s letting on.
In the elevator, she sways a little. I rest a hand on the small of her back. Not grabbing, just there. Steadying. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t lean in either. Just accepts it.
But she’s cold. And I’m close enough that I can smell the alcohol on her skin.
Outside her apartment, she digs through her keys. Pulls out her motorcycle key and tries to shove it in the lock. I watch for a second.
Yeah. She’s really not okay.
“That’s not it,” I say, quietly. “That’s your bike key.”
She blinks at it, like it’s the one that screwed up. “I’m not helpless,” she mutters.
“I know,” I say, and I mean it. Still, I take the keys from her gently. “Just let me help, alright?”
She lets me. The door clicks open. She walks in without turning on the lights. I step in just enough to see the mess.
Bottles. One on the kitchen counter. Two near the couch. One knocked over, like it got into a fight and lost.
My stomach sinks.
“Azra,” I say, low.
“Don’t,” she snaps. “You can leave now, Damir.”
I stay where I am. Watch her stand there like the room is shaking under her feet. Like she’s holding herself up by sheer force of habit. She finally turns to face me.
“You didn’t have to walk me up.”
“I wanted to.”
She tilts her head, that crooked smile that doesn’t fool me for a second. “You gonna tuck me in too?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I come in, I won’t have the will to leave.”
