Page 271 of Eternal
Her fingers were slow and clumsy, but she let me help her. I pulled the gloves onto her hands, one at a time, my thumb brushing over each of her knuckles like I could rub out the history etched beneath her skin.
And when I looked up, she was crying. Silent, just a single tear catching on the corner of her mismatched eyes.
“I didn’t want to feel anything for you,” she whispered.
“Too late,” I said, and kissed her again, slower this time. Full of ache. Full of every fucking thing I wasn’t allowed to feel for her. I was just waiting for her to destroy me.
I knew she could. And I’d accept it.
Her hands tangled in my coat. My arms wrapped around her like she might fall apart if I didn’t keep holding her together.
When we pulled apart, we were both breathing like we’d run a mile through grief.
“I’m taking you home,” I said, resting my forehead against hers.
“I can’t leave my bike,” she mumbled, tired now. Small.
“I’ll come get it in the morning,” I said softly. “You’re more important right now.”
She let out a quiet, hoarse laugh. “You think of everything.”
“I knew you’d come here with your bike. Put a tracker on it yesterday.”
Her knees buckled a little and I caught her again. This time, she didn’t fight me. Just leaned in. “You’re insane.”
“I’ll run you a bath. I’ll braid your hair. I’ll feed you dinner and even make you breakfast in the morning.”
“Don’t make promises,” she murmured into my chest. “Not when you might still have to kill me.”
I tightened my arms around her. “Do you still think I want to?”
She looked up at me. “Don’t you?”
“No,” I said, mouth near her temple.
Her fingers found the front of my shirt and clenched, hard. “Then what?”
“Then I’ll stop them,” I whispered. “And I’ll kiss you again, Azra.”
Her head dropped back to my shoulder.
And I held her there, beneath the stars, hands warm in the gloves I gave her.
My partner and I.
79
DAMIR
“Medicine” by Daughter
Present
She sat in the car next to me, eyes closed, heart too loud to ignore. She didn’t say a word the whole ride, and when we pulled up to the place I rented here, she opened her eyes like she forgot how to.
It wasn’t much, small, plain, old walls, rust in the corners.
And she brought her blanket and her journal up to her chest like a shield she didn’t want to let down just yet.
