Page 307 of Eternal
I forgot his name. I remember his hands more than his face. He drops his pencil a lot in front of me.
He has soft eyes. Green, and kind.
Alexei had green eyes too. His stopped being kind when he left.
He took Eren and disappeared when my mom started killing herself slowly.
Left me with her, like I was supposed to be the one to fix her. I was a baby taking care of an adult.
Already learning how to hide the pills, cover the bruises, pour water into empty bottles so she wouldn’t notice.
He only came back when she was sober enough to look like a normal person again.
I never forgave him for leaving me behind to raise the woman who was supposed to raise me. I missed him a lot, still do. I wanted him to be there, to see me grow, to be proud of me.
But I understood pretty quickly… he didn’t want that as much as I did.
And yeah, I never forgave him.
Still… I remember his eyes. They were warm, like Vik’s, like the eyes that are fixed on me right now.
In another life, maybe I could’ve had a crush on this boy with soft green eyes.
Maybe I would’ve been a normal girl, not broken, not afraid, just a girl who smiled because someone was kind to her.
In another life.
He’s got paint stains on his backpack and black music notes scribbled on his jeans.
He nods at my pocket. “I’ve seen you with that busted MP3 player before.”
My heart skips from fear. I don’t know but I say fast, “It’s not mine.”
“I thought I heard Radiohead once. They’re good. Some of the sad stuff… hits harder than it should.”
I say nothing for a few seconds. “My mom liked them,” I finally replied.
He smiles a little. “Then she had good taste.”
I almost say thank you. But I don’t.
No, she didn’t.
She loved things that ruined her. Loving anything too hard gets you dead.
I look away, trying to scare him so he can leave. It’s safer like that. No one leaves if there’s no one around to begin with.
He sits next to me anyway, pulls something out of his backpack. A scratched MP3 player, wrapped in a folded paper towel, my name’s there, scrawled in pen across the front.
Azra. On the back:From Leo
“I recorded a few tracks. Stuff I made. Thought you might like it.” He shrugs, trying not to look nervous. “You look like someone who reallyhearsmusic. Not just listens to it.”
Something tightens in my chest.
I want to cry, I want to thank him, I want to throw it in the trash before hope finds a way in and eats me alive. “Don’t give me things,” I say.
“Why not?”
