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“Please don’t mourn me.” As if I ever had a choice. As if either of us ever had control over anything in that respect—her ask impossible.
I could never not mourn my loved ones but if I were her I’d so totally say the same.
“Maybe”—I bite the tear that lines my lips—“if I tell you one day why I hate the snow, you will talk to me about who you become when you step into the shadows at night and stare into my window.”
The darkest parts are seen even without having to explain 😭
Despite my fear of not making it in time, she doesn’t fade away quickly or peacefully. She struggles for breath several times as I grip her tightly to me, talking her through it the best I can, doing my best to maintain and be the strength she needs during her very last fight. She keeps my eyes the whole time, every second, trusting me wholly to help her through it as I try to soothe any discomfort. Each unmerciful bout breaking me a little more until she stops struggling altogether.
WHYYYY!? MY HEART. MY SOUL. IM DEAD. IM BROKEN.
As my heart starts to clang with its new beat, my front door closes and begins to dissolve before it disappears entirely, once again leaving me a homeless soldier.
NOOOOO
“I don’t know which of us has it worse,” I finally say to Tobias, my fury quickly rising to the surface. “You because Cecelia still breathes, or me because Delphine wasn’t granted that privilege.”
The privilege!? I honestly will never recover from this. This poor man. No one can ever tell him he hasn’t been through hell. And fuck Tobias.
