Alter Arlo

by Nordika Night

“I see him but do not know him. I feel him but cannot touch him. I follow him but cannot catch him.”

“I wanted to be a poet.” “What are you now?” “Half.” “Half what?” “Half of everything. Nothing whole.”

“I am chained to freedom.” “Isn’t freedom supposed to be a good thing?” “Not when you want to belong to someone.” “Who do you want to belong to?” “Nothing.” Me. I was nothing.

Chaos. Serenity. Danger. Bravery. Safety. Love. Lust. Regret. Sleepiness.

When the worst of it subsided, my entire self gave out, and I crashed to my knees in front of Keiran, bowing before this god of sick health and worshipping all the ways he broke me.

Wherever this life took us, we’d go together because we were two pin-pricked voodoo dolls, tied together, feeling each other’s pain in different places.

“Want to haunt him?” “No,” Zade said. “Too late,” Keiran told him. “You already do. Every day. Every time he sees you. Every time you speak, move, walk or talk, you haunt him. Just like you haunt yourself.”

Cadoc was trying to change, to love him more tenderly, to stop being rough with him because he knew he deserved better, but Zan wanted the kind of love that Cadoc freely gave. Not some muted fake version. I love you, Cadoc. Don’t stop.

“I’m not enough of someone to have a thing anymore.”

It was like an exorcism. I was the demon that was being expelled. I think I needed it.

“And when my venom infects your blood and turns it black, I will throw you into your lover’s arms so he can save you.”

“Forever the three of us.”

I stared into his eyes and gave him my grief, my anger, and my hopelessness. Then I showed him my newly sparked hope and gave him that, too. I gave him my sick desires, access to my dreams, permission to invade my mind, and acceptance that he was growing like cancer in my heart.

“Do you feel me?” “Savagely.” “Is it enough?” “It’s everything.”