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“Am I really, Damien? I don’t think I am anything but a broken version of a person who could’ve been happy.”

It hurts. It hurts to hear it from her.

There is an insane gap between wanting someone and realizing they were never given softness before you. And she… she doesn’t believe that she’s not alone in this anymore.

Mireya is her own executioner somehow, because a flame under glass thinks air itself is a threat.

And she has been under glass for too long.

“Everyone loves broken things,” I say quietly. “Even the cliff you like so much… It's just a broken mountain. That’s what it is. And still you stand there and call it beautiful.”

“But cliffs are still lonely too,” she replies after a moment, almost like she’s correcting me without really disagreeing. “They just stay where everyone can see them to not feel that way anymore.”

“And how are you feeling now?” I ask quietly.

She hesitates, then her gaze finds me. “When I’m up here, I don’t feel sad anymore. Remember the story about the ashes?” I nod and a smile returns on her face before she adds, “If we’re all made of stardust, why would we be scared to go as high as the stars? They’re a part of us.”

She leans back, staring at that impossible blue. I can see it clearly. Her body is here. Her mind is somewhere else. And my hand on hers is the only thing that is still linking me to her.

“And if I go as high as the stars with you?” I ask.

“Then you better finally kiss me.”

She smiles like she expects me to laugh, I look at her mouth instead. There are a million reasons not to cross the line, I know every single one of them, but not one matters at that moment.

My fingers find her cheek, brushing there softly as I murmur, “The stars would be our only witnesses.”

“A secret,” she whispers

“A secret…” I repeat. Her breath catches as my forehead grazes hers first, then my nose, and I finally exhale, “Fuck it.”

My lips found hers, and when they met, I forgot how to be careful. Nothing prepared me for the reality of her. The warmth of her lips, the way she melted into it, the way my body gave up the moment she allowed me to taste her.

My hand tightened around her neck, pulling her closer.

The feeling of having her against me, her heartbeat against my chest, the softness and hungriness in her hands, everything disoriented me.

For the first time in so long, I stopped thinking. I expected wanting her would be a mistake, I didn’t expect it to feel like coming home.

Her lips parted beneath mine, inviting me deeper, and the small whimper leaving her nearly shattered the last piece of restraint I had. When we finally pulled a part to breathe, neither of us moved far. My forehead pressed on hers, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

“This is a good memory. Don’t forget it,” I whisper and her smile widens.

“A good memory,” she repeats softly, flushed and mostly… smiling.

76

Mireya

Play - Heartburn by Wafia

Same place

For the past few weeks I’ve been clean. No drugs, no alcohol, nothing.

I’ve been stone cold sober. My routine has settled down, training comes first, then everything else after. Classes, moments with Hayzel and Blue. Ethan asking me to study with him before the final exams. The rhythm of my life here at St. Ellesta is familiar enough that I don’t question my place here anymore.

Only sometimes, in the pauses between movements, my mind slips for a fraction of a second and lands somewhere I never stay long enough to understand. It’s strange how the same mind that learned how to forget, still aches to remember.