Chapter 75
Damien
Play - Cornflower Blue by Flower Face
Forever secret
Little miss sad eyes scared me a few days ago.
My mind has been replaying the moment I found her alone and on the floor in her dorm, with guilt falling down her cheeks as if she was her own worst enemy.
Filled with desperation, filled with sorrow and regrets.
Addiction ruins people in the most devastating way possible.
It tears apart every happy moment or memory until you’re nothing but this empty vessel.
I’ve witnessed it growing up. And for a long time I tried to understand how strong you have to be to fight it.
My mother didn’t win that battle. And it terrifies me to see Mireya in that state.
She looked lonely, so sad, and I hated it.
I felt the cuts of her thighs beneath my palm since that day. I can still feel them.
Bleeding just to remind yourself that you’re still there. And I don’t want her to bleed again. I want her to look at me and focus on me, in a selfishly possessive way, to remember that she’s here without having to hurt herself to prove it.
My mind kept thinking of how I could change that. I don’t think she understands how often I look at her and mourn all the happiness she was denied. But she’s not sad at this moment.
Here, in between the stars, her ocean blue eyes are bright, alive…
“You’re smiling,” I say, as I watch her softly.
“You took me to see the stars…” Her gaze meets mine, and I lose myself even more in this stormy sky in front of me. It’s strange how easily my mind settles on her, as if it recognized her soul long before I even met her. As if, somewhere along the way, she became worth every impossible thing.
“I know you like high places.”
“Do you know why?” she asks.
I shake my head, inviting her to explain it to me. “Tell me.”
She stares at the sky, remembering loudly enough for me to hear the nostalgia of her thoughts before even speaking.
“When I was younger… I used to be really sad. One day I asked the sky if it was still angry at me for feeling that way, for not drawing it anymore. Then it rained. The sky… felt as sad as I was. I always thought my mom was crying up there, for me, for all the things I lost and she had to say goodbye to. And even when I try my best, sometimes trying isn’t enough. ”
Her voice was broken. I can’t figure out how to help, how to make the sky happier so that she would stop feeling guilty of whatever happened. Because the saddest thing about her was how convinced she was that she should hurt alone.
I tighten my grip on her hand slightly. “You’re not failing at anything. You’re a good person, Mireya.”
“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.