Chapter 10 #4
“I... I... I was trying to get the key to open the spare clothes locker,” I stammered, tremors shaking me violently. This would be the worst time to have a crisis.
“What happened to your clothes?” he asked, trying to control his tone. His hands were clenched into fists, his eyes remained tightly shut, and from what I could see, his breathing wasn’t any better than mine.
“Someone took them... I... When I came out of the shower, my towel was gone.”
My heart beat frantically, and the knots in my throat tightened so much I didn’t know whether to vomit or cry. It was a panic attack—I recognized the symptoms. Zion opened his eyes, probably hearing my heart and my labored breathing.
“What’s happening?” he asked, still not looking at me, but some stray shadows shot from his arms, as if they wanted to touch me. Another tremor shook me violently, and I felt I needed to sit down or I’d collapse.
“No-nothing.”
I inhaled, trying to calm myself, but the situation only got worse.
The blood drained from my face, and I felt my body turning as cold as ice.
Zion turned to me, and I dared to meet his gaze as he assessed me in astonishment.
Yes, there was surprise and horror in his eyes—the scene before him must have been deplorable, because he disappeared into the wall’s shadow.
I sat on the floor, curling into a fetal position, grateful he had left.
Now I could agonize in peace until the episode passed.
But seconds later, he materialized at my side with a blanket.
I looked at him, surprised and shocked, as he wrapped the blanket firmly around me and lifted me as if I weighed nothing, holding my body tight against his chest. Zion entered the wall’s shadow, and I felt the darkness covering me.
I blinked, and we passed through a tree’s shadow.
When I opened my eyes again, we were in my room.
He placed me on the bed, which made me tremble even more from the sudden absence of his warmth.
“Tell me what I can do to help,” he pleaded, anguish in his voice.
The feelings caught me by surprise, and I was startled to feel his distress.
I was confused to actually be feeling what he felt, and in the midst of that confusion, I noticed something in a forgotten corner of my mind—something bright that seemed to vibrate.
It was a path that had long been neglected. The compatibility bond.
“No-nothing,” I whispered, barely able to breathe. “Ju-just leave me.”
My body curled up even more, as if trying to disappear from his sight, but there was nowhere to hide, and his gaze kept me lucid enough to fight the hallucinations.
Soon, he slid to the floor beside the bed, gently, as if expecting me to push him away.
I didn’t have the strength for that, and it became clear I wouldn’t when I closed my eyes, fighting another tremor.
I felt Zion move, and his hand slid around mine, intertwining our fingers.
The touch burned like before, but this time it was a calming burn.
“Just breathe. I’ll stay right here,” he said, and somehow, I knew it was true, because a feeling of fierce protection came from the bond.
A bond. I felt like crying when I sensed it at the back of my mind.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I liked the connection.
It was stupid and emotionally weak on my part, but I liked knowing that, somehow, I wasn’t alone.
I contemplated that new discovery and, minutes later, opened my eyes, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm my racing heart.
The warmth slowly returned to my limbs; it no longer felt like someone was crushing my lungs, but the shame of being caught naked was still overwhelming.
Zion continued to stare at the night outside, and I thought about what to say.
I knew no words would help much. Still, I tried:
“I’m sorry,” I whispered in the dark, fighting back tears that insisted on falling. That day had been too much for my nerves. He squeezed my hand a little tighter.
“You don't need to say anything,” Zion reassured me, gazing at the city glittering with golden lights through the glass wall. I looked down at our hands, still intertwined.
“I... didn't mean to. The scent... I wasn't in control. And the bond... I didn't know it could be like that.”
Zion turned to me, and I looked at the ceiling, unable to face him.
“Don't be ashamed of what happened, Kyller.
There's nothing shameful about it—it probably would have happened sooner or later.” I refused to look at him, my cheeks burning with shame despite his words.
“I know it's not your fault. We're not to blame for what's happening. Sometimes the bond is just irrational.”
I closed my eyes and snuggled even closer to him. Would it be wrong to want to steal a little of his warmth?
“Kyller?” Zion called out in the darkness.
“Yes?” My eyes were so heavy. After a panic attack, it was normal to feel exhausted and sleepy—the adrenaline rush always drained my energy.
“I saw in your memories what they said to you this afternoon. I know they want to hurt you. Can you tell me why you don't do anything about it?”
I thought for a moment about what to say. Did I trust him enough to open up? I decided to be honest—he had just seen me naked, and few things could be more embarrassing than that.
“I don't know. Ask a rescued stray dog why he buries some of his bones when you give them to him. If he could talk, he'd probably say it's because he spent his whole life hiding bones, afraid of starving. I spent so long not fighting back that maybe my brain doesn't understand I should do it now.”
“I understand.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“You're not in the forests anymore—you're with me, Kyller.
It's time to start fighting back, because if you don't do anything, they'll keep at it forever.
And it's holding back your social life here.
You might be missing the chance to make friends because you're afraid to try.” Zion rested his head on the bed too, and our hair mingled.
“I already have friends. I don't care about that,” I murmured, twirling a strand of my hair that had gotten tangled with his. My fingers barely responded, heavy with exhaustion.
“I know, but think about it a little more.” I noticed his voice was growing drowsy too. “It's hard to reprogram some habits, but I'm here to help you. And... Kyller?”
“Hmm?”
“They're wrong. Inside these walls is exactly where you should be. Don't let them tell you otherwise.”
Bipolar—that would definitely be Zion's diagnosis!
My eyes began to grow heavy, but I murmured a barely recognizable “thank you.” Exhaustion was winning the battle, and inevitably, I slipped into a deep, liberating sleep.
In the back of my mind, I thought I heard something—not a voice, but a thought.
“If I could, I'd kill every one of the bastards who did this to you, but I can't kill what's already dead.”
Then I fell asleep, holding that hand that could contain all the strength and violence in the world. My senses told me I was safe, that I didn't need to worry, and I found myself surprised to believe it.
At least for tonight.