Chapter Four — Black Veins
Avery didn’t sleep that night.
Not properly.
She sat curled beside the cracked window of her apartment while rain crawled endlessly
down the glass outside, watching Poison City flicker green beneath the storm.
Vinny’s flower rested on the table beside her bed.
Belladonna.
Still alive somehow despite being half-crushed during the walk home.
Just like him.
The thought made her chest hurt.
Avery pulled her gloves tighter before reaching for the black leather bag resting beside her
chair. The familiar worn texture steadied her immediately.
Careful movements.
Practiced movements.
She unbuckled the flap and removed the journal.
The cover had once been dark velvet before years of handling wore it smooth in patches.
Threadbare corners. Water damage. Faint stains from hands that trembled too often while
writing.
Inside, the pages smelled faintly of ink and dried flowers.
Death preserved carefully.
Avery turned pages slowly.
Names.
Dates.
Fragments.
Tiny remnants of people the world no longer remembered.
Mara — smelled like oranges.
Derrick laughed through bloody teeth to stop his daughter crying.
Lina liked yellow birds.
Every page carried something.
Because Avery couldn’t survive turning them into numbers.
People already looked at her like a body count.
She refused to do the same.
Her fingers paused near the back.
Blank pages still remained.
Too many.
The thought hollowed her out every time.
A sharp cough echoed suddenly through her memory.
Blood across Vinny’s hand.
Avery closed the journal hard enough to wrinkle paper.
No.
No.
Her breathing grew uneven instantly.
She stood too fast from the chair and crossed toward the sink in the tiny kitchenette,
gripping the rusted metal edge until her knuckles ached beneath the gloves.
He was getting worse.
Faster now.
And she knew why.
Even if Vinny refused to say it aloud.
Avery stared at herself in the cracked mirror hanging above the sink.
Pale skin.
Dark shadows beneath tired gray-green eyes.
Black hair falling loose around her face.
And beneath the collar of her oversized sweater—
faint blackened veins disappearing beneath skin near her collarbone.
Visible tonight.
That was bad.
Usually they only surfaced after direct exposure spikes, or emotional distress, or when her
tablet supply dropped below a certain point and she had less to push against. Tonight it
was all three at once — grief, low supply, the faint persistent burn in her chest from the
hours since her last dose. The tablets kept something in her quieter than it would
otherwise be. Without them, whatever lived under her skin started paying attention.
Started looking for a way up.
Avery touched the mark lightly through fabric.
Poison living beneath skin.
Waiting.
The city called people like her contaminated.
Biohazards.
Defectives.
Monsters.
But Avery knew the truth.
Poison wasn’t something she carried.
It was something she was.
The realization still made her sick sometimes.
A hard knock sounded suddenly at the apartment door.
Avery froze.
Nobody visited her.
Nobody except—
Another knock.
Three short taps.
Vinny.
Relief hit too fast.
Avery crossed the apartment carefully and unlocked the door only halfway.
Vinny leaned heavily against the frame outside.
Rain soaked completely through his dark clothes now, curls damp against his forehead,
chest rising slightly too fast beneath his coat.
And there—
blood again.
This time at the corner of his mouth.
Avery’s stomach dropped.
“Vinny.”
“I know,” he said immediately. “You’re about to look terrifyingly concerned.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Still prettier than most people in this building.”
“That joke is getting less funny.”
“It’s getting funnier to me.”
Another cough interrupted him violently.
Vinny turned sharply away this time, one hand bracing against the wall outside the
apartment while blood spotted across the concrete beneath him.
Too much blood.
Far too much.
Fear surged through Avery so hard it almost became anger.
“You need a doctor.”
“No.”
“You could die.”
“Eventually, yes.”
“Vinny.”
His expression shifted slightly then.
Softer.
Tired.
For the first time all night he looked less like the untouchable Moretti heir and more like a
twenty-something man running out of strength.
“I just wanted to see you again,” he admitted quietly.
The words hit harder than they should have.
Avery hated that.
Hated how easily he could dismantle her anger just by sounding honest.
Rainwater dripped steadily from the fire escape overhead between them.
Vinny finally looked back at her fully.
His pupils looked slightly blown now.
Skin warmer than before.
Breathing shallow.
Symptoms.
Her poison.
God.
“How much?” Avery whispered.
He knew what she meant immediately.
“How much exposure tonight?”
Vinny hesitated.
Wrong answer already.
“Vinny.”
“Not enough to kill me.”
“That isn’t reassuring anymore.”
A slow smile touched his mouth despite the blood.
“It should be.”
“It isn’t.”
Silence stretched.
Then Avery noticed it.
Tiny dark lines beneath the skin near his wrist where his sleeve had shifted upward.
Black veins.
Not hers.
Smaller.
Fainter.
But there.
Her heart stopped.
“Vinny…”
Too late.
He saw where she was looking.
Instinctively, he pulled the sleeve down.
But Avery had already seen enough.
The poison was spreading deeper now.
Vinny stayed anyway.
Despite the blood.
Despite the shaking hidden poorly beneath his calm expression.
Despite Avery standing three feet away from him like distance alone could undo what was
already happening inside his body.
The apartment felt too small with him in it.
Too warm.
Rain tapped softly against cracked windows while old ventilation pipes rattled somewhere
behind the walls. Avery’s single overhead light flickered green every few seconds, washing
the room in poisonous color before fading dim again.
Vinny sat on the edge of her couch like he belonged there.
Maybe he did.
That realization unsettled her more than the blood.
“You’re staring again,” he murmured.
“You’re dying again.”
“Ah.” He leaned back slightly against the cushions. “There’s the romance.”
Avery crossed her arms tighter.
“You think everything’s funny.”
“No.” His eyes lifted to hers. “Just the things that scare me.”
The answer landed wrong inside her chest.
Too honest.
Vinny scrubbed a hand tiredly down his face before reaching into the inside pocket of his
coat.
“Forgetting something,” he muttered.
Avery frowned slightly as he pulled free a small bundle wrapped carefully in dark cloth.
“Vinny.”
“I know, I know.” He smiled faintly. “I’m very dramatic.”
“You’re bleeding on my furniture.”
“And still bringing gifts. Incredible boyfriend behavior honestly.”
“You are not my boyfriend.”
“You looked pretty devastated five seconds ago for someone making that argument.”
Heat rose immediately into Avery’s face.
Annoying.
Worse—
Vinny noticed.
His tired grin widened slightly as he held the cloth bundle out toward her.
“Go on.”
Avery hesitated before finally taking it carefully through gloved fingers.
The cloth unfolded slowly in her hands.
Inside rested a cluster of flowers.
Not wilted market flowers.
Real ones.
Dark belladonna blossoms intertwined with pale pink oleander branches, bound together
with thin black ribbon.
Poisonous.
Beautiful.
Expensive.
Avery stared at them speechlessly.
The flowers almost glowed against the dim apartment light.
“You stole those,” she whispered automatically.
Vinny looked offended.
“I acquired them illegally with charm and elegance.”
“You stole them.”
“Semantics.”
Avery carefully touched one dark petal.
Fresh.
Upper district greenhouse fresh.
Which meant filtered air.
Filtered water.
Private cultivation.
Things people in Lower Vein usually died before affording.
“Why?” she asked quietly.
Vinny’s expression softened slightly.
“You looked at the nightshade yesterday like it was the first beautiful thing you’d seen in
months.”
Avery swallowed hard.
Nobody paid attention like this.
Nobody remembered tiny things she never meant to say aloud.
Except him.
Especially him.
“You’re impossible,” she whispered.
“I’m rich. There’s a difference.”
Despite herself, a laugh escaped her.
Small.
Breathless.
Real.
Vinny stared at her like he’d won something.
That look again.
God.
That look was becoming dangerous.
Avery quickly turned away toward the small kitchen counter before he could see too much
on her face.
She searched the cluttered shelves until she found an old cracked glass bottle still half-filled
with clean water. The flowers barely fit inside once she arranged them carefully.
Dark petals against fractured glass.
Poison surviving beautifully.
Like everything else in this city.
“They suit the apartment,” Vinny said softly behind her.
Avery glanced back over her shoulder.
“It’s literally one room.”
“It’s your one room.”
The words shouldn’t have mattered.
But they did.
Because nobody ever said things like that about Avery’s life.
Most people treated her existence like temporary contamination.
Vinny talked about it like it deserved permanence.
Rain thundered harder outside suddenly, shaking the old building slightly.
Vinny coughed again.
This time he failed to hide the pain fast enough afterward.
Avery turned fully toward him immediately.
“You need treatment.”
“No.”
“You could afford it.”
“That isn’t the issue.”
“Then what is?”
Vinny went quiet.
Wrong.
Wrong answer.
Avery watched his expression close carefully behind his eyes again — the same way it
always did whenever conversation drifted too near whatever secret he was hiding.
Fear curled colder inside her stomach.
“Vinny.”
He stood slowly from the couch.
For one awful second he looked unsteady enough that Avery instinctively moved toward
him before stopping herself violently halfway across the room.
The movement froze both of them.
Vinny looked down briefly at the space between them.
Then back at her.
Something vulnerable flickered across his face too fast to fully name.
“You almost touched me,” he said softly.
Avery’s pulse stumbled.
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“Maybe you should stop thinking more often.”
“Vinny.”
“I mean it.”
He stepped closer slowly.
Carefully.
Not enough to corner her.
Not enough to trap her.
Just enough that she could feel warmth again between breaths.
“I know you’re scared,” he murmured.
Avery looked away immediately.
That alone was answer enough.
Vinny’s voice gentled further.
“But I need you to understand something.”
His hand lifted slightly.
Not touching.
Hovering.
A choice.
“If this kills me someday,” he said quietly, “it was still my decision.”
Avery’s throat burned instantly.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes.” His eyes locked onto hers completely now. “I do.”
Silence swallowed the apartment.
Rain.
Ventilation hum.
Distant thunder.
And Vinny standing close enough to ruin her life completely.
“I would choose you anyway,” he whispered.
The words shattered something inside her quietly.
Because the worst part wasn’t believing him.
It was wanting to believe him too.