37. Ophelia
The last face I see is Silas’s. The last sound I hear is his. Even the cold doesn’t bother me more than a few moments, not after the tearing, searing pain. But that physical agony, it’s nothing to what I feel when I see Silas’s face. When I hear him say my name over and over again. Because I know what it means.
He’s always rescuing me.
He rescued me in this very pool once a long time ago. The night I fell in love with him.
He would die for me.
I would die for him, too.
Did he know that before? Does he know it now?
I wish I could say it. I wish I could look into his eyes just one more time. Feel his arms around me. Feel the safety of his embrace. That is the agony, that I cannot. That all I can do is watch from above, removed, my body lying still on those blood-stained stones, him trying to make me breathe. Him screaming for me to breathe. His tears falling on my face too late to warm me. Too late.