My body registers it first, then my brain.
His chest presses heavier against mine, his head dropping forward, his breath shuddering. Panic slams into me all at once.
I try to move my arms, but I can’t. He’s too heavy. He’s too fucking heavy. Please don’t do this. Please.
He lifts his head just enough to look at me. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth, red and dark like poison.
Something in me howls, clawing at my insides.
The ringing in my ears swells until it silences everything else — the sound of bikes, footsteps, the world itself.
I can see his lips try to move as he keeps his eyes locked on mine, desperate to say something. But nothing comes out. Nothing comes out.
He tries again, and still nothing. Nothing.
36. Music
Adora
The world around me should look different. I should look different. The fact that everything seems to be the same, feels like an insult right now.
My thoughts drift like loose papers, never settling long enough to be read. Every so often something flickers at the edge of my awareness. Gunfire, glass, weight. A pair of dark, heated eyes. The memory sits somewhere behind my eyes, pulsing softly, like a bruise I don’t dare touch. But my mind slides away from it all, refusing to engage.
This is safer. There’s not enough space inside me to make room for anything else except the numbness.
Flashes of red, too much of it, throw themselves at me, but disappear just as fast.
My hands are in my lap, looking innocent and clean, but that feels wrong. There's a small stain under one of my nails, too red and out of place, that seems to agree with me. I stare at it until the sides of my vision blur, until everything else recedes, like I could fall into that tiny speck and disappear within.
Firm hands grip my shoulders, shaking me hard enough that my teeth click.
“Adora.”
The voice pierces through the fog like a bright light.
“Adora — look at me.”
The sound of my name drags me back into my body with brutal force. The room snaps into focus, and my heart slams against my ribs, wild and painful.
I suck in a breath so fast, it burns.
Ria is in front of me. Her brows are pinched together, eyes searching mine like she’s afraid she won’t find me there.
“Adora,” she says again, softer now, but with a hint of desperation that sounds wrong coming from her. “I’ve been calling you for minutes now.”
And just like that, the fog breaks. Reality rushes in, and instant tears flood my face, my body shaking with powerful sobs.
She should get far away from me. I’m a curse on everyone, only bringing misery to every life I touch. She never should’ve dragged me out of that river. I miss the waves. They were cold, but they brought me peace.
Ria’s face twists, like she’s in pain. She drops into the chair beside mine and pulls me into a hug, her hand patting my hair softly. It’s strangely comforting, even though I don’t deserve it. I fall apart in her arms, drowning in salty tears as the agony of what happened comes to the surface.
“It’s okay, everything will be okay,” she whispers when I finally settle, and my sobs break down into hiccups.
“I stepped on my phone when I was getting up, and it shattered,” I whisper back, my chest still shaking. “I never unmuted him. There were so many texts. Voicemails. I’ll never know what they said now.” My heart squeezes to the point of bleeding. “There will be no more paper notes.”
Her fingers move through my hair in slow, steady strokes. “You don’t know that. He’s still in surgery. It’s not wrong to have hope.”
“Hope is for fools,” I say, my voice cracking. “Every time I start to hope, things go to shit.”
