Not yet.
Not like that.
I want to smother her in the memories. I want her to feel the pull again. And when she does? Then maybe she'd finally fucking understand what she took from me. I'd finally see her suffer, and hopefully, I won't drown right alongside her. Because I'm remembering, too. I'm realizing that I never actually fucking forgot.
I can still see her wearing that hoodie, all those years ago. Standing in my room, stealing it off my chair, grinning as she pulled it over her head, the sleeves swallowing her hands.
Is that why I kept it all this time?
Fuck.
Adora
I can’t sleep. Not because I’m cold or because I’m locked in a dungeon and my situation is pretty fucking dire, but because of the hoodie sitting in my lap. It's just fabric. Just an old, worn-out piece of clothing that carries memories of lost dreams.
I curl my hands into it, gripping it so tightly my knuckles ache. I wish it were meaningless, but this piece of fabric used to bring me so much joy.
This isn't just another one of Ghost's games. It's something I don't know how to fight.
If I were strong enough, I would have thrown it on the ground. Kicked it across the cell, torn it apart with my teeth, my bare hands. But I’m not that strong. And even though I know what he’s doing, even though I can see the strings, feel the walls closing in, hear the whispers of the past calling my name, I still pull it over my head.
The lock clicks.That sound. That fucking sound is going to drive me nuts.
I clench my jaw. At this point, I'll be grinding all my teeth into dust in no time.
I feel him hesitate and I know that I’ve surprised him, wearing his hoodie.
He takes another step closer. Slow. Careful. Like he's looking at something he doesn't recognize.
I swallow, forcing myself to meet his gaze head-on.
His eyes are unreadable. But his hands tell me everything I need to know. His fingers are flexing, curling and uncurling at his sides.
I smirk, breaking the suffocating tension. "Something wrong, Ghost?"
His jaw ticks. Then he speaks, his voice quiet, dangerous, "You wore it."
I force a scoff, rolling my eyes. "You gave it to me. What did you expect me to do? Throw it in the bucket in the corner?"
A shadow of a smile touches his mouth as his eyes rake over me. "Would've been on brand for you."
"Oh, just fuck off." My voice is soft and there's no heat behind my words.
We’re playing with fire, aren’t we? And the flames are already too high.
Ghost
Fuck. This isn’t good.
I wantedherto fall into the past. Not dragmedown with her.
I roll my shoulders, schooling my features, burying the messy tangle of my feelings beneath a smirk.
"You always liked stealing my shit."
Her gaze flickers. "What can I say? Your hoodies were the only good thing about you."
I chuckle. "Liar."
