Her mind was no longer her own.
Part IV
Awakening
20
OLIVIER
Olivier was finding it increasingly difficult to pretend he wasn’t going mad.
The previous night had been filled with yet another strange vignette of hazy dreams and warped memories. He could remember standing at the edge of a cliff. His feet firmly planted on damp ground. Behind him, a few yards away, were his parents. But their faces were muddled and wrong. First their eyes disappeared, and then their noses, then their mouths. Until the only things staring back at Olivier were two faceless figures, arms extended, reaching out for him with hungry hands.
He’d woken up drenched in his own sweat, chest heaving, unable to shake the terrible feeling that he’d forgotten something.
It had been like that for weeks. That constant back-of-the-minditch. The foggy outline of something he was supposed to remember, but couldn’t. He couldn’t remember the name of the town he’d grown up in. He couldn’t remember the name of his favorite horse, though he could recall its chestnut-brown mane and how the rough hair had felt against his fingers. What terrified him most was knowing there were probably dozens of other details he’d forgotten and didn’t even realize. How much longer until his parents vanished along with them? How much longer until he couldn’t even remember his own name?
Olivier shivered and wrapped his arms protectively across his chest.
He supposed the terror of the Forgetting did haveoneperk. It was a great distraction from the hours upon hours of monotonous hiking they’d been doing since they’d woken up earlier that morning.
Based on the newer map they’d uncovered, Catherine swore the next clue wasn’t far, but Olivier was beginning to worry that she wasn’t being entirely truthful. They’d been walking east for hours, inching closer and closer to Blackwood’s perimeter, which didn’t help quell the nervous flutter building in his chest. Olivier’s feet hurt and the air had grown brittle and biting—a cold wind nipping at his nose. It had even begun to snow, tiny, powdery flakes cascading down from the sky, dotting the group in speckles of white.
But perhaps if Olivier hadn’t been so preoccupied with the deterioration of his own mind and his aching limbs, he might have noticed that Emilio had been staring at him for the better part of an hour, teeth nervously worrying at his bottom lip. He might have noticed the other boy’s mouth opening and closing, as though he was attempting to convince himself to say something. But, as luck would have it, Olivierhadn’tnoticed. So when Emilio did finally manage to pluck up the courage to speak, Olivier nearly face-planted onto the ground from the sheer shock of hearing those five words uttered out loud.
“Why haven’t you kissed me?”
Olivier froze midstride. He blinked, swiveling to face Emilio, who appeared just as shocked as Olivier felt.Did he mean to say that out loud?The rest of the crew continued forward, completely oblivious to what was happening behind them, and slipped deeper into the forest.
A gentle breeze ruffled the leaves on the crooked branches surrounding them, a light whistle breaking through the silence.
Speak, Olivier berated himself silently.For the love of God—
“I’m sorry,” Emilio blurted out before Olivier could get a word in. “I just—I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just…I’ve been thinking about it since we left the manor.” He shook his head. “No. That’s a lie. I’ve been thinking about it sincebeforethat. I’ve been thinking about it since the first time I saw you, if I’m being completely honest.”
“Emilio.”
“I know what you’re going to say,” the other boy muttered, fussing with a loose thread on his sweater, wrapping it around his finger until the tip turned purple. “The timing is terrible. I know that. I—I didn’t expect for this…forus…to be a priority right now. We have the balance of the afterlife to worry about. I just thought…I thought maybe by now—”
“Emilio.”
The boy’s mouth clamped shut. He stared at Olivier, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “What is it?”
Olivier stared at him…and stared. This was it. This wasthemoment. And yet, despite Olivier’s normally unwavering confidence, he found himself unable to move, standing in place like a complete and total idiot. What was he waiting for? What was he so scared of?You know what you’re scared of, whispered a voice in the back of Olivier’s mind. Because what was the point of finally closing the distance between them if they’d only be forced apart in a few short days? What was the point of allowing himself the tiniest glimmer of hope, only to have it ripped away from him? Emilio was already going to be crushed when he learned that Olivier’s memories were fading more rapidly, and that he maybe only had a few days left with his sanity still intact. Why causeEmilio more pain? Why should they make things harder for themselves?Why—
Olivier groaned.
“Fuck it.”
And then Olivier grabbed Emilio by the collar and pressed their lips together.
Olivier’s mind went utterly, pathetically blank. The entirety of his being was consumed by Emilio, by the feeling of his hands roaming his back, the soft warmth of his breath, the delicate brush of his lips. Emilio sighed against Olivier’s mouth and it was enough to leave Olivier breathless, knees buckling as he fought to keep the two of them standing. How had he managed to wait so long to do this? Kissing Emilio felt like the most perfect thing,the most natural thing, in Olivier’s entire existence. He never wanted it to end. He wanted to exist like this, suspended in this moment, forever.
Let this be my eternity, Olivier prayed.
They parted slowly, reluctantly, their lips remaining inches apart. Emilio’s cheeks were even more flushed than usual, his mouth curled into a grin of disbelief. They were both slightly out of breath, chests rising and falling rapidly as they struggled to steady their breathing.
“I’m sorry,” Olivier whispered, flushing.
