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But I had first-hand experience.
So many times, I dreamed of drowning.
So many nights, I begged to die.
If I had been braver, I would’ve walked into the sea and let it take me, if only to escape the soul-crushing guilt that I’d done nothing to save my family.
The family that’d died because of me.
But I hadn’t been brave.
I hadn’t returned to the source of my agony, so that agony kept on fucking oozing.
But Neri...
I could take her back to that source.
I could throw her back into those nightmares and give her a different ending.
Nausea rushed up my throat as I breathed, “You should’ve come to me, hayatim.” The alcohol in my system grew more potent. I felt loose and petrified but also fierce and resolved.
“I tried.” Her wet eyes met mine. “You said—”
“If you told me you needed pain, I would’ve given you pain.”
She frowned through her tears. “No, you wouldn’t. You would never hurt me.”
I shifted a single step into her, pressing her against the door with sheer force of presence, even though no part of me touched her. “Are you so sure about that?”
I shouldn’t do this here.
I should take her back to my room where at least we had a few walls and the garden between us and her parents.
But...the alcohol whispered this was wise.
The depression hissed this was necessary.
And the stark fear clawing at my heart made recklessness supersede any and all self-preservation.
I didn’t care about myself.
I only cared about her.
And I’d failed her.
Over and over again.
I won’t fail her now.
Her eyes narrowed, dancing and searching mine. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I know how it feels to be trapped by who you are, trapped by what happened, trapped with no way of getting free.”
“Aslan, I—”
“Tell me what you need, Neri.”
“I just need you. I need you inside me and—”
