The past week has been brutal. I can't say I've lost my mind, but it feels like I'm teetering on the fine line between reality and nightmare. Panic clings to me, an unwelcome shadow. I constantly feel watched, and in my darkest moments, I could swear something sinister is just out of sight, waiting.
I'm standing behind the counter, silently praying that no customers show up for a while. I feel exhausted and disconnected.
My thoughts have been spiraling—not just about demons or revenge, but about Cody too. Today, I've been avoiding him like the plague, overwhelmed by a relentless wave of hopelessness that refuses to let go.
Do I actually have feelings for him? The thought is almost laughable. It doesn't bother me that I might have feelings for a guy, but everything else about it does. Especially the fact that it's Cody.
Summer is nearly over, and he's been with us for quite a while now. It's no surprise that we've all grown attached to him. Even Arthur has softened—he genuinely enjoys talking and joking with Cody now. I feel the same way. That's all it is—we're just friends.
Or are we? Thinking about friends has never made my heart race like this. Not with Elle, not with Arthur, not with Kaja. But then again, Cody is still relatively new in my life, and maybe that's why I'm reacting this way.
I try to convince myself, but deep down, I know it's a lie. I've also realized something else. No matter how I feel, the truth doesn't change. He's just an ordinary person. Someone who might return to a normal life when all this is over.
He probably will. One day, when things settle, he'll leave the bookstore, and I'll never see him again. Maybe, if Bardo doesn't erase his memories, we'd exchange polite nods if we crossed paths. But even that feels unlikely. And in the end, it doesn't really matter.
There's no room for feelings like this, no space for dreams I can't afford. I have nothing to offer him—not even my own life. Our worlds are mismatched pieces, fragments that could never align. It won't work, so I've decided not to take even a single step toward him.
The thoughts gnaw at me all day, relentless and suffocating. I don't know how much more I can take. The second I see Arthur in the hall, I rip off my apron and slip out from behind the counter.
"Taking a break," I mumble, not waiting for his response before walking away.
I head straight to the basement, needing to escape the chaos in my mind. Training is my only refuge. The one thing that brings a sense of control, and control is something I'm painfully short on these days.
I settle into my usual spot, shrugging off my hoodie and preparing. My eyes flick to the cut on my palm. The wound that hasn't had the chance to heal. It doesn't look great, but I haven't found another way to summon that damned fire. No matter what I try, it only answers to my blood.
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, steadying myself. A tingling warmth stirs beneath my skin, and the fire flickers to life. I snap my injured hand forward, scattering droplets of blood into the air. Blue sparks trail behind them. When the blood lands on the ground, the flames latch onto it, smoldering stubbornly.
Curious, I crouch closer, watching the fire curl around the crimson droplets as if feeding from them. The flickering light holds me in a trance. For a moment, it's just me and the flames. Then, something else catches my attention. A sound of soft shuffle of footsteps, paired with the faintest breathing. My muscles tense.
I spring to my feet, spinning toward the noise. My gaze searches the gloom, catching only shadows at first. Then, a figure steps forward, moving into the narrow beam of light spilling through a dusty window. My stomach knots as a chill shoots down my spine.
About ten steps away stands Leo, just as I remember him from the night I let him go. Neatly dressed in his suit, hair slicked back—yet somehow different. His gaze pierces through me, colder and more lethal than I've ever seen, as if he could kill me and casually snack on a bag of chips right after.
A wave of fear crashes over me, drowning out even the anger I once harbored for him. My limbs feel like they're shackled, my body frozen in place. I want to lunge at him, to fight, but my insides knot themselves tighter with every passing second, leaving me helpless.
He notices it. His lips curl into a grin so twisted it etches itself into my mind, a haunting memory I know I'd carry to the grave. There's no hesitation in his movements. He bolts toward me. My mind shatters into static.
Before I can react, his icy fingers close around my neck. The world tilts as I'm slammed to the ground, his weight pinning me down. He straddles me, his grip tightening. I thrash against him, clawing and struggling, but every movement drives his nails deeper into my skin.
Breathing becomes impossible and my lungs scream for air. Our strength is unmatched, and I doubt I stand a chance. Desperation fuels my resistance until darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision. My body trembles as my strength fails, my eyes squeezing shut tightly.
But then, the pressure eases. His hands slip away. I suddenly hear myself screaming. When I open my eyes, the world is a distorted blur, spinning and surreal. It takes a moment to process that none of it was real. Just a hallucination—a horrifying trick of my mind.
My heart pounds violently as my body trembles, still sprawled on the cold floor. A wave of nausea rises, but all I can do is gag, suffocated by the dread and lack of air. Tears stream uncontrollably down my flushed, burning skin, but I barely register them. Faintly, I hear the sound of footsteps descending the stairs, yet I can't muster the strength to turn and look.