As I waited in my room, I felt a mix of anticipation and dread. I knew she would come, just as I knew the toll her reckless nature would take on her body. The soft creak of the window broke the silence, and there she was—Verena. I had expected her, but nothing could prepare me for the sight of her.
The moonlight spilt into the room, illuminating her in a silvery glow that highlighted her features. My breath caught as I took in the transformation; her hair shimmered like moonlight, and her eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. But then, just as quickly, that beauty was marred as she staggered to the basin and vomited blood.
"Lia!" I rushed to her side, my heart racing at the sight of her suffering. The sight was thick with worry; I had foreseen this, but my attempts to dissuade her were futile. She was steadfast, as always.
After a moment, she straightened, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, the metallic tang of blood staining her porcelain skin. The moonlight danced around her, revealing her true form in stark relief. It had been far too long since I had witnessed her like this. I felt drawn to her, a moth entranced by a flame, knowing the path ahead could lead only to pain.
"Sit," I commanded gently, guiding her to the edge of my bed. My fingers brushed against her skin as I instinctively reached for her, catching the blood stains on my shirt. "You are a mess, Lia," I murmured, attempting to lighten the heavy air, though the gravity of the moment hung palpably between us.
Her gaze met mine, her expression inscrutable. I searched her luminous eyes for any sign of the bond I felt, yet all I found was unwavering determination. My heart raced as she sat there—beautiful and untouchable, like a work of art I could only admire from afar.
"Why do you push yourself to this extent?" I asked, my voice scarcely above a whisper. The tension in the air was thick, a magnetism that beckoned me closer.
"Because I can," she replied, her tone cool and dismissive. "And because I will."
With those words, she leaned back, seemingly unbothered by the intensity of our shared moment. I found myself entranced, captivated not merely by her beauty but by her fierce spirit. How could one so diminutive harbor such ambition, such pride?
She shrugged off the weight of our shared moment, and I struggled to regain my composure. "You cannot save everyone, Lucian," she stated matter-of-factly, the familiar chill in her voice reminding me of the distance she maintained. "Not even me."
As she leaned against the bed, I sensed a shift between us. The delicate thread of our friendship, taut and ready to snap, lingered in the air. I longed to draw her closer, to bridge the chasm of her guardedness, but I knew better than to press.
In that moment, I stood as both her ally and her admirer, tethered to her stubbornness yet mesmerized by the light she cast into the darkness.
She was my Lia, and I would stand by her, even if it meant watching her walk a path of destruction.