// Best YA Romance in the Romance Fiction Awards 2021//
Thrill Hawthorne, keeping up to his name, lives his life on the edge. Or so people think.
Ignatius Rookwood is the darling son and the sole male heir to a gigantic business corporation. Or so...
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"You're going to have to eat something."
Ignatius stared out the large window in front of him, ignoring the woman standing beside him. It was around noon, the sky outside was a bright shade of blue. The spacious room he was in was a guestroom in the woman, Dr. Ra'hor's house; well-lit and soberly decorated. Ignatius sat on a double-bed, a mountain of pillows propping him up.
"Ignatius," Dr. Ra'hor said, gently, kindly. "Please."
"I'm not hungry." I'm dead.
"You haven't had anything the whole day. And especially with your injuries you'll need your strength."
For what? The doctor patched up his nose, gave him some meds so most of the physical pain had subsided. But the searing cold fear remained – it was like, each beat of his heart was hurting him. He wanted it to stop. He was barely able to keep his mind from running amok – thinking about what his mother will do to him only left him with a suffocation he did not know how to deal with, so he focused on the anger that he felt towards Thrill, and more than that, towards himself.
How could he be so stupid?
He wanted to die.
Dr. Ra'hor sighed on not getting any response. She kept the bowl of soup on the nightstand and sat on the bed. "Is there someone I can call to help you? A friend, a cousin?"
Hilarious. After what he did, he had no friends or cousins left. They will sneer at him, call him names, and drag him to his mother, who will then–
Ignatius let out a sigh, his heart trembling. "D-Do you have a sleeping pill or something? Something to knock me out? I don't... I don't want to deal with this right now."
Dr. Ra'hor smiled. "It won't help, Ignatius. You can't sleep forever. I know how difficult it must be, what you're going through, but –"
"But what?" Ignatius interrupted. "There's no upside to this. My life is over. It's over. I–" He broke off, suddenly unable to suck in air.
"Hey, hey, hey... it's okay! Just breathe, it's okay."
"I can't–" Ignatius wasn't sure if he was crying or dying; he hoped it was the latter.
Dr. Ra'hor rose to her feet, picked up a small tablet and a glass of water from the table, and walked back to Ignatius. He took it from her without question and gulped it down. "Will this knock me out?" he asked, trying but failing to not sound hopeful.
"No, but you'll feel better."
He did not believe her, but soon, his heartbeat was no longer thundering like it was seeking an escape and he was able to breathe a little better. The fear remained though; Ignatius had a feeling it will never leave.
