the chronicle of wasted time

cottage

A scream bursts through the silence of the woods. I look back at the cottage. Damn damn damn damn damn. I quickly pick up my weapons and away myself from the river. I race towards the door. Action inside. Screams. Desperate ones.

I stride through the door and find Aithinne rolling down her bed. I couldn't quicken myself in time to catch her, but when I'm by her side, she still hasn't clear her mind yet. I breathe her name against you lips. Aithinne, Aithinne. Come back to me.

Instead, her grip on my forearm tightens, so hard that I almost yelp out. I try to cup her face inside my palm, but a sudden force from her takes me aback. She pins me on the ground, her fingers around my neck tight as a noose. My lungs fight to gasp for air, but her grip keeps on tightening. Aithinne. I will, Aithinne. The energy in my body slowly comes to a halt, leaving me in this paralysis state. My fingers turn limp, and my legs stop kicking. I try to find her in those green eyes. Aithinne.

Her grip goes stiff. For a moment, her gaze goes blank. Confusion hits her like a truck, and all of a sudden she backs away into the dark corner of the cottage. Finally functioning again, my chest rise heavily up and down in search of oxygen. After a moment, I sit up to face her direction.

I'm sorry. I couldn't hear her, but the words might as well be spelled in the air.

"It's alright." I whisper. "Was it a nightmare? Anything I could do to help?" I press my lips in a thin line, regretting my word of choice the moment I let it out.

"I could've-" Her voice trembling, "I almost..."

"Shhh, you're fine." I move towards her, but as her presence startles, my movement freeze. "You weren't conscious, it's alright."

Now I see those sharp green eyes perfectly clear amid the darkness. It shines like amber towards dust, flickering a dangerous light. Her body shaking in the cold.  My gaze softens. "May I?" I breathe, then take off my jacket to cover it on her. My touch startles her a bit, but she does not speak of it. Nor does she look my way.  I settle myself by her side, back against the wall. Our breaths sound offensively loud in this silence.

"Aithinne," I speak, "I can't take you."

"You're not leaving me alone." She answers sharply. "I can, I can still fight. I know how to -"

"I can't ask you to face him. I'm sorry. Maybe this is a fight meant for me alone."

With that, I rise up and hurry toward the exit. Sorry. I don't  mouth my apology, I don't have to. It's all written in the air.

I'm sorry. I will come back to you. I'm sorry.