"Every step you take away from me only drives you closer to the brink of my madness. You belong to me, Winter. Any alternative reality or illusion you hope for- I will destroy them until your very existence is entwined with mine."
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W I N T E R
"Where are my pills?"
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Fleur yanks my arm, and I spin around to face her, her expression fierce and enraged. Her features are scrunched, marred with a rare worry that she seldom lets show.
"My bags are sealed with digital locks, and there’s only one person I know who could break through it." Her brows somehow furrow tighter. "Where are the pills, Winter?"
I wrench my arm free, rubbing my temples as beads of sweat break along my scalp. Fleur’s over-the-top reaction isn’t something I want to deal with right now. We’re at a wedding, the vows are said, a mismatched couple is now bound, and laughter and music bounce off the high ceiling, making everything—and everyone—seem small and insignificant. Just like Fleur's impromptu interrogation.
"I couldn’t sleep last night," I mutter. "I just borrowed one." My eyes dart around, searching for a bar or any drink station that might flood my system with something stronger than words.
I’m eighteen. Unlike in the States, I’m of legal age to drink here.
A rough shove sends me stumbling into a corner behind a decorative tree.
"Don’t give me that bullshit," Fleur snaps, her voice grinding. "You could’ve asked me, but you stole them instead. You know those aren’t normal pills, Winters. How many did you take?"
I exhale, emptying my lungs out.
"Just one."
"I can count them."
"Two fell on the floor, and I wasn’t able to find—"
"What happened? I watched you after patrol last night—you’ve been on edge ever since. What’s going on?" Fleur pries, her gaze relentless. I look away from her oddly concerned stare, focusing instead on my reflection in a glass adorned with flowing waters, carnations, and red roses. Somehow, I don’t resemble the wreck I feel inside. Ivy’s stylists did a tremendous job concealing my stress lines under layers of foundation, and the maroon gown I’m wearing distracts from the weird fluidity in my limbs.
It’s like my body is a heavy stone sinking in water.
But for once, I don’t mind.
I don’t care.
In fact, I almost want to sink, to reach a depth where the endless abyss welcomes me with open arms. A place where my mind, heart, body, and soul don’t have to fight for existence. Maybe, just maybe, a switch to silence my thoughts isn’t such a terrible idea. A switch that comes in the form of a tiny pill, working wonders.
I tried it for the first time last night after years of resisting, deluding myself that I was strong enough to handle everything.
