The Cinder

Diego {2}

I couldn't explain how much I regretted walking away from her.

It felt like I had let her down somehow.

Her entire life people have left her on her own.

Her parents when they died in a car crash.

Her aunt, who was supposed to be her guardian.

Even her very own dear best friend Arianna.

Then of course, there was my beloved brother Delos.

And now me.

Every day I spent with her, every thought that crossed my mind continued to make me feel like I was the biggest bastard alive.

But last night? No words were enough to describe what I did.

I was just so angry.

Angry that I couldn't spend five minutes with her without reminding her of my brother and his betrayal.

That I couldn't speak with her for two minutes without arguing about the Brooke.

That I couldn't kiss her for even a minute without doubting if it was me she was really kissing or just a shadow of my twin brother.

Never had I ever hated my face, my appearance like this before.

I wanted to smash myself against a mirror or get severe burns that would force me to have a plastic surgery.

Maybe if I looked different it would make things clearer.

About what Rosanne wanted and what she really felt.

Many at times I was tempted to try out this ridiculously reckless idea.

But I didn't want anyone to know that Rosanne held that kind of power over me.

One where I was seconds away from breaking down and going into a phase of self-harming insanity.

No, I refused anyone to see my weakness.

Especially Rosanne herself.

Because come to think of it, why would she even care about me when all she could think of is rescuing Delos? The man who left her.

The man who is also my brother. My very own blood.

And here I was, hating him for a girl. A girl I was deeply infatuated with. Possibly more than infatuated.

I should hate her. Not my brother.

He was out there, trapped God knows where and instead of helping him I was sulking like a child.

Hating Rose... yeah like that was so easy.

I could never hate her.

Not even if she pulls the trigger to kill me.

This girl had sunk so deep under my skin that I would happily give her my life if she asked for it, without thinking twice.

Fuck! I was so pussy-whipped.

Yet I didn't know what to do.

I knew what I should do.

Go to the Brooke, save Delos, protect Rosanne and come back.

But it was much, much more dangerous than it sounded.

And it wasn't hard to guess that I wasn't really worried about going to the Brooke.

Given that I still didn't remember being there or anything about that place, I should be pissing my pants from the stories Jared and Rosanne have told me.