Page 33 of Seeking Shadows

The silence falls hard, and I’m hit with memories that I can’t seem to shake—those nights when she would casually tell me about how she was raised, as if it wasn’t messed up enough to send someone into a full-on panic. Broken bones. Punches that hit like sledgehammers, leaving bruises that didn’t fade. Almost drowning because "it was important to know how to survive." Abuse. Torture. I shudder, the weight of it crawling up my spine. It's like I can still feel the ghost of it all, even though she’s here now, all light and fire in front of me, and that shit doesn’t belong to her anymore.

But somehow, it still clings to her, to me.

If I don’t fight this, she will be back in their clutches. Back in that cage they built for her, the one she can never quite escape.

I can’t let that happen. Not again. But that doesn’t mean I have to do it the painful way.

“…No, thank you very much,” I manage to say, a little too quickly.

Mia rolls her eyes and offers me her hand, her lips curling into a smirk. “Okay, then at least fight back, love.” The last word is dripping with sarcasm, and even though I know I’m probably about to get knocked down again, I try to get my bearings, getting into position. But before I can even blink, Mia’s already behind me, knocking me to the ground again with barely any effort.

She climbs on top of me, and then a completely different memory floods my mind—of her riding me, her tight pussy making my cock spasm inside her, and I cum like the pathetic person I am when I’m around her.

Fuck, I want her.

I can still feel it, even now—her breath on my skin, the way she’d sigh when I touched her in that certain way, like I was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.God, how her hands would trace the lines of my body, like she was memorizing every inch of me. I’d get lost in her, in the sound of her voice, in the way she’d look at me—so raw, so real. Like nothing in the world mattered except that moment, that connection.

I remember the way she would whisper my name, so breathless, so desperate... as if she needed me the way I needed her. And when we touched, when she gave herself to me, it was like we were the only two people alive. That warmth, that heat—it’s all gone now.

It should’ve been enough. It should’ve been everything. But now? Now I can’t even think about it without feeling this sharp, bitter emptiness eating me from the inside.

She betrayed me. She fucking betrayed me, and all that was between us, all that connection, it’s lost. I’ll never get that back. And I hate her for it. I hate her for making me feel like she was the only thing that mattered—only to tear it all away.

I want to forget the way she felt beneath me, the way she looked at me like I was home. But it’s burned into me now, and it’ll never stop hurting.

“You know what?” I exhale, letting my body stay on the grass for a second longer. “I give up.”

“You can’t give up!” Mia crosses her arms, irritation flashing in her eyes. “What if my father wants to put you in a fight?”

“I’ll run,” I answer without hesitation. The words feel too easy, but I mean them. I’m not dying today.

Mia looks at me like she’s weighing her options—whether to hit me harder or leave me to my fate. I’m not sure which would be worse, honestly.

"Okay, let's do something you like," she says suddenly, and her voice lifts with excitement. "I'm going to put on Blackpink."

The beat starts, and for a moment, I think something’s going to change. I feel that little spark of energy inside me. But then Mia kicks me in the ribs, and I gasp.

"Are you dancing or fighting?" she laughs, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "Both," I mumble weakly, trying to shake off the pain as I struggle to stand again.

"I'm an artist, not a fighter. This is tough."

"Apologies are for losers!" she says in a commanding tone that doesn’t sound quite as threatening as she thinks. She steps back, waves her hands in the air. "Come on, try to hit me."

Does she even realize how unthreatening she sounds?

Don’t get me wrong, I know what Mia’s capable of. I’ve seen it firsthand. But it’s hard to remember that when she speaks like that, with that sweet voice and that height difference between us, it’s almost like I can forget—just for a second—that she’s the one who can knock me on my ass in two seconds.

Focus. Focus.

This girl betrayed you. She killed your friend.

I try. I swear I try.

But Mia moves like she’s dancing too, slipping behind me, spinning, and before I can even react, she shoves me by the shoulders. My foot slips on the mat, and I’m face-first on the floor again.

Silence.

“Okay,” she says, sitting down next to me, her voice soft. “Maybe fighting isn’t your thing.”

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