Page 44 of Seeking Shadows

Now my own body betrays me.

Now, I think about her when I shouldn’t.

When I’m alone. When I’m busy. When I need to focus.

And that pisses me off more than anything. Because it’s not just lust. It’s not just physical. It’s deeper, rawer—something that makes me want to drop everything and go after her like my life depends on it.

And it doesn’t.

It’s irrelevant. It doesn’t matter. I have more important things to deal with. My mind should be elsewhere.

But instead, I want Mia in a way that makes me sick with frustration.

Like my own body has forgotten who I am. Like it’s acting on its own.

And the worst part? Fighting it doesn’t change a damn thing.

Because I know—no matter how much I resist, no matter how much I try to ignore it—I’ll go back to her anyway.

Does that make me a horrible person?

Knowing I’ve reached a point where I can’t really be without her, even though she betrayed my trust? Even though she killed my friend?

The thought sticks to me like a curse. I still want Mia. Still crave her. Still feel that pull, even when everything inside me screams that I shouldn’t.

The feelings are still there, soaked in anger, twisted by resentment and pain, but they don’t fade. They don’t let up.

And it makes me want to tear myself apart.

Frustration boils in my chest, hot and suffocating, burning through every rational thought I try to hold on to. My breathing is heavy, my muscles tense—and before I can stop myself, my fist slams into the mirror.

The glass shatters. The sound cracks through the silence.

Pain comes fast, sharp and raw, spreading through my hand like fire.

Blood drips between my fingers, staining the sink red. Small shards dig into my skin, but for a second, nothing else exists—just the pain. Just the sting.

Just the physical burn drowning out the rest.

Until the sound of breaking glass brings something with it.

A snap. A scream.

And suddenly—I’m not here anymore.

I’m back in that dirty apartment. The stench of stale beer and cigarettes clings to the walls. Heavy footsteps approach. My body hunches over, hands shaking around an empty glass.

“Where the fuck is my beer?”

His voice is thick with alcohol and fury, every word soaked in venom. I don’t respond fast enough. Glass shatters, a deafening crack that echoes through the room.

Pain.

A brutal blow to the face sends me reeling, my teeth sinking into the inside of my cheek, the taste of iron flooding my mouth. My head slams into the floor with sickening force. Stars explode behind my eyes, the room spinning violently.

He’s on top of me, his hands like iron, jerking me by the shoulder as his breath reeks of liquor and rage.

“I asked you a fucking question, you worthless piece of shit!”

---