Page 55 of Nocturne
I stand still, staring, and remember my parents talking about this shit, how butterflies are signs of change.
Transformation.
I take a deep breath. Feel my chest burning. Is that it? A sign? Are Noah and my family all here, watching me? Would they understand what’s happening inside me?
Or is life just telling me straight up: you’re not the same. And you never will be.
The butterfly flies away. Light, free. Like it’s carrying something of mine with it.
I stay there. Alone. Confused. Regretful.
And for the first time in months—maybe years—I let a tear slip. It’s not a weakness. It’s the end of holding all this shit inside me, a silent collapse of a soul that can’t fit in my chest anymore.
If I could turn back time, I’d destroy every second, change everything, erase what’s eating me alive. But is there even a “different” when his name still echoes like a curse burning my throat?
Hunter.
That name’s a punch that never stops hurting. A cold whisper that cuts through my skin, shattering mypeace.
And here I am, broken, trapped in this endless cycle of pain and desire, with no way out, no forgiveness.
The sound of my phone ringing pulls me out of that deep, painful reflection, like I’m being dragged back to the real world—right in the middle of a war that hasn’t happened yet, but is about to burn everything around me.
It’s Emma. And as much as I want to pick up, I need some time alone, with my brother, with my family—my parents are in that cemetery too—and I need to talk to them for a bit, try to clear my mind, even if that feels impossible.
I have to try to understand what happened between me and Hunter, why these confusing feelings are twisting me up, trying to break through to the surface. The anger I feel toward him and everything he stands for is massive, but the way he fucks with me… it’s different. Strange. I’ve never felt this before.
I don’t pick up. Not because I don’t care — but because right now, I just need to be alone.
I take a deep breath, let the phone ring until it dies out, then slip it into my pocket like that silence is all I’ve got left.
?????
I park the car in front of my apartment, but my eyes don’t rest — every movement on the street is a possible threat, every shadow could be hiding danger. I live alone, but here, in my world, being alone never means being safe. The air smells like damp bricks, old smoke, andlukewarm coffee. A mix of rust, tired flowers on window sills, and stale grease from some deli on the corner.
The sunset spills lazily between Boston’s gray buildings, painting the windows with a blood-orange glow. A few people walk the sidewalk, unaware of the weight hanging in the air, like the city is breathing silent tension.
An old man passes by me, slow, pulling a dog on a leash. The sound of paws on concrete is muffled, almost reverent. For a moment, the world feels normal — until I remember that at any wrong step, everything could fall apart.
“You lost your damn mind?” Emma comes at me hard, punching my chest with force. “Why the fuck didn’t you answer my calls?”
I grab her arms, trying to calm the storm she is. She’s tired — exhausted even — but still beautiful, those freckles scattered across her face, those clear eyes that grab anyone, even though she’s a killer.
“Easy, easy... What happened?” I slowly let go of her arms. “I really wasn’t in the right headspace to pick up. I needed... I don’t know, just needed to be alone.”
“Damon...” She breaks down, tears coming hard and fast. She collapses on my arms, sobbing with broken, desperate breaths. I’d never seen Emma like this. “Damon, I’m so sorry...”
Fear burns through me like a branding iron.
“Fuck, Emma! What are you talkin’ about? Talk to me, I don’t get any of this... Just breathe and tell me.”
She pulls away from my arms, rubbing her trembling hands over her face to dry the tears. I feel theweight of her gaze, that empathetic look that, against all odds, rests on me — even though she’s a killer.
“You... you can’t... you need to listen carefully, just listen... No matter what, I’m here.” She starts, but my mind’s still spinning, trying to fit the pieces of what she’s saying. “I didn’t tell anyone. I called you a bunch of times.”
Desperation rises, taking over. I start pacing back and forth, aimless. “Emma!” I shout, my voice breaking. “What the fuck happened?”
She stares at me, eyes full of tears, and drops the bomb. “Damon... Hunter killed your brother.”
