Page 56 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You
My gaze catches on a familiar shade of midnight blue.
Arlo.
He’s sitting on a bench with his friends, all of them staring at me now, confusion written across their faces.
I clutch at my jumper, trying to loosen the fabric against my chest.
It feels suffocating, I can’t seem to draw a full breath.
My vision swims again, and I turn sharply, gripping the side of the building as I force myself to move.
I make my way around the corner, desperate to get out of sight, and suddenly I’m not here anymore.
A man is kissing me.
I try to open my eyes but I’m still trapped inside it.
I smile at him. He smiles back, warm, almost loving, until his mouth twists cruelly.
He’s wearing a mask, and I can’t clearly see his face. Everything is blurred.
I can’t breathe.
I see a man.
I feel hands on me.
I smell damp earth.
I hear music pounding.
I can’t breathe.
A rock in my hand, swinging. Blood, hot and slick, everywhere.
I can’t breathe.
A gasp tears out of me. I claw at my shirt.
Hands are on me and I jolt, panic surging.
Is this happening now? Is this real?
“Breathe,” someone whispers.
That voice… so familiar.
I know it, I want to reach for it, to come back to it, but my mind won’t let go of the woods, won’t release the image of the man bleeding on top of me, heavy as stone.
Hands smooth over my skin. “Copy my breathing,” he says.
And I try. I match him, or at least, I think I do.
His voice anchors me, his touch grounds me. The rhythm of his breathing draws me back, inch by inch, until the world begins to right itself again.
My eyes flutter open at last, locking green to midnight blue.
A soft breath escapes me as the world tilts and goes black. Strong arms catch me.
