Page 65 of Eternal

DAMIR

“In My Room” by Chance Pena

Present

P urple irises.

The old journal sits on the table, the blanket folded beside it. Another song plays on repeat, and my hands… fuck . My hands won't stop moving, fingers tracing the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw.

Broken . So many demons, so many thoughts, but none strong enough to name what I feel with her lying here, vulnerable in a way I was never supposed to see.

“You’re always so sad… ” I whisper, though she won’t hear it, not in her sleep, not in her dreams, if she even has them.

She can’t die. I can’t kill her. I don’t want to.

I’ve never doubted a mission, not once. But if it’s true, if she’s that little girl, if all she does is fight for something that was stolen from her, then why should I stop her?

Why do I feel lighter with her next to me?

Why does a fucking smile pull at my lips as I watch her sleep on my chest?

Is she killing me?

Maybe . Maybe her trust is a poison that’s soaked into my bloodstream, maybe her eyes carved into my ribs until my heart turned soft and weak.

Voron .

Voron .

Voron .

I inhale sharply, lifting her into my arms. She shifts slightly, sighs against me, and something in my chest tightens, she’s beautiful.

Does it make sense, this kind of beauty? I don’t think so, but my heart, traitorous, reckless, and alive, recognizes it. Like it was waiting for this moment, like it never thought it would see something like this in a lifetime built on blood and lies.

I lay her on the bed, but I don’t leave, I can’t .

Instead, I lie beside her, still dressed, barely breathing. She’s too close… no . She’s not close enough.

Do I even want to keep tracking her? Or am I just doing a shitty job on this mission?

Fuck .

She breathes so softly, and all I can do is stare. Her face, calm, relaxed, but still so , so sad.

And her words, they echo in my skull, burrow into my skin.

I need to know more, I need to know everything. I don’t know why, I just do, but not now, not tonight.

Tonight, all I want is this, her beside me, the sound of her breathing, the weight of her existence.

I won’t touch her. I won’t move.

I’ll just stay .

And maybe, if I’m lucky, she’ll pull me into whatever dream world she’s in.

My gaze met small drawings on the ceiling of her room. Stars . Drawn by hand, and all I want is to stay underneath the sky she created.