The stag hunt with the scarlet heart

Chapter 16 "I'm definitely going mad"

Chapter 16 "I'm definitely going mad"

I thought myself a fighter, with a cracked armor and a wound of some kind, but I'm changing, I think for the better, it feels way too slow, way too repetitive and if you ask me it's rough, but I swear, I'm changing.

I thought I was a fighter, with a cracked armor and a wound of some kind, but I'm changing, I think for the better, it feels way too slow, way too repetitive and if you ask me it's hard, but I swear I'm changing.

I've reached a strange time in my life where things have broken me to the point where I couldn't even think about it or want anyone to hold me because when you fall, when you just want to shatter on the floor like shards of glass and cut the skin of anyone who tries to pick you up, that's how I felt and for a while I belonged on the floor, and you don't know if it's for long, you hope it's temporary, but you want to stay there, just there and be.

Lately I have been lying awake wondering the whys and wherefores, it seemed to me that it was a kind of insomnia that had a lot to do with that wound I mentioned to you.

After my conversation with Callum in the alley, I haven't stopped thinking about it. About life and all its consequences, about the possibilities and the reasons.

Ryan always seems to accompany me in my musings, as he did last night, lying next to me, in between ramblings that were very much ours and very sincere.

"Can you imagine going to bed, falling asleep easily, waking up rested, having a good day, and doing it all over again?"

"Yes, that sounds like a good fantasy."

That's what it felt like when I woke up with him next to me and my body was telling me it was no big deal, but it felt like it was a big deal.

I wonder if it is necessary to have two arms because I feel that one of them will fall off at any moment. Detached from my body. I can even feel it swollen and heavy as I hold it, Callum massaging my shoulder a little to prevent numbness. Alexa was dragging me down the street, she was running, and I was trying to keep up.

We were leaving the restaurant after a meeting with a writer, and she appeared in all her glory and somehow convinced us to go with her to see a place she wanted to buy or rent, but she was late for the meeting.

I couldn't appreciate how beautiful the place was supposed to be because of the lack of blood circulation. But from where we are, I can see the stunning floor-to-ceiling library with seats hanging from a beam in the ceiling, surrounded by gardens full of flowers. Autumn would love this place.

Callum's phone rings and I jump in surprise, standing there like an idiot looking at the place and forgetting about his fingers crawling across my skin. He pulls away to take the call with a smile that tickles my lower stomach.

And then the sensation on my neck surprises me, as if someone is watching me. At that moment I feel it so strong, so palpable, that I want to squirm.

That's when I feel it. His gaze. On the other side of the street, on the crosswalk, I can't quite make him out, although he stands out from the other people, he's a tall man in a black suit. He has a shiny watch in his left hand.

I watch the man walk away and decide to follow him. Even though it's not my turn to cross the street, I do it without caring about the car horns, I run.

I need to see his face.

I have to tell my heart to calm down. To stop imagining, to stop making up stories that will only make me more miserable.

Please don't let it be him. It can't be him.

My calves hurt, they burn as I follow him down two streets, not caring if I push people or hit things, I have to catch him. I stop holding on to the pole and try to fill my lungs with air, I don't know if it's from chasing him or the idea that it's him, Atlas.