𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫 || 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

[ 𝟎𝟒𝟗 ] 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

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Now, when Y/n heard the words being told to her, she didn't think negatively—no, but was just incensed that he didn't tell her while they were producing the plan to go back to them. While they were upstairs, the boy was coming up with numerous ideas on how they would go back to them, explain who they were, show them memories and everything . . . but now the whole plan was thrown away in the trash as if it were nothing.

"I know it was wrong to keep it from you, Y/n, but I didn't know what else to do." Mace turned to her, hoping to meet her eyes, but the girl kept her gaze to the ground. His eyes started to glisten with tears, too, though he told himself that he needed to be strong, and he couldn't cry because it was mostly his fault.

Y/n exhaled a breath she'd been holding, wiping her palms on her thighs. "I guess you not telling me was a good thing, though."

Mace scrunched his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged as she licked her chapped lips. "I would've been living in a reality where I thought there wasn't a chance we could get them back . . . but now, I don't?" the girl tried to form a sentence but failed remarkably. "I don't know—" she placed her face back in her hands, sighing out which led it to turn to a groan.

Her head ached. Her body ached. Everything ached as her thoughts bumped into the side of her brain, then another thought hit another side. She felt as if her head weighed a hundred pounds and as if she were being hit with a baseball bat at the same time. She needed time to think because she felt herself getting stressed and confused.

"I have so many thoughts that I have in my head, and I need them to leave," cried the young girl as she rubbed her temples severely.

Mace was hesitant to put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, but he didn't want her to move away from him. He put his hand back onto his thigh, awkwardly rubbing it up and down as he looked away from her. "I understand if you're angry—"

"I'm not, surprisingly, I'm just—" she let out another sigh as she cut herself off. "Everything from last night, following this morning, and then now was just a hassle and it requires a lot of brain power. "Can we just . . . talk more about this later?"

Mace took in the information with a nod, letting the girl get back to her thoughts. "Also, there was another reason."

Y/n leaned up from her palms and looked him in the eyes. "What is it?"

Mace tried to buy himself time but knew it didn't matter. He had to tell her. "I had this dream the night of when the academy fell, and it felt so real." Y/n sat up straight, wanting to hear more as it captivated her. "I was in the hotel, but it looked so different. The floor was a different pattern, the lights in here were more haunting—more mysterious, and we were all talking about a formation or something, and a guy with a sword was trying to kill us—"

"Wait, wait, wait, a sword?" asked Y/n. "Mace, this isn't a time to joke—"

He shook his head at her showing incredulity. "I'm not joking, Y/n, I swear it. He came after me, and then you went forward to fight him. After that, his sword came at me, and he impaled me in the stomach."

Y/n's face fell. "You . . . You died?"

The boy gave her a semi-nod. "I think I did. Look, every time I think of it—well, when I had the dream, I never finished it because I woke up the moment before it happened."

"So, then you may not die," Y/n came up with a possibility to the horrid situation. "Mace, if you never saw it happen, then there can't be a chance it even actually happened."