BAD BOYY [ 𝑀𝑀 ]

EIGHT

It's the dead of night when I wake, my head pounding as if punishing me for my sins. Confusion wraps around me, suffocating, until I remember. Yakow. The blanket is tossed aside as I stumble out of bed, my feet barely touching the ground as I race downstairs to the medical room. He has to be awake by now. He has to be. I need to see his eyes, to beg for forgiveness I don't deserve.

I burst through the door, breathless, and there he is — sitting up. Alive. A strangled sob catches in my throat as my vision blurs with tears. How long has he been awake? How long have I wasted, lost in my guilt, while he suffered alone?

His voice is a salve I don't deserve. "Come here, baby. And stop crying". His arms open wide, the same arms I thought I'd never feel around me again.

I collapse into him, clutching at him as though letting go would send him drifting away forever. His embrace is firm, warm — so painfully tender that it breaks me. I can't stop the sobs that tear through me, each one a reminder of the wounds I've inflicted.

I hurt him. Shattered his trust with my cowardice. I made him believe that I could still love that monster. Made him think he was nothing but a tool, a placeholder for a love that had long since withered into hate. The very fear that had kept me up at night became his reality, and it's my fault.

I cling to him, praying that somehow, his forgiveness can stitch together the fragments of my soul, even as I know some things may never heal.

"I—I'm sorry", I choke out, my sobs barely letting the words escape.

"It's okay. I've got you", he whispers, but his voice is fragile, trembling. Then, quieter — pleading. "Just never leave me again"

His desperation shatters me, and I break down even harder, my body shaking in his arms.

"I'm so sorry for hurting you", I gasp between sobs, my hands gripping his shirt like I'll disappear if I let go.

"It's okay", he exhales, running his hand over my back in slow, soothing strokes. But it's not okay. It will never be okay and we both know it.

It takes me so long to calm down, to even catch my breath. His heartbeat thunders against mine, steady and warm, like an anchor pulling me back to him. His chest is firm, solid, real. His arms are wrapped around me so tightly that I wonder if he's afraid I'll slip through his fingers again.

Slowly, hesitantly, I lift my head to meet his gaze, even though shame weighs heavy on me, crushing me. He sighs and wipes my tears away with such tenderness that I almost break all over again.

"Everything I said was a lie. Please, believe me. I'm glad you killed him"

"I know, lunnyy svet", he murmurs, calling me his moonlight.

Something inside me stirs at the sound of it, something raw and aching and desperate to be whole again. I want to cry all over again. He is my soul. My other half. The only thing tethering me to this world.