The moonlight casts a soft glow on her.
Her brown hair cascades like silk, each strand catching the light as if it's been kissed by the stars themselves. Her brown eyes are endless, with a warmth that pulls me in and a sharpness that keeps me on edge. Her skin glows with a hue, as if she's captured the last light of day and held onto it just for me. There's a deadly grace to her, an edge that's as intoxicating as it is dangerous, yet here she is, lying beside me in the quiet of the night.
The candles I've lit up are the only source of light right now.
The gentle flicker of the flames casts dancing shadows over her face, making her seem impossibly real, like a dream I never want to wake from. It's probably 12 a.m., the world around us silent, as if time itself has paused to admire her.
"You're staring olezka" her voice fills my ears and I realise that I was in fact staring at her
"У тебя есть проблемы с этим, любовь моя??" I ask her
She doesn't understand Russian, I know that, but it's so amusing seeing her face scrunch up in confusion.
"No I don't" She replies and I'm glad she can't see my face clearly because I can't shake the shock off my face.
How did she...?
"I know you well enough by now to know exactly what you said" She muses proud of herself
"not exactly" I correct her and push myself off the mat.
I stretch out a hand to her and she looks up at me through those big brown doe eyes.
Fuck me.
She takes my hand hesitantly and I pull her up. I keep her hand in mine as I lead us to the edge of the cliff and I sit with my legs hanging off.
She follows my movement and rests her head on my shoulder.
"This has been amazing" She whispers even though there's no-one else here but us.
"I'm glad" I press a kiss to her head
__________________________________________________
*Ariana*
It was perfect, It was perfect and I hate that.
I hate that It was perfect.
I hate that I like him this much.
I hate it. But I'm not running away again. The urge is so so strong though. All I want is to have him. I want him, He is already mine.
I mean look what he just did for me, for us, I'm literally laying in his arms as he sleeps beside me.
I shift and rotate to face him. I move the hair draped on his face backwards and admire him.
Call me weird , but how could anyone not admire him. Even in his sleep he is deadly, stunning.
I'm not conflicted about my emotions, I'm conflicted about my life. About what I'm doing.
It's overwhelming, this feeling of belonging, like I've found something I didn't know I was looking for.
But perfection doesn't last, does it? It's fleeting, like a whisper in the wind, gone before you even realise it was there.Carefully, I untangle myself from his arms, trying not to disturb his sleep. The warmth of his body leaves a hollow ache as I slip out of bed, the cool air of the room rushing to fill the space where he was. I take one last look at him, his face still relaxed and unaware of the turmoil raging inside me. It's better this way—I need to clear my head.
My phone is on the nightstand, and I reach for it.
I quietly leave the room, stepping into the hallway where the darkness feels less oppressive. The cold floor under my feet is grounding, a stark contrast to the warmth I just left behind. I scroll through my contacts until I find his name and hit call, the ringing in my ear feeling like a lifeline.
"Hello?" My brother's voice is groggy, thick with sleep
"Hey" I say, keeping my voice low. I lean against the wall, closing my eyes as I let the familiar tone of his voice wash over me.
I miss him, I miss Dion so much.
"Ariana" His tone shifts and I hear him moving in the background.
"Is everything okay?" I ask immediately worried
".. yeah" He clarifies after a moment but I don't believe him
"How's Vasillia and Nicolai?" I ask
".... fine I guess" He hesitates and I can almost imagine him grimacing
"Dion, what's up?"
"It's nothing" I hear his voice shake
"I'm sorry I haven't been able to come back yet"
"You know if you don't kill him I will"
I feel my heart stop.
"Giovanni?" I ask for confirmation
It's been a few weeks since he passed. I know that He and Dion always had a better relationship than me but I never thought he would've wanted to kill him. Not like I did.
I've spoken to Dion about it a few times, and I mean what is there to say about it, he's dead, It is what it is.
People die.
"Yea" He says
A heavy silence hangs between us.
"You can't carry that, Dion," I say, trying to keep my voice calm, though I feel anything but.
"What's done is done. He's gone, and nothing we do can change that."
"But it doesn't feel like it's over," he says, and I can hear the frustration
"I know, but it'll get better" I repeat the words I've heard so many times before and despise.
"Yeah, anyways I need to go, I love you, be safe" He sighs
"Love you too, bye" I close the phone
I lean back against the wall, letting out a long breath as I stare up at the ceiling.
I have to go back.
Back to him.
I push off the wall and make my way back to the bedroom, my footsteps soft against the floor. The door is slightly ajar, and as I slip inside, the dim light from the hallway casts a faint glow across the room. Zayden is still there, sprawled out on the bed, his breathing deep and even.
stand at the edge of the bed for a moment, just watching him. The way his chest rises and falls, the way his lips part slightly in sleep. I can't help but smile.
He's so much more than I ever expected.
I slide back into bed beside him, careful not to wake him. The mattress dips under my weight, and the warmth of his body draws me in like a magnet. I curl up next to him, letting my head rest on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
His heartbeat is a steady, rhythmic pulse beneath my ear.
I think this might just be my favourite sound in the whole world.
He's alive.
His arm instinctively wraps around me, pulling me closer. Zayden stirs slightly, mumbling something incoherent in his sleep, and I smile against his chest. I press a gentle kiss to his skin, savouring him.
___________________________
Don't know how I feel about this...
Word count:1125
YOU ARE READING
Broken Constellation
Romance"blood on your hands they say- as though it stops there ; at your wrists, like a glove as though you could do all of this and there couldn't be a part of you that isn't stained or dripping" They say the loveliest angels make the cruelest demons an...
