Run With The Devil

Shattered Apologies

Lyras pov

I sank to the floor, my body trembling as I sat amidst the wreckage of my room. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the rush of adrenaline fading into a heavy, painful exhaustion. Deon and Harper were right outside the door, their voices a distant murmur against the chaos inside my mind.

When Deon finally managed to open the door, he stepped in, his gaze taking in the disarray of my room. His expression was a mix of concern and determination. As he approached, I could see him carefully navigating around the broken glass and debris.

"Lyra," he said softly, his voice steady despite the situation. "We need to get you cleaned up."

I looked up at him, my eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry," I said, my voice breaking. "I didn't mean to... I just couldn't control it."

Deon knelt beside me, his hands reaching out to help. I watched as he gently took my bruised and bleeding hands, his touch surprisingly tender. Blood from my knuckles dripped onto his hands, staining them. I tried to pull away, but he held firm, his gaze unwavering.

"No, it's my fault," I continued, my voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry for everything. I didn't want to hurt anyone, especially not you."

Deon didn't respond with words. Instead, he reached for a nearby towel, carefully dabbing at the blood and cleaning my hands. His movements were slow and methodical, each action imbued with a calmness that I desperately needed.

"You don't need to keep apologizing," he said gently. "What matters now is getting you cleaned up and helping you through this."

I sobbed softly as he worked, the guilt and shame overwhelming me. "But I hurt you and your men. And Harper... I hurt everyone. How can I make this right?"

Deon's hands were steady as he wrapped a fresh bandage around my hands, his gaze meeting mine with a sincerity that pierced through my despair. "We'll work through it together," he said. "I'm here to help you. We'll find a way to deal with these emotions and the triggers that set them off. But first, we need to focus on making sure you're okay."

I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for being here. I don't know what I'd do without you."

As he finished tending to my hands, I felt a wave of relief mixed with the continued ache of my emotions. Deon's presence was a grounding force amidst the chaos inside me. I could see the resolve in his eyes, a promise that he wasn't going to give up on me.

"I'm here," he said, standing up and helping me to my feet. "We'll get through this. But for now, let's get you somewhere more comfortable. We need to talk about what happened and find a way to move forward."

Harper, who had been watching silently, stepped forward to help guide me out of the room. I glanced back at the mess, feeling a pang of regret. I was determined to make things right, to rebuild the trust I had shattered, but I knew it would be a long and difficult journey.

As we moved through the house, I clung to the hope that with their support and my own determination, I could find a way to heal the wounds I had inflicted-both on myself and on those who cared for me.

Deons pov

As we descended the staircase, the familiar creak of the wooden steps was almost soothing amidst the chaos. I could feel Lyra's hand in mine, her grip tentative but appreciative. We were making our way to the living room when the front door swung open, and I was momentarily distracted by the sound.

My sister burst through the door with her usual exuberance, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Behind her followed my nonchalant brother, his expression stoic but alert. My parents came next, their gaze sweeping over the room with an air of quiet observation.

I watched as their eyes landed on me, my father's scrutinizing gaze meeting mine first. My mother's eyes softened as they landed on Lyra, and my sister's cheerful demeanor dimmed slightly as she took in the scene.

"Deon, dear!" My mother's voice was warm, though I could detect a hint of concern. "We didn't expect you to be here. And who is this?"

I took a deep breath, trying to manage the swirl of emotions and concerns that had been occupying my mind. I gently squeezed Lyra's arm, offering her a reassuring smile.

"This is Lyra," I said, my voice steady despite the underlying tension. "She's been staying with us for a while. She's had a rough time recently."

My sister's curiosity piqued, and she stepped forward, her eyes widening as she looked at Lyra. "Oh, I see! It's nice to meet you, Lyra. I hope you're feeling better now?"

Lyra gave a small, hesitant smile. "Nice to meet you too," she replied softly, her voice tinged with the exhaustion and residual emotion from earlier.

My brother gave a nod of acknowledgment, his expression remaining unchanged. My father, however, maintained his focused gaze, assessing the situation with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"We've been hearing a lot about you," my father said, his tone measured. "I trust you're being well cared for?"

I nodded, my gaze meeting my father's. "Yes, Dad. I'm doing my best to ensure she's okay. There's been a lot going on, but we're handling it."

My mother stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Lyra's shoulder. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask. We're here to help."

Lyra looked up at my mother, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

The atmosphere in the room shifted slightly, the presence of my family adding a layer of normalcy to the ongoing turmoil. It was clear they were concerned, but their support was evident.

"Why don't we all sit down and catch up?" my mother suggested, trying to ease the tension. "We can talk over a meal. It'll be nice to have everyone together."

As we moved towards the dining area, I felt a flicker of relief. My family's presence was a grounding force, a reminder of the support network I had in place. With Lyra by my side, I knew that together we could face whatever challenges lay ahead, with the added strength of my family's support.

As we settled around the table, I looked at Lyra, who seemed to be absorbing the warmth of the moment. It was a small step towards healing, but an important one. And with my family's backing, I hoped it would help pave the way for a brighter future for both of us.