Fractured Echoes

chapter six

" Old Scars, New Wounds "

Charlotte had slipped out of the room a few minutes ago, quiet and smooth like a shadow. I hadn't said anything—what was there to say? My head was still spinning from the kiss, my lips still tingling from the heat of it. I wasn't sure if it was the vape or the adrenaline, but my body felt like it was buzzing, vibrating with something I couldn't quite explain. Something I didn't want to explain. I couldn't even begin to process what had just happened. What it meant.

But as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I could still hear Violet's voice filtering through the walls. She was talking to Aiden—of course she fucking was. Her tone was sharp, a little too loud, the kind of voice you used when you were trying to seem unaffected but were actually pissed. Typical Violet.

I tried to ignore it, but her voice seemed to get louder, closer, and before I knew it, I realized she was right outside my door. My heart kicked up, that familiar rush of nerves that always hit me when she was nearby. I wasn't ready for this—not after the shitstorm of the last few days. Not after she'd spent the entire day pretending I didn't exist.

And then I heard the knock. Three soft raps on the wood, hesitant.

"Come in," I called out, my voice coming out steadier than I felt. Part of me hoped it wasn't her, but I knew better. Who else would be knocking this late at night?

The door creaked open, and there she was. Violet. The girl who had been ignoring me all day, and now she was standing in my doorway like nothing had happened. Like we weren't tangled up in a past too heavy to forget. She hesitated for a second, her hand still on the doorknob, her eyes flicking around the room before they settled on me.

"Can we talk?" she asked, her voice softer now. Less sharp. Almost...vulnerable.

I stared at her for a moment, trying to read her, but Violet was hard to pin down. Always had been. I sat up, pushing myself against the headboard, and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Come in."

She closed the door behind her and walked toward the bed, her movements slow, deliberate. I watched as she sat down at the edge of the mattress, leaving a careful distance between us. There was an awkward silence, and I hated it. We never used to have these silences. Back then, everything between us had felt raw, immediate, like we were running out of time every time we spoke.

Violet cleared her throat, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "I know I've been acting weird," she started, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I know you probably hate me right now—"

"I don't hate you," I cut her off, though the words tasted bitter in my mouth. It wasn't that simple. It never had been with Violet.

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine, and I could see the flicker of something old in them. Something familiar. "Then why didn't you say anything earlier?" she asked, her tone a little sharper now. "I've been around all day, Iris, and you didn't even look at me."

I felt my stomach twist. "You were the one who was ignoring *me,* Violet," I shot back, frustration bubbling up. "Don't act like I'm the one who didn't want to talk."

She winced, like my words had hit a nerve. For a second, I thought she was going to get up and leave, but she didn't. Instead, she sighed and ran a hand through her hair, looking at me with those piercing eyes that always seemed to see straight through my bullshit.

"We need to talk about what happened," she said, quieter this time. "About...everything."

The weight of the past two years crashed over me, all the shit we never dealt with, all the feelings we'd buried. I leaned back, exhaling a long, shaky breath. "You mean the hospital."

She nodded, her expression softening, and for the first time tonight, I saw the cracks. The cracks in the armor she always wore. "Yeah. The hospital. Us."

I hadn't thought about it in a while, at least not like this. We'd met in that sterile, white-walled hellhole two years ago, both of us broken in our own ways. I'd been spiraling, my mind a mess of anxiety and depression that I couldn't control. Violet had been... well, she'd been a fucking wreck, too. But we'd found each other in the chaos, clinging to one another like we were the only solid ground in an ocean of shit.

We were always touching. Back then, it was the only thing that kept us tethered to reality. A hand on the arm, a brush of fingers, a lingering glance. It wasn't just comfort—it was need. It was survival. And somewhere along the way, it turned into something more.

But then it all went to shit. We got out, life moved on, and Violet... she left. Just fucking vanished. And I'd been stuck with all these unresolved feelings, all these questions that she'd never bothered to answer.

"We were a mess back then," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. "I was a mess. You were a mess. Everything was fucked up."

"I know," she whispered. "But it wasn't all bad, was it?"

I looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment, I saw the girl I used to know. The one who made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I wasn't completely alone in the world. "No," I admitted. "It wasn't all bad."

There was a pause, the air between us thick with things unsaid. Then, I couldn't help it. The question slipped out before I could stop myself.

"Do you still...feel the same? After everything?"

Violet looked at me, her eyes wide and vulnerable, like I'd just asked her the hardest question in the world. Her lips parted, but no words came out for a second. She just stared at me, and I could feel my heart racing in my chest, waiting for her answer.

"Yes," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I do. I still feel the same."

Fuck.

The room seemed to tilt, like the weight of her words had shifted the entire universe. I hadn't expected her to say it. I hadn't let myself hope for it. But now that it was out there, hanging between us, I didn't know what the hell to do with it.

"You still feel the same?" I repeated, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.

She nodded, her gaze steady now, unflinching. "Yeah, Iris. I still feel the same. I always have."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to think. All I knew was that the past was back, crashing into the present with the force of a fucking freight train. And no matter how hard I tried to push it away, it wasn't going anywhere.