𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒 | SPINOFF

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ALESSIO
KINGSTON

My eyes clung to the sight of them, a silent desperation knotting inside me. I wanted to be the one holding her hand in that sterile hospital bed, the one whispering comfort while she lay there, lost in sleep. It should've been me, not Astor, sitting beside her, talking to her even though she couldn't hear. It was me who saved her that summer, not him.

Astor just arrived today, blissfully unaware all week, while I've been here every day. I skipped school, ignored food unless Jaxon's mom forced it down my throat. I slept in that cold metal chair, just to keep vigil, to make sure she wasn't alone. And now, I sat on the outside looking in, watching another man be the one she needed.

She was my Avery. My girl. And she was still fighting, lying there fragile and pale. I wanted her to live — to see her become the nurse she dreamed of being, to hear her dirty little jokes—to see her laugh again, to watch her raise that family she always talked about, even if it wasn't mine. If it meant she'd be happy, I'd stand back. But it ripped me apart.

Astor finally left, his footsteps fading down the hall. Mama Crist placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Go see her," she murmured softly. "She's always been your girl. Even if she can't hear you, get it off your chest."

I nodded, my throat tight, and stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind me. Her face was pale, delicate in that sterile light, like some broken angel. I sank into the chair, finally reaching for her hand — her small, soft hand that fit in mine like it was made for it. I hadn't touched her since summer, not once without pretending I didn't want to.

"Hey, little devil," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I never stopped loving you, you know? I see you with Astor, and I know he's what you need. Maybe he's good for you in a way I couldn't be. You'll probably pick him. He's a mess, but at least he's stable in his chaos. I would've wrecked you one way or another, just like I always have."

The words felt sharp, scraping out of my chest. "I only went to Avalina to make you jealous. To get you back — to hear you say you still loved me. You were always my favorite girl, always. And that promise I made back in summer? I haven't broken it. You're still my everything, Avery. You always will be."

A faint shudder ran through her hand, and I froze. Her fingers twitched under mine. I stumbled back, tearing my hand away as if burned. Mama Crist rushed in, her face brightening as she hugged me tightly. "You made her move! Her heart beats for you. It always has."

I wanted to believe her so badly. But as I stood in that room, the reality washed over me like ice. Avery's heart might be beating, but she had already chosen. And her heart wasn't mine anymore.

Only Jaxon's mom and I stayed by her side every day. The others—they were drifting back to their lives, inching forward, the way people do when they're ready to let go. But not me. I knew I'd never move on from Avery. She was stitched into me, haunting my thoughts, filling every quiet space.

Avery was like a fragile, flickering light in a world that leaned too far into shadows. She wasn't just any kind of light—the kind you switch on and off, forgetting the way it illuminates a corner of the room. No, Avery Raven was more like a lantern on a storm-beaten ship, cancelling each wave, every shit, fighting to stay alive, to keep burning against all odds. When she walked into a room, even the darkest spaces softened, like they wanted to catch that glow and hold it close. Avery's light wasn't just brightness; it was warmth, the kind that sinks into your bones and somehow makes you feel whole, even when everything else is falling apart.

She was so bright yet so broken.

But her light had a limit. Every spark and smile, every piece of herself she gave to the people around her, was borrowed energy. She poured out her brightness to everyone, without ever holding enough back for herself, burning the candle at both ends. She would give you all of it—the laughter, the reckless joy, the way she'd turn the simplest moments into something memorable, something that mattered. But it took a toll. Her batteries—her very essence—were wearing thin, fading under the weight of the world and everyone else's expectations.

And when the light in her finally started to wane, it wasn't just her slipping away. It was everything she touched, every part of life she'd ever lit up. If Avery faded, that brightness would go with her, leaving nothing but a cold, hollow darkness in its place.

You couldn't just replace it, couldn't just flip a switch and expect the same warmth, the same color. No one could ignite that unique glow she had. Trying to recreate it would be like capturing fire in your bare hands—it would slip away, leaving only the memory of what it once was.

Avery Raven was a rare light, and the thought of her fading—of that light going out forever—felt like the world itself would grow cold and lose its meaning. Without her, it would be like stumbling through shadows, forever haunted by the memory of a glow you could never bring back.

Avery was the light everyone needed in their darkness.