Alive

18

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~~~~~~⚫️Chapter 18⚫️~~~~~~
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Koda worked silently, his hands steady as he pried the bullets from my skin, each one clinking onto the floor with a sound that felt strangely final. His eyes were focused, intense, and for once he was completely serious, no hint of the usual teasing in his gaze. He didn't look up, not until he'd removed the last bullet, his fingers brushing lightly against my skin in a touch that felt both comforting and painful.

Then he paused, his hand lingering for just a moment before he pulled back. "You... died, Aisha." His voice was barely above a whisper, rough and thick with something I couldn't quite identify. "I thought it was all my fault."

The words hit me like a punch, and I froze, my mind struggling to process what he'd just said. "I... what?" My voice was a shaky whisper, and I stared at him, waiting for an explanation, a reason for why he'd say something so impossible.

But he didn't answer. Instead, he stood up, his face hardening as he turned away from me, a wall going up between us so fast it left me breathless. I reached out, grabbing his arm, feeling the sting of desperation clawing at me. "Koda, wait. Tell me what you mean. How... how did I die?"

He shook off my hand, his jaw tight as he moved toward the door, his steps purposeful, determined. Panic gripped me, and I scrambled to follow him, every step painful as my body protested. "Koda!" I called out, my voice louder, sharper. "Don't just walk away! Tell me how it happened!"

He didn't stop. His stride only grew faster, heading straight for the gate, his back rigid, his posture screaming with tension. I pushed myself to keep up, ignoring the stinging ache in my wounds. "Koda, please!" I shouted, my voice echoing across the quiet camp. "You can't just say that and leave me like this!"

My voice drew attention. People turned, curious and wary, their gazes following us. Among them, an older man with striking white hair and a full beard stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he watched the scene unfold. But I didn't care about the stares or the whispers. My focus was on Koda, and the burning need for answers.

Finally, Koda stopped, his whole body tense. He turned slowly, and for the first time, I saw something dark and raw in his eyes, something that sent a chill down my spine. His voice, usually laced with a teasing edge, rose, low and otherworldly, filled with barely contained anger. "Just drop it, Aisha," he snapped, his tone cold, final. "I saved your life. We're even. Leave it at that."

I took a step back, startled by the intensity in his voice, but a surge of anger and frustration rose up to meet it. "Even?" I shot back, my voice trembling with emotion. "You can't just tell me I died and then refuse to explain. I deserve to know what happened! I deserve to know the full story!"

Koda's face twisted, a brief flicker of something like hurt flashing across his expression before it hardened into a cold mask. He looked at me, his gaze piercing, cutting through me like ice. "Maybe you should've stayed dead," he said, his voice sharp and unyielding.

The words hit me like a slap, leaving me breathless, stunned. I stared at him, my chest tight, a wave of emotions crashing over me—confusion, anger, a deep, aching hurt that left me feeling hollow.

He held my gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark and distant. And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the shadows, leaving me standing there, alone, surrounded by the weight of unanswered questions.

I could feel the eyes of the others on me, their murmurs echoing in the air, but all I could think about was the words he'd left hanging in the silence, the cold, final edge in his voice that cut deeper than any wound.

Maybe you should've stayed dead.