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𓃮 Inayah's pov 𓃮
I don't even realize I'm crying until I taste salt on my lips.
My hands won't stop shaking, they're not listening to me. Nothing is.
It's like my body and my mind have detached, drifting in opposite directions, and I'm just stuck in the middle, too tired to pull them back together.
I sit there, hugging my knees into my chest, fingers digging into the fabric of my clothes because if I let go, I don't know what will happen. Maybe I'll fall apart completely.
Maybe I'll shatter.
Maybe I'll disappear altogether and nobody will even notice.
My breath hitches and stutters and I can't catch it properly.
The room is too big, walls are too far away.
Everything is spinning, everything hurts, and I can't make it stop.
I miss him.
Alot.
I miss him so much that it feels like my bones are hollowing out from the inside.
My baby brother.
His laughter, his small hands grabbing mine, the way he would trail after me like my shadow, trusting me without even thinking about it.
He thought I could protect him. He thought I would always be there for him as his polar bear.
He didn't know...
I press the heels of my palms against my eyes, desperate to block it out, desperate not to see his face, not to hear his voice in the back of my head calling out for me.
"Didu."
My chest collapses in on itself as I double over, trying to breathe, trying to exist, but it hurts too much. It's like drowning inside my own body.
Unhurried footsteps echoes near me.
I don't lift my head, I don't have the strength.
I hear him before I see him.
Samarth.
His voice slices through the silence, sharp and clean like a scalpel.
"Look at you," he says, and there's no kindness in it. "Falling apart so easily. I almost feel sorry for you."
I don't answer.
I can't.
He lets out a soft laugh, like he finds this amusing. "You love it, don't you? Being the broken one. The victim. It's your favorite game."
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, wishing I could disappear into the floor.
"You sit there, crying, shaking, expecting everyone to feel bad for you," he says, his tone low, cruel. "Poor Inayah. Poor, innocent, helpless Inayah."
