Hollows In Time (✔️) | 'Hollows' Book Ⅱ

Chapter One-Hundred: Part One

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H o l l o w s I n
T I M E
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T h e  E n d:
Denouement
Part One/Three

At the end of the day, what's more important? Your freedom, or your life? For, without your life, you'd never be able to accomplish freedom. But then, are you really living if you do not have freedom?

—anon: 01/01/18

My hair whipped around me, cutting into my face as it every-so-often lashed against it. The crisp, winter morning air chilled my bones, just as today's events would chill everyone else's.

No one would be hurt. We made sure of that whilst pulling together the plan. But anything could go wrong whilst you're trying to pull off something so complex.

Hands were pressed against my shoulders, squeezing, trying to share comfort with me. I reached up, placing my right hand over his left, applying the same pressure to his hand in return.

We were stood at the brink of a war, of a revolution—on the edge of the past, of which we lost. A moment in time so precious, and here we were again. On the top of the hill, standing opposite the once blossomed tree, which was now just a frame of what it used to be. It had no blossom, it had no leaves, but it still stood. It was everlasting.

Jameson moved to obscure my vision of the tree, taking my hands in his.

"Everything will be okay, I promise—you just have to trust me." He said, warming my heart as he pressed a sweet and quick kiss to my forehead.

"I do trust you." The words slithered out of my mouth like a languid lie. But I could've sworn it was true. So why did it sound wrong but feel right? Why did it come out like a lie when it was meant to be the truth? Jameson frowned. His thumb twitched, pausing near my eye. And that's when I realised what the problem was.

I was still hurting. And I was afraid to get hurt again, and again, and again, and again. Because I knew that if I was, I would never be the same again. I would never be fixed.

I let the vines around my heart wring and twist themselves around the organ. The thorns dug deep, and I let them. I couldn't stop the damage, but I could try to lessen it.

"I trust you." I echoed, but in a whisper. I sounded broken. And I was. I said I trusted him. And I did.

His frown relaxed. His thumb moved again. And I realised why.

"I trust you." I whispered again, sobs jarring my words oh so beautifully. My heart had begun to swell so much that it couldn't be contained, and love and hope started to leak out in crystal droplets, into my body and around my bloodstream. And it reached my eyes. I cried a love for everything I had once lost, and a hope for everything I wanted to reach.

I repeated those three words again and again, every time, my whisper sounded louder to the heart and quieter to the ears. I realised then that, although it was something I had valued once, trust was more precious than love. Because I've never heard three words that could throw you into danger, yet engulf you in a blanket of security, more times than you know.

And then, came the love. Jameson's eyes spoke everything, even when his voice told it all to me simultaneously.

"Sky," His thumb on my cheekbone.