thunderstruck | book #2 | discontinued

X X X I V

Remy had hidden herself under her duvet covers. She had cried too much and now she only felt numb, her stinging eyes staring into the darkness hidden beneath her bedsheets. She was just thankful that her mother had not been home when she'd gotten back. The house was so quiet that Remy could hear her own heart pounding in her chest--that was, until she heard a knock at the door.

She ignored it at first, sinking deeper into her mattress. Then, the knock grew louder and she sighed, pulling herself up and wiping her cheeks free of any smudged makeup.

"Remy," she heard him call as she forced her legs to carry her down the hallway. Her stomach turned to water; she recognised his voice immediately. He hadn't left yet. He had come back. "Open the door, please. I know you are here."

She quickened her pace, pausing reluctantly at the door. She shouldn't open it, not after the way he had treated her. She should have been stronger, like Sarah said she was. Only she wasn't strong at all when it came to him, and she never would be. She opened the door.

Worry wavered in her chest when she saw him. He looked exhausted, his blue eyes glistening wearily and his brows furrowed in a permanent frown. He was slouching against the door frame, his hands in his pockets as though he was a teenage boy and not the warlock she knew. The smell of smoke caught the back of Remy's throat and she coughed.

She supposed she did not look much better herself. She had thrown on an oversized sweater and joggers and cried any makeup she'd had on away. His eyes reflected her own concern and he stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him. His eyes never left her.

"What do you want?" she asked tiredly, leading him to her bedroom. Her brothers and sisters would be coming home from school soon and the last thing she needed was for her mother to throw another fit in front of them or call the police again.

"I couldn't leave," he said, his voice weak as they reached her bedroom. She waited for him to come in and then shut the door behind him.

It felt odd having him here. She had been in his room dozens of times and yet he had never been in hers. Her plain furniture and floral walls were too normal, too mortal, compared to him. It felt as though everything she had ever been was on display in front of him, proving to him that she was just as mortal as he had thought.

She shuffled uncomfortably before her eyes fell to the floor. She couldn't look at him anymore. It didn't feel real to have him here. For half a second, she even wondered if it was, or if it was just some silly fantasy she was making up in her head.

"Why not?" she sighed finally, making her bed to give her hands something to do. Her back was to him and she was glad for it. "You don't belong here, remember?"

"I am sorry."

Remy straightened up, turning to look at him in surprise. She had never expected an apology, not from him. She had always thought he was too stubborn. He didn't look stubborn now, though. He looked shattered, as though someone had scraped out vital pieces of him and now he could barely stand without collapsing.

"I should not have said those things. I was ..."

"You were right." She gulped, feeling her composure hardening as the anger returned. "You don't belong here. You're not a mortal. You're a warlock. You get to leave whenever you want while I stay here, waiting for death, waiting for you. Do you know what that's like?"

"Do you think it is easy for me in Astracia?" His voice rose, his cheeks flushing with colour. "Do you not think that I hate this as much as you do? I think of you always, Remy. I wish you would understand that."