— POV Avery
The cold.
That was the first thing I felt.
Hard.
Damp.
Uncomfortable.
I winced slightly before even opening my eyes.
Then—
the pain.
Diffuse.
In my muscles.
In my head.
As if I'd slept badly.
Or—
as if I'd fallen.
I finally opened my eyes.
The tile floor.
The bathroom.
I stayed still for a few seconds.
Letting my mind piece things back together.
— …?
Why was I here?
Lying on the floor.
I frowned slightly.
Then—
I shrugged vaguely.
I must have slipped.
Or fallen asleep.
No idea.
And strangely—
it didn't seem that important.
I sat up.
Slowly.
My legs trembled immediately.
— Ok…
A faint dizziness came over me.
I put a hand on the sink to steady myself.
The world swayed for a second.
Then settled.
I looked up at the mirror.
And winced.
— Wow…
I looked terrible.
Pale complexion.
Dark circles.
Hair in a mess.
I looked like—
I'd spent the night fighting something.
I tilted my head slightly.
Without really trying to understand.
— Alright…
I inhaled.
Then quickly undressed.
A shower would do me good.
---
The hot water ran over my skin.
And immediately—
everything felt… simpler.
Lighter.
A sigh escaped me.
My shoulders loosened.
My thoughts too.
And without really noticing—
I started to sing.
A vague tune.
Something I didn't even quite recognize.
But that came on its own.
Naturally.
As if—
everything was fine.
As if—
nothing had happened.
---
When I stepped out of the shower, steam covered the mirror.
I passed a hand across it.
And looked at my reflection.
This time—
it was fine.
Much better.
A faint smile stretched across my lips.
— There we go…
I dried off.
Got dressed.
Still humming.
As if carried by a strange energy.
Too light.
Too easy.
---
Walking back into my room—
I stopped.
For a second.
Something wasn't in its place.
My gaze landed on the bag.
Sitting there.
On the bed.
I frowned slightly.
— …?
I didn't remember picking it up.
Much less setting it down here.
A brief flutter.
Very brief.
Then—
I walked over.
Opened it.
Nothing.
Or at least—
nothing that really caught my attention.
I shrugged.
— I must have forgotten…
Yes.
That must have been it.
I closed the bag.
Without pressing the matter.
---
I left the room.
And ran straight into my brother in the hallway.
I looked him over for a second.
Then—
— Wow, damn, look at you.
He blinked.
— Looks like I've beaten your record for worst morning face.
— Hahaha, very funny (I said, drily). And you'd better go take a shower.
I made a face.
— You stink.
He sniffed himself.
— Not wrong…
Then he looked up at me.
More serious.
— But first, I've got something to show you.
He tried to grab my arm and pull me along.
I pulled free immediately.
— Oh no, no.
I raised a hand.
— Take a bath before you think I'm following you anywhere smelling like that.
I looked him up and down.
— I can't even imagine your room.
— It's important, Avery.
— Not a chance.
He stayed silent for a second.
Looking me up and down.
His expression shifted slightly.
— You okay?
I raised an eyebrow.
— And why wouldn't I be?
I smiled.
Naturally.
Effortlessly.
— You're acting weird.
I rolled my eyes with a sigh.
— I've always been weird to you, that's nothing new.
— No…
He shook his head slowly.
— But this… this is different.
A silence.
Short.
Strange.
Then—
I shrugged.
— Right.
I made a vague gesture with my hand.
— I'm not spending all morning out here.
I turned my back on him.
— See you later, little brother.
---
I went down the stairs.
Light.
Too light.
As if nothing had any weight.
As if—
everything was perfectly normal.
I walked into the kitchen.
— Morning!
My voice was cheerful.
Almost too much so.
I greeted everyone with a smile.
And yet—
somewhere.
Very far.
Very buried.
A feeling persisted.
A void.
A hole.
Something was missing.
But what—
I couldn't have said.
---
I took a slice of bread.
Then a second.
I slid them into the toaster without really thinking.
An automatic gesture.
Habitual.
While the machine did its work, I took out some fruit.
One by one.
Cut them.
Precisely.
Mechanically.
I didn't look up when I sensed his presence.
Gabriel.
— From the looks of it… you had a good night.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
— Yes.
My answer came immediately.
Cold.
Flat.
I kept cutting the fruit.
Without looking at him.
— So… how are you?
I felt him moving closer.
One step.
Then another.
— It would go better if you kept your distance.
Still just as cold.
The blade stopped for a fraction of a second before resuming.
— Ok.
He stepped back.
Slightly.
— Back to "vous" now?
— We're not close enough for me to use your first name.
I dropped the pieces into the blender.
One by one.
— Aver—
I snapped the lid shut.
The sound cracked through the kitchen.
I finally looked up at him.
— I told you not to call me that.
My gaze locked into his.
Hard.
Fixed.
— I can feel my good mood fading.
My voice dropped.
Almost a murmur.
But sharp.
— So take whatever you need to take…
I paused.
— And leave.
A thick silence settled.
Almost suffocating.
I pressed the blender button.
The noise filled the space.
Vibrating.
Aggressive.
But I could still feel his gaze on me.
Like prickling under the skin.
Insistent.
Unsettling.
I stopped the blender.
Abruptly.
Then looked at him again.
A dull anger rising in me.
— What is it?
I forced a smile.
A little too slow.
A little too controlled.
He didn't answer.
He was watching me.
Still.
As if searching for something.
Or someone.
Through me.
The irritation rose a notch.
I poured the juice into a glass.
Then brought it to my lips.
Ready to drink it down in one go.
— Avery… look at me.
I looked up.
Irritated.
— What?
— You really don't remember anything?
I frowned.
— What are you talking about?
A silence.
Too long.
— Yesterday.
My heart skipped.
Barely.
Almost imperceptibly.
But I shook my head.
— What should I remember?
My voice was assured.
Too assured.
I shrugged slightly.
— Let me think…
A humorless smile stretched across my lips.
— Oh right.
I looked at him.
— The fact that we met at the cemetery?
— Or the fact that a psychopath attacked me?
— Or that you showed up here afterward?
My voice rose.
Loaded with irritation.
— And that my mother announced we're leaving town?
I paused.
A beat.
— I remember everything.
My gaze hardened.
— Don't worry about it.
At that moment—
the toaster clicked.
Sharp.
Clean.
I turned away.
Took out the slices.
Set them on a plate.
Then turned to leave.
But—
a hand caught my arm.
And pulled me back.
— What the—
I didn't have time to finish.
His fingers came to take hold of my chin.
Firmly.
Not violently.
But with no way to escape.
He drove his gaze into mine.
Directly.
Without detour.
And for a second—
something in me wavered.
Barely.
Almost invisible.
Like a crack.
Very fine.
Then—
it closed again.
I held his gaze.
Without blinking.
Without stepping back.
Without understanding why—
I had no desire to look away.
---