Chp 37
Zyra POV I don't go back to bed. What's the point? The sheets would just feel like lead anyway. I stand by the window, staring at the blurred shape of the neighbor's fence, my own fingers digging into my ribs. I'm trying to hold the air in my lungs, trying to keep from splintering. It's not working.. My pulse is still a mess, not slamming against my ribs like it was, but heavy. Stubborn. And that warmth hasn't left yet; I can feel it humming under my skin, low and irritating and entirely uninvited. I shut my eyes, just for a second, trying to blink the heat away. "This is so stupid," I mutter to the empty walls. I rake my fingers through my hair and make it halfway across the floor before I just… stop. My legs won't even finish the lap. He just left. Like nothing happened, like he didn’
- Writer
