The argunt eventually lost its fire, dying down into dull, bitter embers. The voices blurred, their words dissolving into the heavy silence that followed.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, staring at nothing.
A parasite.
The word curled in my mind, seeping into every hollow space, filling them with sothing heavy and cold.
"A parasite," I muttered, the word leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
I let out a soft chuckle. Empty, self-deprecating.
Maybe Dorian was right.
Maybe I was nothing more than sothing clinging onto this house, this family. Sothing that never truly belonged.
I barely noticed when my feet started moving, slow and chanical.
The entrance stretched around , dark and cold, its walls pressing in with its walls. The floor creaked beneath my weight, a quiet, pitiful sound.
I pressed a hand against the wooden fra of the door, but my fingers felt numb. My breath hitched in my throat as I swallowed against the lump forming there, thick and unmoving.
I didn’t realize I was shaking until I saw my reflection in the darkened window.
A faint, distorted image stared back at , a hollow-eyed thing, barely holding itself together. Different from my earthly counterpart.
I lifted a hand, pressing my fingers against the glass, tracing the outline of my face. A stranger stared back at . Soone I didn’t recognize.
Was that really ?
I curled my fingers into a fist, pressing it against my chest as if that could stop the ache blooming there. But it didn’t. It only spread, deeper, heavier, curling into my body.
I wanted to run.
Run until the cold bit at my skin, until the wind howled loud enough to drown out the words echoing in my head.
But I had nowhere to go.
Nowhere that I wouldn’t still be what he said I was.
I sucked in a sharp breath, but it felt wrong. My lungs ached, like they didn’t want to hold onto the air anymore. Like maybe I shouldn’t be breathing at all.
A parasite.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Maybe he was right.
My legs moved before my mind could catch up.
I just wanted to go… Away from that house, away from those words still ringing in my head.
I didn’t know where I was going. I just needed to move. The pavent beneath my feet uneven and rough, but none of it mattered. The further I got, the lighter my chest felt, as if distance alone could peel away the weight of those words.
"Brother!"
A hand latched onto my wrist, yanking back.
Nora.
She clung to , her fingers tightening around my arm like she was afraid I'd vanish if she let go.
Her eyes, usually so bright, were wide with panic, searching my face for sothing, maybe for so form of reassurance. So proof that I wasn’t about to do exactly what I was thinking of doing.
"You-" Her breath hitched. "You can't leave. You're not thinking straight."
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to et her gaze. "Nora, I-"
"You can't leave," she cut in, her grip tightening, nails pressing against my skin. "Don’t say things like that. Not like this. I can’t- I won’t let you go."
I swallowed hard, the words lodged in my throat.
"You know what I am to you," I said instead, my voice barely above a whisper. Sorrowful.
"I’m the reason you couldn’t go to school. I’m the reason-" I hesitated, feeling sothing tighten in my chest. "This is what you are now. Because of ."
She shook her head violently, strands of hair whipping across her face. "Stop it! Just- just stop talking like that!"
Her breathing turned shallow, her fingers trembling as they clutched at my sleeve, pulling closer, like she was trying to tether to the ground.
"I won’t let you go," she whispered, almost to herself. "I won’t. You think you can just leave? You think I’ll just let that happen?"
Her nails dug in deeper, her body pressing against mine, desperate, possessive.
"You don’t get to leave , Markus. You can’t."
I tried to pry her fingers off, but she only tightened her grip, her knuckles turning white.
“Nora,” I pleaded, forcing my voice to stay calm. “This isn’t right. You know it isn’t. I need to go- I need to fix things.”
“Fix what?” she snapped, eyes glistening. “You think leaving will fix anything? That it’ll make things better? For who, brother? For ?”
I opened my mouth, but she wasn’t done.
“You think you’re bad for ? You think you’re the problem?” Her voice cracked, shaking as much as her hands. “If you go, I’ll- I’ll never forgive you.”
I sucked in a breath. “Nora, please-”
She didn’t let finish. She yanked forward, pulling flush against her, arms wrapping around in a grip that was anything but gentle. Warmth enveloped , but it wasn’t comforting.
Her grip loosened just slightly, her fingers brushing against my back as if tracing mories into my skin.
“Brother…” Her voice was softer now, almost fragile.
“Do you rember when we were kids? How you used to console every night, keeping warm in your embrace? How you used to take care of . How you were always there for …
She paused, her breaths rapid shallow gasps, until she finally drew in one big, deep breath.
“You thought you didn’t belong anywhere, but to … you’re the most precious thing I’ve ever had.”
I clenched my jaw.
She pulled back just enough to look at , her eyes glassy with sothing raw and desperate. “Rember when I got sick that winter, and you stayed up all night with ? You kept telling to go sleep, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t. Then you’d press cold cloths to my forehead, make sure I ate, stayed awake all night just to make sure I was still breathing.”
I shouldn’t waver now.
Her lips quirked up, but it wasn’t a smile- it was sothing else, sothing brittle. “You were the only one who ever cared that much. I can’t, I can’t live with you anymore brother… Markus.”
A parasite.
Her grip tightened. “You promised, Markus. You promised you’d always be there. That’d you’d always choose first. That I wouldn’t be alone.” Her voice cracked, and for a second, she sounded like that sa fragile girl from all those years ago, the one who used to cling to like I was the only thing keeping her alive.
I shook my head. “I-I didn’t an for it to be like this. This isn’t-”
“This isn’t what?” she whispered. “What’s wrong with wanting to stay by your side? You took care of for so long, Markus. So why-” Her voice faltered, sobbing, “why… why do you want to leave now?”
I looked away, forcing down the guilt clawing at my throat. “Nora. You’re grown now. You shouldn’t-” I exhaled sharply, willing myself to stay firm. “You shouldn’t need like this.”
Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.
Then, finally, she let out a quiet breath, sothing slow, almost lancholic.
“You really won’t change your mind, will you?”
I didn’t answer.
She exhaled again, slower this ti, then rested her forehead against my shoulder. I could feel the warmth of her breath against my collarbone, the way her fingers trembled against my arms.
“Then… at least listen to my last request.”
I hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “…Okay.”
Nora didn’t waste a second. She took my hand, her grip firm… unrelenting. She pulled away from the house, away from the voices that had long since faded into an empty hush. I let her. I didn’t ask where we were going. So part of already knew.
The night air felt colder the farther we walked. The trees lood taller, their branches stretching overhead like a web. Leaves crunched under our feet, the only sound between us. I focused on the way she held my hand, clutching and loosening her grip with each step, as if to ensure I was still there.
And then, there it was.
The hollow space beneath the rock was still there, half-hidden in the underbrush, just as it had always been. Once, we fit perfectly inside, curling into each other for warmth on nights when there was nowhere else to go. But now, we had grown too much. The space remained small, unchanged. Only we were different.
Nora knelt down, running her fingers over the rough surface of the stone. There was sothing almost reverent in the way she touched it. My chest tightened.
“Do you rember?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
I stayed silent.
She let out a quiet breath, her fingers still tracing the stone. “I do,” she murmured.
“I rember everything about that night. The cold, the pain… how I was sure I wouldn’t wake up the next morning.” Her head tilted slightly, her gaze flicking to , dark with sothing unreadable. “But I did. Because of you.”
I swallowed hard.
Her hand curled into a fist against the rock. “That was the night you gave life, Markus. The night you saved .” She shook her head, her voice thick with emotion.
Before I could react, she lunged at , tackling with enough force to knock the breath from my lungs. Her arms locked around , squeezing so tightly it almost hurt.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t leave .”
She was shaking. I could feel it. The raw desperation clung to her, bleeding into every inch of her hold.
And then she kissed .
A parasite.
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