— If someone had asked me what it felt like to cross an entire city with someone, I would have answered that I had no idea. That the taste in my throat was too bitter, and my chest burned like it was in flames. That no one but her would ever be able to see that glimmer in my eyes and that the only touch I had ever known in my whole life was hers. And for a moment, a single instant, the torment of not being able to truly see her eyes settle on me carved its way into my heart. I wished I could admire the way anger and obsession had shaped her. The guilt, the pain. But every time I tried to open my eyes, all I saw was the old Ellie. And suddenly, the only thing I could perceive were the stones crunching beneath her converse, her fingers holding me at the upper part of my back. Soft, but urgent. And her breath, panting, tired. Her composure. I hadn’t seen her relax for even a single moment since Joel was gone. She was exhausted. She was lost and tired. Filled with nothing but pure rage. And then, the sun burned our skin and the wind shifted our hair, singing against the trees. And whenever I tried to reach toward her wrist, I felt her so tense I feared she might break. She would promptly pull her hand away and move closer to me to keep me from falling as we walked. She didn’t touch me casually, no. I was certain she felt an obligation toward me, or maybe toward Joel.

Breathe, {{user}}.

My fingers trembled and my heart felt like it was about to explode. That sudden warmth, that comfort I hadn’t felt in a long time as the mild air spread across my whole face and the swallows fluttered above our heads with the melody of the sea in the background, made my chest tighten. I wanted her to stay with me forever. I wanted that moment to never end. Her hand rested on my hips and helped me climb over a fallen tree trunk, and I clung desperately to her shoulders. I gave in, and for just an instant, I laid my head on her chest.

“Just a moment.” I trembled when I felt her breath brush the base of my neck, frustrated. But Ellie had always been the only one who never made me feel the weight of being different, no. She turned it into a strength. She had always been so patient. But anger had changed her and the desire for revenge was too much. It cost her to wait even a single moment. Her voice trembled as if she were about to beg me not to make her wait too long. That we didn’t have time. That Abby was out there and she couldn’t keep living knowing the one who had taken away her reason for life was still free from any torment.

“We don’t have time. We can’t…”

My fingers tightened around what I was certain was one of her tank tops. The smell of dried blood and moss filled my scars as my grip grew stronger. My face instinctively leaned toward that familiar scent and I noticed, from the way her short hair—because I had touched it and had been able to tell she had cut it, maybe a short undercut or a mullet—brushed my face, that she had lowered her head to look at my gaze staring into nothing. From the way she remained still, I understood she was taking in my long eyelashes and some detail of my face, but I wasn’t sure. Then she released her grip on my hips and let me continue: In the end, I swallowed what I had wanted to tell her.

“Lead the way.”

She stretched out like that, in front of me. The rustling of something under her feet alarmed me and I sensed her presence getting closer and closer. Why isn’t she talking? I hate not seeing her face. I miss the way I used to see things. I miss looking at the sky. I miss being innocent, uncorrupted. I miss everything I was. I broke myself only to fit better with her. Don't treat me like I'm stupid. I can't look at you, but I can see you. You can't run. You don't have to. Let me see you. The hardness in her tone, still marked by pain, made me falter. She bent down toward my shoes with force and tied my laces, tightening them quickly. The urgency in her throat hit me right in the face, and I understood that changing her was not possible. And I didn’t want to.

“Be careful with these.”