Her eyes… I just need to see her eyes…
Her blood mixes in with the sheets, soaking them to the mattress. The scent of it is sickly sweet—it turns Ava’s stomach, but Ava has already emptied her stomach of it. The taste of it sticks to her tongue like a stain. The buzz of power makes her mind vibrate against the walls of her skull.
But none of it matters. Because she is there, and Ava would give anything to see her open those eyes.
And so, she hopes against all hope that the venom coursing through her veins is enough—that even one part of her is strong enough to undo what has been done.
The waiting is the worst part. Time ticks away against Ava’s temples, twisting her nerves into tangles upon tangles. She paces enough to burn a path in the wood of the apartment. There is nothing worse, however, than the telltale heart beating with the one fear that she has been burying for hours—
There she is, against the rocks and the sand, the ocean water beating against her body, washing the blood away even as it continues to flow. Her hair floats upon the water, as a mermaid swept upon the shore.
—that Ava was too late. That there was never any hope, and that hope—against all hope—was a mistake—is a mistake. Had the niggling voice at the back of her head been right all along? Was this her doing? For giving in, for allowing herself to interfere?
Her hands are so cold in Ava’s fingers despite all efforts to warm them up. She is still as the—
She bleeds onto Ava’s clothing. It can’t be too late. If only by sheer willpower, she will survive this. It is only a wound and wounds heal.
Dead silence has made a home of this empty nest. There is nothing to do but wait. And wait she does, as the hands on the clock tick away. If her team tries at all to contact her, Ava does not know. Her phone refuses to turn on. It does not matter; they’ll find her eventually. And she hopes she’ll have fixed this by then.
It has to work—must work.
If she only could… She could fix this—make it like it never happened. She has to try. It is only right that she tries. She is still soaking wet when Ava exposes her neck. She’s still warm, blood still pumping against all odds.
There is nothing she would not do to see those brilliant hazel eyes open. An eternity passes, and they do.