Page 11 of Oblivion
“Have you ever heard of Judah Blackwood?”
“Heard?” I laughed bitterly. “Indy, that guy should’ve been killed a long time ago. I’ve met him and I would like to say it was pleasant, but it wasn’t.”
“Well, I agree with you, but here’s the thing. There’s this guy Lars who contacted us, and he has information on Judah and The Syndicate. There’s this kid, Ash, and I’m going to have to help him.”
“Have to?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I don’t know, it’s just this feeling in my gut. But that’s why I’m going to have to head South for a couple of days, and I wanted you to know.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because no matter what, I think you’re the only person able to bring Storm back. Ophelia, we need him back.”
3
OPHELIA
I usedto believe in miracles when I was a kid. You know, the fairytale ones, the magical fountains and wishes coming true, where the main characters ended up living happily ever after, because that magical well gave them what their heart truly desired.
I wished I could still believe in those things. Maybe then I would be able to cross the threshold of Storm’s room and go to him, because my heart would still believe in miracles. But life taught me that miracles existed only in fairytales, and that good things happened only in movies.
In real life, the prince died, the princess never opened her eyes, and the kingdom crumbled down like a house of cards.
Storm’s chest rose and fell steadily. All the bruises and scrapes that were visible on his face a month and a half ago were already healed. His eyes were closed, face relaxed, and I wanted to imagine that he was simply sleeping, resting after another busy day. But he wasn’t.
I hated the smell of antiseptic in this fucking place, the plain, white walls, the machines beeping rhythmically with every new beat of his heart. I despised seeing him like this, powerless, weak, when his enemies circled, closing in on us.
We all fucking needed him to open his eyes, to tell me to shut my mouth and to set my head straight. I wouldn’t even mind his hate if only I got to experience his touch one more time.
Realistically, I knew he would wake up, it was just a matter of time—at least that’s what the doctors said. But I wasn’t known for my patience, and one and a half months was a helluva long time.
The silence was deafening as I slowly crossed the length of the room and stopped at his bedside. How was it possible to miss a person so much when they were still right in front of you?
I missed his touch, his smiles, his wicked sense of humor, even the times when he called me out on my shit, because someone had to. I missed our fights, the way he understood me better than anybody else, and most of all, I missed feeling his love.
I was always on the run, from people, from emotions, from anything that could make me weak, and he knocked me off my feet and made me love him. I never even got to say it out loud. If I said it right now, he never would’ve believed me.
“Storm,” I whispered, taking his hand in mine. I pulled the chair that was always placed next to his bed closer and sat down. “I miss you, Stormy.” I chuckled brokenly. “I miss everything about you. If this is your way of telling me to fuck off, it isn’t funny.”
I traced my finger over the ink on his hands, going up his arm, praying for some kind of response.
“I know you’re a stubborn little shit, but this has gone on for longer than necessary, don’t you think? Open your eyes, love. Please,” I murmured, feeling the tears trickling down my cheeks.
I thought I'd cried enough in the very beginning, when we didn’t know if he would live or die, but every single time I sat here, I couldn’t help myself.
“We need you back,” I said. “I need you. I can’t do this without knowing that you will be fine. Please,” I begged. “Please, open your eyes. I know you hate me now and I know I deserve it, but I will always love you. Forever and always, Storm. That’s what I promised and I’m not going back on my promise. So stop this, darling. Stop this nonsense and come back to us.”
I squeezed his hand with both of mine, my entire body trembling.
“I am sorry for everything I did. You will never know how sorry I am. I know it isn’t an excuse, but I’m not built like you. I didn’t know how to let you in, how to show you the things I feel. I know I deserve this agony, this pain, but you don’t have to punish the rest of them.” I took a deep breath and started talking again. “Indigo needs you. He’s lost without you, and I’m afraid he’ll do something that will get him killed. Atlas…” I trailed off. “I have no idea what’s going on with him because he doesn’t want to tell me, but I’m worried about him. I worry about them all.”
Yet no matter how much I talked, no matter how many times I told him I loved him, no matter how many sorrys I uttered, he never woke up.
Maybe Indigo was wrong after all.
I stood up and brought my face closer to his. “I love you, Storm. I love you more than you could ever imagine, and I’m sorry I was the one you decided to keep.” I pressed my lips against his forehead, closing my eyes.
I prayed in my head, pushing my energy, my everything, to him, through that one simple kiss.
