The Start of Sam and Grace's Forever

by Refulgent

Spoilers! When it seemed like everything was going to be ok for Grace and Sam and they would finally be able to stop worrying about the weather, the temperature starts to mess things up between them again. But now, Sam's summer girl is the one at risk. After the end of Linger, this is a brief description of what I thought the beginning of Forever could be like from Grace's P.O.V.

I saw his yellow eyes from afar and, for reasons that no longer existed in my mind, I knew they were sad, I simply knew it. And when they looked towards me I felt my heart heat up in the middle of that gelid climate. He was familiar; by night, his shadow was projected through the window and I felt something poking at the back of my mind. It seemed like I knew every one of his movements ― could even predict them ― and his smell wafted up to me through the dry winter air referring to memories that my mind could no longer weave, moments that had been stripped from me, parts of me that were loosened with my skin.

The words escaped me like water trickling through my fingers. Ironically, I had never before felt so humanly frustrated. It was as if something scratching inside of me was trying to get out and I didn't even know what it was.

And then I felt the pain, burning in the center of me. I was not sure if it burned like fire or ice, perhaps both. I wanted; I craved the presence of that human. But I didn't understand why. I was missing something that was unknown to me, something that eluded me and I could not reach, but that was always there. It was the remembrance of a previous life, misty and blurred, of which the only thing I could see were random rays of sunshine that pierced the fog. I missed a life that no longer belonged to me.

I wanted to approach him. I wondered how it would feel like to have his hands on me and the desire was so strong that I felt physically compelled to leave my hiding place to get a taste of the danger. I even took a few steps, but then stopped. My instincts kept telling me it was not allowed, I should not do it, I could not do it. And then there was a pain even bigger. I was tearing from inside out, torn between the extreme desire, greater than all my others, and the fear of getting hurt. But wasn't I already bleeding?

So I lingered in this immutable position: never getting closer, but never able to pull away. I sang with the others my pain having as my only comfort the certainty that he would hear it. That was enough.

Eventually, following the natural cycle of things, time passed, snow fell, vegetation was frozen and changed. Only I remained the same: forgotten by myself, lost of myself, alone on the edge of the forest gloom.

But he didn't forget me, and, in the end, this made all the difference.