Edit 27th Feb. 2020: Changed some details.
„…This will never happen to us, right?"
The pool of blood grew around them. Her eyes were still open. The bullet in his head bothered him a bit.
"Don't leave me…"
"I won't. I won't."
Her body was so cold.
Silence.
Too much silence.
John Shepard opened his eyes.
His room was quiet. Nothing moved. Not even he.
Maybe it was just a dream. A good one.
He wasn't sure. His brain wasn't willing to remember.
Turn your head to the right. You'll get the answer.
He didn't want to turn his head anywhere. It was so comforting to lay there in happy ignorance.
LOOK.
He slowly turned his head to the right.
Fucking hell.
He suddenly felt a knot in his stomach. Existing became a burden. He felt as if he had murdered someone. Or rather something; his peace of mind.
Have you ever had such a thing?
As much as he had wanted to stay in his bed a few seconds earlier, now he really wanted to get out. He sat up.
Jane was sleeping, hugging his blanket, facing him.
She fell asleep like that?
He stared at her, and his chest slowly became heavy.
You thought it would be better?
He was sure of only two things; that he had helplessly fallen in love with Jane, and that he was completely screwed.
His eyes wandered from her face to her body. He spotted a small bruise on her neck. Another bruise on her body.
That's your fault.
He just needed to get away. Escape his room, and…
And what?
Maybe jump out of the window.
That would be a spectacular death.
He slowly climbed out of the bed, careful not to wake Jane.
He had to do something. Anything. Whatever was capable of making him forget what he had done and what he felt.
Alcohol. Lots of alcohol. That will do.
He looked at his clock. He still had around twelve hours until work.
Only one hour passed..?
He quickly grabbed some clothes and went outside his room to dress up.
Jane opened her eyes.
John was gone.
Of course he was.
She could hear the entrance door close behind someone.
Damn it.
A shudder passed over her as she remembered what happened not long ago.
It might have been wrong…but she enjoyed it.
With your stepbrother…
She bit her lower lip.
What future did their relationship have? She was not simply John's stepsister anymore.
And you'll never ever be again…
She buried her face in the pillow. Her life suddenly became very complicated.
She is twenty.
They are both sitting on the couch, drinking tupari and having snacks.
"She cried for an hour" Jane says. "It freaked me out…"
"I can imagine… if your own twin brother hits you… that's bound to hurt. I mean, not just literally," John replies.
"I can't believe him… at least he moved out later that day. Though… that won't make it easier for Tilda, or her family."
"It probably won't end just like that," John sighs. "That would be too easy."
She gazes at him with a strange expression.
"What is it?" he asks.
"I just… this will never happen to us, right?"
"What?" John grunts, "I'd never lay a hand on you!"
"Nooo, not that!" she exclaims. "I mean that… that we'll never come to hate each other."
"Why would we?" he asks, looking concerned.
"Well… stuff can happen, right?"
He stares at her absently for a few seconds before answering.
"If I ever become a jerk, you have my permission to kick my ass."
She chuckles.
"Okay, I'll remember that…"
She couldn't tell how long she laid on the bed. Minutes? An hour?
Eventually, she got up. She looked around for her nightdress, but she could not see it anywhere and she wasn't in the mood to start crawling on the floor to find it. Instead, she grabbed John's towel from his chair, wrapped it around herself and stepped out of the room.
Complete silence. Nothing but the sound of her own breathing.
She felt very alone.
She walked down to the first level, unconsciously hoping that she might find John there. She only found the empty kitchen. She stood there, trying to collect her thoughts.
He is probably out somewhere... He's going to do something stupid. He used to do stupid things whenever he had problems.
She wondered if it would do any good if she'd go after him. Could she even find him?
A sudden rush of anger clouded her brain.
Why does he have to be so impulsive?!
She buried her face into her palms. She has to find him.
What are you going to tell him?
She had no idea.
You'll tell him that you love him? Or that you two just have to forget everything and continue your lives as if nothing happened?
She wasn't even sure of her own feelings.
You love him. You just never admitted it to yourself.
The truth did not help her in any way.
She stood in the kitchen for another five minutes before she finally ran up to her room to get dressed.
You'll figure out what to do when you find him.
Or maybe it's a mistake.
Whatever.
She checked herself in the mirror before stepping to her closet.
The bruise on her neck immediately caught her attention.
His warm breath on her shoulder... She can feel all of his muscles straining as she runs her fingers around his body. His hips pushing against hers... He is strong.
She feels so happily helpless under him, letting him conquer her body inch by inch.
His teeth on her neck... She likes what he's doing…
She needs him. More than anyone else.
She opened her eyes and only then did she realize she closed it in the first place.
Already getting lost in memories?
She shook her head in an attempt to get those thoughts out of her mind and looked at the bruise again.
Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the apartment building in black ankle boots, black pants and a long-sleeved, dark green top that had a zip on its left side. It covered her neck too.
She froze as she saw others walking around on the street.
What's your problem…?
She felt uncomfortable. Sounds were suddenly annoying. The people were annoying.
Probably because you are tired…
She took a deep breath and started walking towards the place that John visited the last time he wanted to forget something.