The Tearsmith: A Novel

I don’t want you without your demons,

without your faults or your darkness.

If our shadows can’t touch,

then our souls can’t either.

After quickly popping into a gift shop round the corner, I followed Rigel up to his apartment on the third floor.

There was no elevator, but the stairs were as polished as pearls. The stairway was well-lit and led to a large, dark wooden door. On the wall opposite, a brass nameplate shone with his name.

At least that was what I saw before he covered my eyes with his hand.

‘Are you peeking?’ he asked.

‘No,’ I replied, earnest as a child. I wished I could control my enthusiasm better. I was sure it was seeping like liquid light from my pores.

‘Don’t cheat,’ he admonished me, his shiver-inducing voice in my ears.

I smiled as he tickled me. I loved it when he let himself be playful and genuine. In those moments, Rigel showed me a side of himself that drove me crazy.

I searched for the keyhole with my fingers, with no help from him, but when I found it I had no difficulty in sliding in the key that he had passed me.

I opened the door and a burst of light filtered through his fingers.

‘Are you ready?’

I nodded, biting my lips, and then he lifted his hands away from my eyes.

Before me appeared a welcoming, bright room with a contemporary charm. The furniture was modern and simple, with cream tones that contrasted captivatingly with the shiny, dark wooden floor. Everything, from the window frames to the cushions on the couch matched the coffee-coloured parquet flooring in an elegant, deliberate style. I cautiously stepped inside, letting my eyes explore.

It smelt new and fresh. I glimpsed the door to his bedroom at the end of a small hallway, and my footsteps rang through into the kitchen, my favourite place in any house. For me, it was a room for sharing, chatter, guests and warmth. The bright colours complemented the natural light of the apartment. There was a spacious counter and the steel sink and stove gleamed with a delicate brightness.

It was stunning. It didn’t seem at all like a student apartment.

I turned towards Rigel with shining eyes, and only then noticed that he had been silently watching me all that time. Even though he was sure of himself, cutting and intimidating, in that moment he just seemed to want to hear my judgement.

‘It’s stunning, Rigel. I’m speechless. I love it so much,’ I smiled, enraptured. He looked at me with a strange emotion in his eyes.

My cheeks were tingling with happiness, and I started exploring the rest of the apartment, curious and excited. I could already picture him in those rooms, a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. I moved over to an elegant sideboard under the window and from the paper bag I had brought with me from the shop I pulled out a small plant with clusters of red flowers.

I knew that Rigel didn’t particularly like plants. He frowned at it.

‘What’s that?’ he asked, with a hint of displeasure.

I smiled, sensing that he found it unusual and a bit ugly.

‘Don’t you like it?’

From the sceptical way he looked at it, I knew the answer was No.

‘I haven’t got time to look after it,’ he replied, avoiding my question, and still a little put out at my sudden departure earlier. ‘It will die.’

‘It won’t die,’ I reassured him with a smile. ‘Trust me.’ I came closer to him, looking at him brightly. ‘Now…close your eyes.’

Rigel tilted his head and looked at me, intrigued, studying my every movement. He hadn’t expected that, and he was normally too suspicious to take orders from anyone. However, when I stopped in front of him, he decided to comply.

I lifted up his hand and opened his silky fingers. Then I placed in his hand a small, shining object, just as he had done with me.

Now it was my turn.

‘Okay, you can look now.’

Rigel opened his eyes and looked down.

In his hand there was a little wolf, carved out of a material as black and shiny as obsidian. It glistened in the light like an iridescent gemstone. There was something wild and special about that slender, running wolf. It was refined, unique. It had literally been love at first sight for me.

‘It’s a keyring. You could use it for your apartment keys,’ I told him.

‘A…wolf?’

I couldn’t tell whether he liked it or not.

‘It’s wild, solitary, and linked to the night. It’s wondrous, mysterious and strong. It made me think of you.’

Rigel lifted his eyes to me. My cheeks were burning, and I wondered whether maybe I had gone too far with my sincerity and naïve sweetness. But I had wanted him to see that, despite how he felt in that contentious role, I loved his wolf-like ways more than anything else.

Slightly embarrassed, I opened my handbag and pulled out a picture frame.

It was a photo of the two of us, on graduation day. I was hugging him, a smile bright in my eyes, and he must have been caught off guard because instead of looking at the camera, his eyes were lowered to look at me.

I loved that photo so much I had got it framed.

‘It’s my favourite photo,’ I stammered, blushing childishly. ‘But you don’t have to put it up, if you don’t want to. I thought you might like to have something of us to…’

‘Stay over tonight.’

His body invaded my space. His scent was intoxicating as he towered over me. I looked up to find him close, burning and bewitching.

‘Stay over…’ he repeated in a low whisper. ‘Fill the sheets with your smell. Leave your things about.’ His voice got deeper. ‘Put your shower gel in the bathroom. I want to find you there when I wake up…’

I was struggling to breathe. He put his hands on the sideboard behind me, trapping me. Even with time, I still hadn’t learnt to get used to him. He was no longer a boy, and it seemed as if nature had a precise plan to transform him into a bewitching, otherworldly angel. Sometimes I wished he would stop ageing, because the older he got, the more he held himself with a dominating self-assurance that could make any woman pale…

‘I promised Anna I’d go home for dinner with her…’ I whispered, as he slowly bit the skin under my jaw. He sucked gently and my body melted.

I sighed, forgetting what I had been saying, and Rigel put a hand on my throat, tilting my head to allow him to deepen the kiss.

Being shut in an apartment with him certainly wasn’t something I could complain about, but his intoxicating presence made it harder to keep my promises.

‘Rigel…’ I pursed my lips as he pressed even closer into me. His mouth moved slowly, burningly, behind my ear and his fingers slid into my hair, bending me to his will.

He was good at that.

Both what he did and what he said were very persuasive. And unfortunately he knew all too well how to use these powers to his advantage…

At that moment, I heard my phone ringing and jumped. Instinctively, I put my hands on his chest and Rigel stifled a husky, disgruntled moan.

He didn’t like it when someone interrupted his plans to slowly devour me.

‘I’ll bring my things over,’ I assured him sweetly, touching his neck. Rigel pulled away from me and I smiled. ‘But give me time.’

I left the photo frame in his hands. He looked at me with a frown, then lowered his black eyes to the photo of the two of us. Before I ran to pick up the phone, I saw him contemplating it in silence.

I rummaged in my bag, but by the time I had found my phone, it had stopped ringing. I saw there were three missed calls from Adeline, one after the other.

I wondered why she had been so persistent. That was unlike her. I checked to see if she had written a message, but seeing that she hadn’t, I decided to call her back.

I lifted the phone to my ear, but only had time to hear the first dial tone before a loud crash made me jump, my heart leaping to my throat.

I got a tremendous fright. Breathless, I dropped the phone and ran into the other room, where my eyes opened wide.

Rigel was leaning against the wall near the window, his muscles quivering and a chair upturned at his feet. He was violently gritting his teeth and his uncontrollably shaking arms were a tangle of nerves on the verge of exploding.

I stared at him, breathless and frightened.

‘What…’ I started to ask. I saw his clenched fists, his fingers gripping the photo frame violently. He was giving off a burning, neurotic tension. I gasped.

He was having an attack.

Rigel clenched his eyes shut, that invisible pain sending him into a terrifying frenzy. He fell to his knees, the glass shattered in his hands and the shards cut his skin, drawing blood. He put his head in his hands, convulsively digging his fingernails into his black hair. I trembled before him.

‘Rigel…’

‘Stay away!’ he screamed with a terrifying ferocity.

I stared at him, my heart in my throat, distressed by that reaction. His pupils were dilated, his face was so screwed up he looked almost unrecognisable.

He didn’t want me to see him in that state, he didn’t want anyone to see him, but I would never have left him alone. I tried to take a step towards him, but he screamed again.

‘I told you to stay away!’ he snarled like a beast.

‘Rigel,’ I whispered, defenceless and sincere. ‘You won’t hurt me.’

His feral eyes stared at me from under his dishevelled hair. In his pained, brutal gaze, I saw a screaming suffering that broke my heart.

I knew that his attacks could be dangerous for those around him, but I wasn’t scared for my safety. I slowly approached him, trying to show him I was defenceless, and he stared at me, panting. I was terrified of scaring him, of triggering an even more violent reaction, but slowly, the tremors waned, a sign that the attack was passing.

I had never seen one like this.

I reached him and sat down next to him. He avoided my gaze. I saw the nerves in his tense jaw, the vein throbbing in his temple, and imagined that his head was exploding.

With cautious, very gentle movements, I let my hands slide around his chest and hugged him from behind.

His heart was pounding madly. He was still shaking.

‘It’s okay, I’m here,’ I said, as softly as possible, knowing he found that tone of voice calming and reassuring.

He was digging his fingernails into his palms. I was scared he had hurt his head, but I didn’t move to check, not yet. He needed stillness and silence.

On the floor, the photo of us lay among bloody shards of glass. It was scratched and ruined. Rigel stared at the broken frame and shattered glass for a moment that seemed like an eternity.

‘I’m a disaster.’

‘A wonderful disaster,’ I specified.

I pressed my cheek against his back, radiating all my warmth to him.

‘You’re not a bad person. You’re not…don’t think that, not even for a minute,’ I said sweetly, and when he didn’t respond, I continued. ‘You know what the plant I brought you is? It’s an amaranth. Its name means “the unfading flower”. It’s immortal. Like my feelings for you.’

I smiled, closing my eyes.

‘It’s different from other flowers. It needs very little care, it looks unusual and it’s very enduring. It’s strong, just like you. And it’s unique, exactly like you.’

I didn’t know whether my words got through to him, but I wanted to make him see that, even though I couldn’t feel that pain with him, maybe it would be less unbearable if we faced it together.

‘Stop trying to make it out to be something special. I’ll never work well,’ he admitted to himself.

I knew how much his illness affected his psyche. The attacks didn’t only shake him physically, but they also damaged his mind. They twisted it. They generated resentment, feelings of inadequacy, and such an intense frustration that it made him renounce himself.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yes, it does,’ he whispered resentfully.

‘No, it doesn’t. And you know why?’ I asked softly. ‘Because I think you’re perfect as you are. I want every part of you, Rigel…even those you keep trying to hide. The most fragile and freakish parts. You’re not a bad person. You’re my adorable, complicated wolf…’

I was being over the top again, but seeing him so vulnerable made me want to protect him. I remembered when he was eighteen, the accident had almost taken him away from me. I had let myself fade away, unable to accept the thought of losing him. At the time, I was too young to realise how wrong that had been, but at that moment, I realised that I was prepared to give everything I had for him.

‘I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you…’ I looked up and planted a kiss on his shoulder, before resting my chin there. Then, after one last glance, I went into the bathroom and returned with what I needed.

This time I sat in front of him. I moistened some cotton balls with disinfectant and then tenderly saw to the cuts on his hands. I cleaned his skin, careful not to hurt him, and his eyes followed my every movement. Finally, after having disinfected the cut along his index finger, I pulled out the Band-Aids from my pocket and put one on his finger.

I chose a purple one, just like the one I had put over his heart many years ago. Maybe Rigel noticed, because he looked up into my eyes.

I smiled at him sweetly.

‘Let me see for you, because you don’t know how to see yourself.’

I kissed his hand, and before he could react, I came closer and nestled into his chest.

Rigel didn’t hold me. His hands were still shaking.

But his heart was with me.

Beating against mine.

And amidst those broken shards of glass, our souls took each other by the hand and walked under the stars.

Once again.

—

I stayed with him that night.

I told Anna what had happened and confessed that I didn’t want to leave him alone. The whole night, rather than sleeping, I stroked his hair and waited for his headache to subside. I suspected that that sudden attack was because of the stress of the last few months. What with private tutoring, his studies and other projects, Rigel had put himself under a lot of pressure that had repercussions on his health. That suspicion tormented me until the morning, when I went home, still infested by the thought of him.

I made myself some lunch, unable to stop thinking about the image of him with his head in his hands. I wished I could have reset my mind, rewound it like an old film, but I was destined to relive that moment and wonder what it must have been like for him to endure that pain all his life.

The doorbell rang, tearing me from my thoughts. I went to open the door, assuming it was Norman home for lunch, but I soon realised I was wrong.

It was Adeline. I instantly remembered the missed calls, and that I hadn’t called her back.

She stared at me, short of breath, and I brought a hand to my forehead.

‘Oh, Adeline, I…’

I was about to apologise, but there was an expression on her face I hadn’t seen in a long time. Too long. Something visceral and ancient resurfaced within me before she could even say anything.

‘Nica,’ she announced. ‘Margaret’s back.’

I must have been in another dimension. Everything suddenly seemed to stop existing. The air, the ground, the sun, the wind, my hand still on the door handle.

‘…What?’

‘She’s back.’ Adeline came in and closed the door behind her. ‘They arrested her at the airport. She’s here, Nica. Since two weeks ago.’

After Peter had denounced her three years ago, it had come to light that Margaret had left the country long ago. More precisely, when she had been fired from The Grave, without any investigations into her violent conduct.

At the time, we were scared that she had escaped prosecution, but Asia assured us that for serious crimes, such as abuse, the State of Alabama had no statute of limitations.

Margaret had not only committed a heinous crime, she had done it many times over several years, with extreme cruelty, causing lasting psychological damage. It didn’t matter how many years had passed. She had abused, humiliated and beaten children in her care, and not even time could erase what she had done.

‘She thought she could come back as if nothing happened. She didn’t know that someone had denounced her. As soon as she arrived, they arrested her.’

Adeline was speaking feverishly, but I could sense something underlying her agitation that I felt too: a mix of bewilderment, paralysis, vengeance and terror. I let her get it all out, because I was too overwhelmed to react.

She paced up and down the room, then turned to look at me, her heart in her eyes.

‘The trial is in a couple of days.’

I couldn’t process that information. I couldn’t believe I was there, experiencing this. I felt detached from it.

‘They need as many witnesses as possible. Unfortunately, after all these years, not everyone is traceable. Many of us are adults now, some can’t be found, others won’t come.’

Adeline paused, and in an instant, I understood what she was about to ask me.

She looked at me with her large blue eyes, then with a soft but determined voice, she said, ‘Come to the trial, Nica. Give testimony with me.’

That request triggered an irrational panic. I should have been happy about this news. I wanted justice, but the thought of Her being so close to my present situation shook me to the core.

And I knew why. I was still going to the psychologist. My fears had diminished, but they hadn’t gone away. I still couldn’t wear belts. The feeling of leather nauseated me. And in some situations, my terrors came back like monsters gnawing at my soul.

I was not healed. Sometimes, I still sensed her there, like a presence that had never gone away. Sometimes, in the nighttime, I could hear her horrible voice whispering in my ear, ‘You know what will happen if you tell anybody?’

‘I want to forget it too, Nica.’ Adeline half-closed her eyes, delicately clenching her fists. ‘Me too…There’s not a day that passes when I don’t wish I had a different childhood. A happy childhood. Without Her. But this is the moment, Nica…our moment is here, finally, someone is ready to listen to us. It’s our turn now. We can’t stay silent, we can’t stay out of this, not now…For me, for you, for Peter and all the others. She deserves to pay for what she did.’

Adeline was staring at me, short of breath and her eyes full of tears, but there was a steely determination on her face. She was scared to death. I could see it in her eyes.

None of us wanted to see her again.

None of us wanted to face her again.

But we all carried the same scars.

The same desperate desire.

To close that nightmare forever.

I looked at that girl who I had considered a part of myself ever since we were little girls, and in her, I saw the two of us, small and covered in bruises, supporting each other through everything.

‘I’ll give testimony.’

I clenched my hands so she wouldn’t see them trembling. In her gaze there was a flickering but powerful light.

‘But you have to promise me one thing,’ I continued. ‘Rigel can’t know anything about this.’

Adeline didn’t move. A look of shock and confusion passed through her eyes, making me look away. I didn’t need to look at her to know that she had thought I would feel supported by Rigel’s presence, that he would have given me strength and courage.

‘Is it because…’

‘I don’t want him there,’ I interrupted her, more resolute than ever before. I clenched my hands and looked up at her, allowing no discussion. ‘He can’t come.’

—

On that fateful day, I wore a pair of dark, tight-fitting pants. My long hair brushed the hem of the little grey vest I wore over a white silk blouse. It felt as though that little piece of cloth was suffocating me, and I couldn’t stop fiddling with it. Anna had asked whether I wouldn’t prefer to wear a jacket over the blouse, but the idea of something around my wrists was enough to make my stomach turn.

Outside the courtroom, the stately marble floor resounded with the footsteps of elegantly dressed men and women. There was a sophisticated, solemn atmosphere. The ceilings were so imposing that I felt awestruck and insignificant.

‘It will all be okay,’ Anna’s voice whispered.

Adeline, next to her, swallowed almost imperceptibly. Her blue eyes were like an agitated, murky winter sea. She was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes. I hadn’t been the only one who had had sleepless nights leading up to that day. Carl hadn’t been able to come, and she was missing him.

‘I’ll be there with you, in the gallery,’ Anna continued. ‘We’ve just got to wait…Oh, here she is!’

I turned towards the figure walking up the wide stairs.

Asia came towards us, dressed in a dark skirt and a petrol-blue satin halter-neck blouse. She wasn’t wearing heels, which made her look younger, but her determined aura made her seem in perfect harmony with that distinguished, formal environment.

I was surprised to see her there. I knew that she had graduated in Law and that she wanted to become a civil rights attorney, but I hadn’t been expecting to see her.

What was she doing there?

‘Sorry,’ she said in a resolute tone. ‘I missed the time change.’

Adeline’s eyes filled with something tremulous and shining. I realised she had asked her to come. Asia came up beside her, and held her gaze with a silent strength.

She had come to support us.

I was happy she was there too.

‘We’ve got to go in,’ she informed us pragmatically. ‘Anna, you go and sit in the gallery. You two, you’ll have to sit in the waiting room until they call you up. The attorney general will ask you to introduce yourself at the witness box.’ Asia looked us in the eyes firmly. ‘Try not to get agitated. Nervousness won’t help you. The defence attorney could try to persuade the jury that you’re lying. Respond to the questions calmly, as clearly as possible. No one will rush you.’

I wrung my hands, trying to memorise her words, but I had the unpleasant feeling that I had already forgotten all her advice. I had to speak candidly before an audience about something that, despite how much time had passed, still twisted my stomach. I tried to remind myself why I was there, why I was doing this, and summoned my courage.

When we went into the courtroom, I was surprised by how respectfully silent the crowd of people was. Several journalists, over to one side, were waiting for the judge’s arrival, hoping to publish the story in the evening papers.

Anna turned towards us, giving us an encouraging look which I clung to with all my heart. Then she went to sit in the gallery. I followed her with my eyes and we sat down near the wall.

I wished there was someone tall and reassuring, with unmistakable black eyes, sitting next to me.

Looking at me in that profound way that only he could.

Holding my hand with his silky fingers.

Defying everyone with his gaze, because I was nervous and scared.

Reminding me that it didn’t matter how dark my nightmares were, because that was where I could see the stars…

No, my soul decreed. No, he could not be there.

He had to stay far away.

In the dark.

Safe.

The judge came in, announced by a court official, and everyone got to their feet. When we sat back down, the clerk of the court announced, ‘The State of Alabama against Margaret Stoker.’

A sudden realisation gripped my throat.

She was there.

Suddenly, I no longer felt comfortable in my own skin. I started to sweat. I nervously scratched my palm with my index finger until it became red. I felt sticky, stiff, clammy.

I wanted to scratch myself until I bled, until I got scabs, and then to pick them off, but Asia took the hand I was scraping with and pulled it into her lap, holding it in an iron grip. I didn’t have the strength to turn and look at her. Adeline was holding my other hand, gripping on to me, and I clutched back so hard it must have hurt.

‘Thank you, Your Honour. Members of the Jury,’ the attorney general declared, after having introduced the case and the bill of particulars. ‘With your permission, I will commence the examination in chief.’

‘Proceed, attorney.’

The man nodded thanks to the judge, then turned to the audience.

‘As first witness, I call Nica Milligan to the stand.’

A charge ran through my body. I jumped.

It was me. I was the first.

I got up with a tremor and walked through the silent court as if my skin was not my own. The air felt barbed. I tried to ignore all the looks around me, the faces following me like mute dummies. The witness box was screaming at me, dominating all other thoughts.

Within a few moments, I moved past the gallery and the legal official swore me in, then pointed to the witness box, where I went to sit down under the gaze of the jury. The vest was suffocating me. My hands were sweaty.

I sat on the edge of the seat, my knees tight together and my fingers interlaced, a tangle of nerves. I didn’t dare look around.

‘Please state your name for the record,’ the prosecutor instructed.

‘Nica Milligan.’

‘And you live at 123 Buckery Street?’

‘Yes…’

‘Your adoption process was completed two years ago. Is that correct?’

‘That is correct,’ I replied in a tiny voice.

‘And can you confirm that your previous surname was Dover?’

I gave another affirmative response, and he took several steps forward, continuing with the examination.

‘And so, at the time in which you responded to the name of Nica Dover, you were one of the children entrusted to Sunnycreek Home?’

‘Yes,’ I murmured.

‘And was it Mrs Stoker here who directed the institute, at that time?’

I froze. Time stopped.

A visceral force made me look up and face reality.

And I saw her.

Sat in the dock, like an old photograph. I looked at the woman who had torn away my childhood dreams. Time seemed to turn back years.

She hadn’t changed. It was still Her.

Margaret stared at me, her eyes as sharp as thorns, her grey, stringy hair hanging down to her shoulders. She was older, her bulldog face was marked by cigarettes and alcohol, but that darkened appearance just made her gaze look even more hollow and ferocious. She still had those burly forearms, those big, nervous hands that more than once had cracked my ribs.

I looked at her. I could still feel her hands on my skin.

Her eyes slid over me, looking at my clean clothes and my healthy, grown-up appearance, as if she didn’t recognise me at all. She seemed to not believe that the gremlin with the hands covered in Band-Aids and the dirty face had transformed into the smart, nourished young woman before her.

A strange madness overcame my heart. My temples throbbed, my pulse started to gallop. It felt like someone had just turned my soul over on itself.

‘Miss Milligan?’

‘Yes,’ I whispered, my voice unrecognisable. My fingers were trembling uncontrollably but I tried not to let it show. The attorney brought his hands behind his back.

‘Answer the question.’

‘Yes. She directed the institute.’

Something within me shrieked, writhed, threatened to choke me. I resisted those feelings, forcing myself to stay present, to not throw to the winds all the efforts I had made with my psychologist. We had confronted the matron many times in my imagination, but having her there before me was a nightmare turned into reality.

The attorney proceeded with the questioning. I responded slowly, fighting against my insecurities, the words that got stuck, my voice that gave way, without ever stopping.

I wished I could look her in the eyes, proudly, and make her see the woman I had become.

I wished I could make her see that I had followed my dreams, just as when I was a child I had followed the clouds in the sky. Without ever giving up.

And I wished that she would see me for what I was, that she would see the strength in my bright eyes, the determination, even though inside it was still that moth-heart that shone.

And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the face.

‘Good. I have no further questions, Your Honour.’ The attorney general sat back down, satisfied with my statements. Then, it was the defence attorney’s turn.

He started to cross-examine me, trying in vain to lead me astray. I didn’t contradict myself, I didn’t retract my statements, because each memory was still vivid in my head, alive on my skin.

I remained firm in my testimony, further corroborating the charges, and as such, the defence decided to withdraw.

‘That’ll do, Miss Milligan,’ he declared.

I had done it.

I looked up.

A multitude of emotions hung over the faces of the otherwise composed jury members: coldness, tension and incredulity.

I had just finished recounting the details of when she tied me up in the cellar and left me to writhe in terror. Of when my lips cracked from screaming and thirst. Of when she threatened to pull my fingernails out, so I’d stop scratching at the leather belts.

I shifted my gaze and met Margaret’s dark, searching eyes. It was as if she had finally recognised me.

Then she smiled.

She smiled like she smiled when she closed the cellar door behind her. Like she smiled when I clutched at her skirts. She smiled in that twisted, repulsive way, a triumphant smirk.

A red, brutal emotion took hold of my throat.

I rushed to my feet and under the request of the judge, left the witness box, clammy and feverish. I was trembling uncontrollably. I crossed the room, temples throbbing, but when I got to the end of the room, instead of sitting down again, I suddenly grabbed the door handle and threw myself out of the room. Bile rose to my throat and I only managed to find the restroom by the skin of my teeth. I grabbed the sink and vomited up all the trauma corroding my soul.

My skin was crawling with sweat, my insides were writhing. I winced as strained tears blinded my eyes: I saw her there, with that mocking smirk and all the pain she had caused me.

In front of Her I wasn’t a twenty-one-year-old woman.

I was still the dirty little girl, praying I could be good.

Hands tried to touch me, but repulsion assailed me and my brain refused that touch. I pushed away the fingers that were trying to help me, and a familiar voice urged me to think straight.

‘Leave it…No. Stop…’

Asia tried to calm me down, fighting against the slaps with which I tried to push her away. Maybe I hurt her, but I wasn’t myself. She managed to take me by the shoulders. I trembled.

‘It’s all okay. You were good. You were good…’

I tried to move away from her, but she stopped me, holding me strangely, a little stiffly. And yet warmly.

I tried to struggle free, but in the end, her grip won over my resistance.

Her hands weren’t soft like Anna’s, nor familiar like Adeline’s.

But they held me.

And, even though we came from different, separate universes, I unleashed my tears and let her, for once, touch that childlike heart that I kept hidden from everyone.

—

That evening, I stood in the shower for what felt like an eternity. I washed away the sweat, the trauma and the shivers that had stuck to my skin. I washed away the smell of fear, the scratches on my wrists and everything that remained from that day.

Then, I went to Rigel’s apartment, with a crumpled soul and empty eyes.

My life seemed smeared, like something rubbed out with an eraser. The truth was that I needed to breathe for a while in his presence, to be with him, because he was the only light that could bring me comfort in that darkness I sometimes plunged back into.

He didn’t even know what power he had over me.

Rigel took the darkness and transformed it into velvet. He touched my heart, and suddenly, everything seemed to work again, as if he knew the secret melody to make its complex gears turn. He had paradise in his eyes and hell on his lips. He was the only truth that managed to make everything else pale into insignificance.

I slid the key into the lock. I should have at least knocked, but when I smelt his scent in the air, I silently entered the apartment without even thinking about it.

I dropped my bag on the couch and slid off my jacket, noticing a lamp shining on a table in the other room. I expected to see him there, but all I found was a book open on a page about the movement of satellites, a glass of water, a plate with a few crumbs on it and a few pages of notes in his elegant handwriting.

I touched the pen in the groove between the pages and imagined him there studying, his gorgeous face lit up by the lamp and that concentrated expression he always had when reading.

The next moment, I sensed a silent presence behind me.

I turned around. I knew he had the perennial habit of moving about like a predator in the darkness.

‘Perhaps, you want to explain.’

He was standing in the doorway, magnificent and terrifying. His eyes bored through the darkness in that way that had made me tremble so often. He was holding the evening newspaper. It was rolled up in his hands, but I knew what was written there.

Everyone was talking about the case of the Sunnycreek children.

He came closer and slapped the newspaper down on the table, his stormy gaze still pinned on me. His familiar scent awakened my heart. His eyes were pushing me away and crushing me like black holes, but I felt my body reacting to his closeness, as if it belonged to him more than ever before.

‘Why? Why didn’t you tell me?’

He was angry.

Very angry.

He wanted to have been there. He didn’t like what I had done, and the idea of not having been with me for the trial went against his heart’s most primordial instincts.

I just wanted to dive into his arms, to feel held, to feel safe, but I knew I couldn’t avoid this discussion. Rigel deserved an explanation.

‘If I had told you, you would have come,’ I whispered. ‘And I tried to stop that happening.’

‘You tried to…stop that happening?’ His eyes narrowed into two thundering slits. ‘And for what reason, Nica?’

There was a flash of realisation in his eyes, destructive, hostile, as if I was his enemy.

‘What is it, did you think I was too weak to come?’ He took a step towards me, oozing anger and pain. ‘Is it because of what you saw the other day? The attack?’

‘No.’

‘Then what?’

‘I didn’t want her to see you,’ I whispered with disarming honesty.

Rigel didn’t move, but something crystallised in his eyes.

‘I couldn’t stand the thought of her eyes on you again,’ I confessed. ‘That seeing you would awaken something in her. I wouldn’t have been able to bear it. I hate how obsessed she was with you, that sick affection she forced on you. I can’t breathe when I think about it. I wanted her far away. I wanted to protect you from her, even if it meant facing it alone!’

My fists shook and my throat burned. I felt tears threatening to burst forth again. I couldn’t help but cry; I had reached my limit.

‘I’d do it again,’ I hissed through gritted teeth, thinking about that smirk, the way she had destroyed me. ‘I’d do it a hundred times to keep her away from you. I don’t care if you think it was stupid. I don’t care if you’re angry with me. I don’t care, Rigel, I would do anything, everything, to stop her seeing you again!’

I clenched my eyes shut, and a desperate force exploded from me like a star.

‘So be angry. Shout at me!’ I incited him, reeling from the stressful day. ‘Tell me I was wrong not letting you come, tell me I made a mistake! Say whatever you want, but don’t ask me to apologise, don’t, because the only thing that brings me any comfort in all this mess is knowing that for once, just for once, I was able to do something to prot—’

His hands grabbed me and he pulled me towards him.

I collided with his chest with a gasping sob. His warmth enveloped me like a glove and the world trembled in his arms, silenced by an invisible, sweet and incredibly powerful force.

I trembled, sobbed my heart out, my strength falling away from me.

‘Fool,’ he whispered gently in my ear.

I closed my eyes. God, that was all I wanted to hear. I wanted Rigel to erase Margaret forever, just with the sound of his deep voice.

His hand rose up my neck, trying to cradle me, and I clung on to that gesture with a feeling of desperation. I let him touch my heart, in his own way. He knew how to put me together, just by holding me like that, and I loved him all the more for it.

‘You don’t need to protect me,’ he murmured, so softly it pulled at my heartstrings. ‘You don’t need to defend me against anything. That’s…my job.’

I buried my face in his clean, fragrant sweater. I shook my head, moaning against his chest.

‘I’ll always protect you,’ I confessed, as small as a child, because I didn’t know how else to be. ‘Even if you don’t think you need it…’

Rigel held me tighter and I let him engulf me, utterly, inch by inch, until I became one with his warmth. He knew I was like that, that we were like that, stubborn and impossible until the very end.

We would carry on sacrificing ourselves for each other.

We would carry on protecting each other, in our own way, choosing silence over words, gestures over anything else.

We would carry on loving each other like this, in that excessive, imperfect way, full of mistakes but as sincere as the sun.

I looked at him with languishing, destroyed eyes, and he tilted his head, looking back at me, calmly and deeply.

My heart pulsed, thrilled once again by his face, by everything he meant for me, and Rigel lowered his lips to kiss me.

His soft mouth gave me a warm, tingling feeling in my stomach. I lifted my arms to his shoulders and pulled him to me with a burning desire.

I interwove my tongue with his, and Rigel gripped my hips, trying to hold me back, slow me down. He was trying to contain the feral passion that was threatening to consume me, but I pushed my fingers into his shoulders and pressed myself against him.

‘I need you,’ I begged. ‘I need this. Please…’

Rigel was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, his hair falling into his eyes. I held his face and sunk my soft, needy lips against his.

His muscles tensed. His breath rose to his throat.

I felt his composure crumbling. I kissed him more insistently, and the pressure of my slender body finally made him give in.

He seized my neck and his mouth landed on mine, devouring me with fiery kisses. His tongue invaded my mouth and his confidence stunned me, sending an intense shiver down my spine. I slid my hands through his hair and kissed him with a bewildering passion, drawing a husky moan from his chest.

His breathing became eager, impetuous. Rigel pushed me back until I banged into the edge of the table, which he cleared with an abrupt sweep of his arm. The glass and plate shattered and leaves tumbled to the parquet flooring as he grabbed my body and laid me down.

With trembling fingers, I tried to take his sweater off. Rigel sent it to the floor along with his shirt, burning like a raging fire. His dark hair fell like a soft halo on his strong shoulders. I had no time to admire him before he unzipped the fly of my pants, abruptly lifted my pelvis and slid them down my legs. My breathing became laboured. My cheeks were burning and I found myself lifting my arms up as his tough hands almost tore my hoodie off me.

There was no calm. No patience. We were throwing ourselves at each other like animals.

My skin went numb; it felt frozen and boiling at the same time. My bare shoulder blades collided with the table and Rigel closed his hand around the curve of my neck, squeezing until my nerves burned. I writhed under his touch and my heart beat like crazy as he plunged his fingers into my thigh, and then sunk his teeth into the inside of it, where my flesh was softer and more sensitive. I clenched my eyes shut and a charge ran through me, making me grip the sides of the table.

My body began to quiver, and I let Rigel take me completely, take everything, fill me up with him.

I didn’t care if he left marks.

I wouldn’t stop him.

I needed this. His red-hot touch, his bites, his dark love.

I needed to lose myself in his soul, because it was the only place I would never be scared.

My hands shook, my muscles tensed. Rigel tore away my panties with conviction, the waistband dug into my skin, taking my breath away. Then, with no tenderness, he grabbed my ankles and pulled me along the table towards him until I was against his crotch. His body was burning with tension, with cravings, with the need to taste me, tear me to pieces, make me his.

And I wanted him for what he was. I didn’t want him to be anything other than himself.

A beautiful demon. The only angel that dwelled in the darkness of my soul.

I was hardly breathing as his possessive touch burned my skin. His fingers worked their way up my thighs, and then he squeezed, feeling my velvety flesh moulding under his fingertips. His hands were full of me, it hurt, and a slight gasp escaped from my lips.

That sound made him grip harder. I narrowed my eyes and arched my ankles. Rigel bent over to press his burning lips to the intimate part between my thighs. When he bit me, my eyes flew open and I gasped.

I instinctively flinched, but he gripped my hips, holding me in a tight, vice-like grip. He started to torture me with his mouth, kissing, licking and sucking impetuously, a merciless storm that made me clench my eyes shut. I moaned. I couldn’t feel my legs, my lower stomach was pulsating hard.

His thirsty tongue kept caressing me, unrelenting, and his teeth stimulated nerves that sent shocks over my skin.

My breathing became erratic, I trembled, my cheeks burned. I gripped his hair in my fingers, but Rigel didn’t stop, he twisted his tongue around the sensitive area and then sunk his teeth in more forcefully than before. I bit my lip and his fingers clawed at my skin, holding me still while those hot strokes teased me with a sweet cruelty, smashing my muscles to pieces.

When he straightened up, I was unable to speak, exhausted and trembling. My brain was buzzing. Rigel licked his red, swollen, violent lips, then, giving in to the impulse which was devouring him, he lowered his pants.

He seized my pelvis and lifted it, taking my breath away again. He had never been delicate, and I wouldn’t expect him to make an exception for me. Rigel always tried to control himself, to contain himself, as if he was constantly scared of breaking me. He was ravenous, wild and impetuous. I wanted him to continue sculpting my soul, casting the world far, far away with all his usual roughness.

I felt his hardness pushing between my legs. My heart missed a beat. My blood was trembling, my body boiling and my heart shuddering to breaking point. I was glad I was on the pill, as there was no time for any other protection.

I wanted to tilt my head, to look in his eyes, but the sensation as he pushed decisively inside me was so unexpected and intense that my toes curled and my spine arched.

My thighs were trembling, as if I would never be able to get used to him. I dug my fingernails into the wood of the table and Rigel breathed in that low, virile way, enjoying the hot, yielding feeling enveloping him. I bit my lip, small and trembling, but instead of continuing, he put a hand to my cheek and pinned my eyes in his gaze.

Time stopped.

My chest exploded with an uncontainable emotion, and I clung to those eyes I loved so wildly, pouring all my feelings into them.

That was where our souls met.

That was where they gave each other everything.

His eyes tied to mine, Rigel started to move inside me. He pushed deep inside me, powerfully pinning me to the edge of the table, gripping my body, making my bones ache.

His breath filled the air.

The world went away.

It became his eyes.

It became his skin, his scent, his vigour and his strength.

It became him.

And the darkness turned into velvet.

Stars bloomed among the shadows.

Rigel leant over me and I met his demanding thrusting with numb legs and trembling ankles. His grip on my pelvis hurt, but I plunged my fingernails into his back and kissed him back with all the sweetness trembling through my body.

Because we were a galaxy of stars, me and him.

A magnificent chaos.

A delirious shining.

But it was only together that we could glow.

And we would always be like that.

Difficult to understand.

Imperfect and unusual.

But immortal…

Just like amaranth flowers.