He's looking at me as if the whole world waits for my next breath, with an intensity that makes my heart pound and my palms sweat and then he smiles, a sweet curve of his mouth, and my breath catches, but then I freeze because there is something about it, something beyond it that I know, that makes my mind go blank with fear and pain.
Elizabeth ScottHe is nothing to look at, and yet I can’t stop looking at him. There is something beautiful in how his face is made, how all the tiny flaws blend together into something more perfect than perfection could ever be.
Elizabeth ScottHow can I remember a world that isn't mine? One that isn't the one I wake up in every day now?
Elizabeth ScottThe sun flitered in through the small, dirty windows, catches his eyes. They are brown, ordinary, but the way he looks at me—no one has ever looked at me like he does. He looks at me like he sees something. Someone.
Me.
"All right," he says, and puts his hands behind his head.
"Go ahead.
I heard how people sounded when their dreams were shattered, when their lives were turned into a waking nightmare.
Elizabeth ScottWhatever happened to me just now has gotten to me, broken past the fragile shell I've built. More than my memory is gone. My soul has wings that beat to a heart I don't understand and I see things, feel things that I know aren't from here, but that are so real.
Elizabeth ScottAnd yet here I am. Broken and bleeding on the inside, heartsick, I am here.
Elizabeth ScottLike a heart, and I wish mine wasn't beating.
Elizabeth ScottNo, it can't," I say. "It's— it's the kind of thing you want to say, that you want to believe, but it isn't— I know isn't true. I thought my heart knew things, but what I thought was real turned out to be a lie, and now I don't—
Elizabeth ScottIt could be enough, maybe, or at least a start, but the problem is that at night I tumble into dreams that aren't dreams at all. I tumble into memories and wake up aching for a dying world and a quiet, cold life that offered me nothing but sitting in a still room.
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