XXIII. January 15th, 1986

Mira's POV:

The pebbles in my hand drop to the carpet.

Inside the room wasn't only Lucian but a group of people who stopped their course the moment their eyes set on me. Papers were tacked on the wall, and everyone looked exhausted.

"Mira?" Alaric steps forward and tilts his head as if it'll give him a better look at me.

There's a pause in the air that's so suffocating I feel like throwing up. I close my eyes, "Return. Return. Re-"

"Mira!" Lucian shouts. His voice strikes me harder than it should, and my eyelids are forced to open to acknowledge his presence. He steps forward, but I only move back. "Please," he softens his voice. "Please come back."

I shake my head, "I think I'm good."

"Mira—" There's something about him—maybe it's his face or perhaps his voice—but that something got my heart knotted into a mess. "I don't know what's happening, but please, let's talk about it." He forces out an ugly smile, "Okay?"

I looked around the room, and in an instant, everyone left.

"Uncle," Alaric says, "Be gentle with her. She's scared."

I'm not exactly afraid, but I am uncomfortable with the current situation I'm forced to be in.

In the foreign room, I was left alone with Lucian, who looked like he had traveled to hell and back.

My sight flickered from him to the whiteboard on the wall with pictures of my family and relatives. There were crosses against some pictures, and in an instant, I knew what he had done.

"You...Are you trying to find me?" That was a dumb question.

"Your brother—" he says softly, "you always said he was meant to be more than just a doctor. I guess you weren't wrong."

I noticed Carter's cabin was pinned to the whiteboard. How amazing. It's been less than a day, and he's so close to finding where I am. If I hadn't come here, Lucian probably would've seen me in a day...two tops.

I don't expect any less from an archduke.

Why couldn't I fool around with someone with less power?

Like a janitor.

I can run away from a janitor.

"That's where you are right now," Lucian mumbles.

"Yeah," I said. "Time to pack up my stuff, right?" I said jokingly. Lucian wasn't humored by my statement. Rather, it seems to tense him up even more.

"You can go if you want," Lucian says. "But, I'll just find you again."

I laughed, unamused by his statement. I guess I'm not the only one trying to lighten the situation: "It's a big world."

"It is," he admits, "But I know you. You can't run forever."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because you hate sports, and the only club you're in is the go-home club."

The go-home club is something I often mentioned when I was in high school to escape from the legacy my family made. My mother, father, and brother were all legendary athletes in high school.

Me?

Well, sometimes I think I'm adopted.

And the only thing holding me back is the fact that I look like a mixture of my parents.

I kneel down to pick up the pebbles from the ground. Lucian copies my actions and grabs the ones closer to him. When I looked up, his eyes were set on me. If he looks away for a single second, I may disappear.

Which is pretty close to what I've been doing lately.

Then again, maybe it's not such a bad thing. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

Lucian lifts his hand, and I take it as a signal to open my palm.

He drops the pebbles into it and says: "I'll be there soon."

I chuckle, "Going to take a helicopter there?"

"Wouldn't want to get stuck in traffic."

"Why rush?" I question. "Come in the morning. I'll be there."

"Will you?" His eyes tell me he doesn't believe me. In his mind, I may change my answer at the time and run away again.

I know running away wouldn't solve anything. And even if I do, Lucian will always manage to find me. I can't imagine myself moving from place to place with my brother and his boyfriend. They have a job to go back to and a future together. I can't take that away from them.

The longer I look at Lucian, the more tired I feel. Is it the pregnancy? Is it the rough sleep I had in the back of the car? Or maybe it's simply one of those days where the tiredness is both physical and mental.

But I feel like it's more than that.

I feel like I've been exhausted for a long time.

Lucian takes a step towards me, and his pale lips parted, "Have you not been resting?"

How does he expect me to rest knowing he is always watching me?

Steadily, Lucian raised his hand and reached for me. The inch of his movement became millimeters as if any sudden movement would cause me to run away. But I couldn't run. My legs refused to move. Our gazes refused to avert. There's this beating inside of me that explodes inside my ears, and I find it awful.

My eyes close.

Only to open up to a tearful older brother.

Despite the reassurance Carter gives him, Steven cries even harder as he holds my cold, limp body close to him. His cold, shaky hand runs its way through my hair, and he presses his dusty lips against my forehead.

Something tells me Steven will never get used to what happens.

During dinner, Steven stared at me like a hawk. When I got out of my seat, he'd immediately shift gear towards my direction. It was so distracting that Carter kicked him out of the kitchen. So, now it's Steven and me on the couch.

I stand up.

Instantly, he stands after me, "Where are you going?"

"Um—bathroom?" When I made my way to the restroom, Steven followed me. I stopped at the door and said, "No, you are not going to be in the same room as me while I pee." I made a waving gesture to signal him to move back.

When he did, I closed the door. "I'll be out here!"

"I know!" I pull down my pants. "I can feel you breathing against the wood," I grumble. I know he's worried about me, espically since I'm basically his only family member after we say - screw you - to our parents and left.

My thoughts circle back to dad.

Why was I there?

I place a hand on the bump. "Is it you?" I whisper, "Why do you do this to me? Lucian is hard enough and now dad? Seriously? Seriously!"

Steven knocks against the door, "Who are you talking to?"

"Myself!" I decided it was useless to lecture someone who's not even born. After I washed my hands and left the bathroom, Steven was exactly where I thought he would be - breathing against my neck.

The longer he stayed beside me, the more constricted I feel. I already have Lucian breathing at me from a distance, so having Steven right beside me doesn't really help my anxiety level either.

Steven watches me, very closely, as I tuck myself in the couch.

"Um-" I lean back, "Space?"

He lays on the floor and pulls the blanket up.

After a few minutes, I scream: "Carter!"

Carter pops out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in his mouth, "Yes?"

"Do something about him!" I point at Steven. I called Carter because I know talking to Steven is useless.

Carter sighs softly before he goes back into the bathroom to finish. In his pajamas, he makes his way towards us, "Steven, leave your sister alone."

"I'm not doing anything to her."

"Yes, he is!" I rebutted, "He wouldn't stop staring at me." I'm pretty sure he hasn't blinked in the last ten minutes.

"Steven-" Carter says his name in defeat. "May I have a word?"

"Yes?"

"In the other room?"

"But-" Steven gestured towards me.

"Other room."

"But, what if she-"

"Other room." Carter pulls out his dean's voice.

Steven huffs a breath softly before he follows Carter to the kitchen across the living room.

I peek my head over the couch to hear what they're saying, which is dumb because I can clearly hear them laying down.

"I know you're worried about her. Hell, I am too. But, do you think breathing over her shoulders will help her?"

When Steven turns his head towards me, I hid behind the cushions.

"Steven," Carter calls for him.

"I know," he grumbles.

"Give her some space. Okay?"

"Hm."

"Steven."

"Okay. Okay."

Carter and Steven made their way back to the living room. The two of them stood awkwardly in front of me. They looked at me, then at each other. Carter elbowed Steven, who grumbled, "What?"

When I couldn't stand the silence, I pull the blanket over my face.

"Mira," Steven finally calls for me.

I move the blanket down, "Yes?"

"Sorry for that-" he moves his hands in circles.

"It's okay," I said. "You're worried."

He gives me a small smile before he lies back on the ground. Carter exhales softly and settles beside him. "Was that so hard?" Carter whispers.

"Yeah."

"You're unbelievable." Carter reaches for Steven's shirt, "Your tag is out."

"It's a tag." Steven nudge his arm at Carter, "Leave it alone."

I smile softly at their back-and-forth argument. When the bicker dies down, and there's nothing left but silence, the fire engulfs my attention.

My eyelids closed, and the sound of dead leaves drifting in the air sank into my senses. The wood cracked, broken by the fire. Despite being in the middle of the woods, everything sounded loud, amplified.

Boots crunches against the snow.

One step after another, it melts the ice beneath its sole until it scatters against the wooden porch.

When a knock interrupts the peace, my eyelids open as if it's been waiting for this expected moment. The blanket on Carter falls off his shoulders, and he looks at me. He stands up and steadily makes his way to the window. His head tilts slightly at the presence of our visitor.

Carter drops the curtain and made his way to the drawer to pull out a gun.

Was that always there?

He tucks it inside his pajamas then opens the door, but only by a crack and asks: "How may I help you?"

"Sorry to disturb you so late at night."

Deep.

"May I know if Mira is here?"

Cold.

Steven lays on the ground, still fast asleep. His sleep deprivation is getting the best of him.

I remove the blanket and tip-toe towards the front door.

Carter place a hand back to signal me to stop, "And you are?"

I did.

"Pardon my rudeness, my name is Lucianus Desdemona."

Carter tightens his hand on the doorknob. "You are Lucian?"

"Yes."

"I think you should leave." There was no hesitation in his voice.

A brief moment of silence lingers and finally, Lucian said: "Move."

Carter's tense body relaxes, and he moves. The door cracks open. From the darkness, Lucian steps inside the cabin, which somehow seems small with his presence. His grey eyes didn't explore the cabin like I did when I finished coming. There wasn't a pique of interest in what was around him.

He was only interested in one thing.

Me.

"W-What?" Carter looks at his palms as if it'll give him some answer to what happened. "Why? How?"

Lucian ignores him, and takes a step towards me, "Mira-"

"Stop!" I nearly shout.

Lucian raise his hands and step back as if it'll make him less threatening.

"Stev-"

"Silence."

There's a pounding in my chest when the electricity strikes the sky blind. My body trembles at the dark image in front of me, fear and trembling.

This scene looks like something you'd read in a book.

It belongs in a book.

Looks like a book.

It should be a book.

Lucian's eyes glows red, and the sight somehow seems bloody with the lighting strikes in the background.

Carter's mouth shuts.

Lucian's eyes met with me and he mumbles: "Fuck." He closes his eyes for a brief moment and when he open them, they return to their normal colors. "I can explain."

I let out a soft breath. I hate how I don't hate being around him, "Lucian," I muster up whats left of my courage. "I think you should leave."

"After you allow me to explain myself."

"What else is there to say?" I asked. "I thought about everything you said, and you are insane Lucian."

"Mira-"

I stumble back, "I want you to think this-"

"-situation from my perspective."

I paused when he finished my sentence.

"How unfair it is for me," he says.

Is he a mind reader?

"Be with you? I don't know." He moves closer to me, "Why? Why do you do this to me? Why do you have to make me suffer so much?"

It was terrifying how much I see myself behind those words.

"I'm damn if the world knows about us and damn if they don't."

The tears scatters down my red cheeks, "This happened before, hasn't it?"

I can feel it, how familiar this situation seems.

Lucian rests his hand on my cheek and wipes it off. "This is the part where I give you your memories back."

No, don't do it. This is a trap.

"But, I can't."

He is a trap.