Book 14: Something for Me

Soren

Sometimes I feel like I’m still standing on the train, gripping the railing while I just… look at her, memorizing every painful, beautiful, devastating detail. The way the wind whipped her hair into a frenzy as the train caught speed. The way her sea-glass eyes shone with tears. The way her fingers clutched my shirt, wrinkling the fabric. The salt on her lips–tears–that I swiped away with my tongue.

Her scent. Her warmth. Her voice, for fuck’s sake.

Then I wake up, reminded how far away she is, and the incredible distance between us that has nothing to do with miles.

Pale early morning sunlight drifts through the window directly behind me, casting rays of dusty sunbeams skittering across the freshly swept floor. Beyond the rusting metal window frame, a patch of sparse trees bow in the wind, and beyond that, the Deadlands stretch for miles of rolling nothingness.

This place, my safe house, is situated right on the border between th