Buried in the wreckage of a Compound meant to imprison her, Faine awakens a shell of her former self. With no memories and a growing taste for revenge, she is given the ultimate decision.
She must save the city, or herself.
Round One 》✅️ 2k 》✅️
R...
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After hours of staring out the window, Faine had mentally measured the distance between her and every public building. A mile to the nearest restaurant. Three if she needed to disappear though the park and lose a tail. North six blocks was a lively museum and west led back to the hospital.
As a former residence, Faine would've expected a knock at the door or detail sitting outside, but the Guard seemed to be leaving this particular home a wide berth.
With her elbows propped against the window sill, she watched dawn turn to dusk. The moon rose steadily over the horizon, glowing through the clouds before the sun had completely set. The magenta skies were cooling down for the night, bleeding into a rich royal purple.
The floorboards behind her began to creak, making her spine stiffen. Metal clicked and the door behind her slowly popped open.
Footsteps echoed softly until the door clicked again.
Feeling paralyzed, Faine didn't move an inch. She didn't know what to say to him, how to look at him. He'd been through enough today and she was only going to make it worse.
It felt safer to pretend he wasn't there at all.
"I know you heard me," Leighton said, his voice groggy with sleep and soreness. "Don't tell me you've been left alone with your thoughts too long."
A laugh escaped her. "Not long enough, I'd say..."
"How's your amnesia?" he asked.
"How's your body?" she quipped.
He huffed a half hearted laugh as Faine turned to face him with a brow raised. Leighton shook his head and came to sit on the bed behind her.
Before her sat the man from every memory and dream, those amber eyes staring back at her. Deep, unending whirls of brown and orange swept together in his irises, emotion churning beneath the surface. Leighton's challenging facial expressions were softer than normal, the look on his face more tired than anything else.
Faine wondered how she looked to him. If she too shared that weighted exhaustion so woven into her soul that even her features bled with the feelings.
"She certainly said it was going to take all day, but I wasn't sure..." Faine said, glancing back out the window. "The sun is setting."
"Indeed it is," he agreed. "Though, I get the feeling your meaning is deeper."
She shrugged, returning her attention to him. "I'm grateful you're okay," she murmured. "I was worried when I saw how she had you strung up in the air like that."
Leighton thought about his response for a moment, his left hand playing with the fraying edges of her forgotten towel. "I can say the same, I'd never seen you so sick in all the years I've known you."
Faine nodded, feeling herself shutting down. The resistance within her was overwhelming. No matter how hard she fought off her emotions, they lassoed her heart and held her hostage to the truth.
