All that is dark | ✓

16| the storm

SHE COULD TASTE THE storm in the air even before it begun. It reminded her of heartbreak, in the way only those who had lived a life filled with ache would understand. Dante understood. She knew that from the moment she had seen his anger, so unfiltered she could feel the grief even before speaking to him. The weight of a coffin he never had been able to bury was heavy on his shoulders, just like the weight of the world was on hers. Now he was here, in the middle of either her home or her prison.

"What are you doing here?" she frowned, worry curling around her heart like thorns.

"We'll talk about it later," he said, words coming out in a rush," come on, Helene. We need to be fast, before he notices."

He reached out his hand to her and she froze in place, frightened by the consequences of taking it. What kind of world would she find if she went back outside? How cruel would they be to her now? She didn't know whether she could take it. Nathan would never forgive her either. He'd kill Dante, a thought which made it hard for her to swallow. Out of all the people she had known, Dante had been her only friend. When she had worked in the prison with him she had wished for him to be gentler, to be allowed to heal. Yet here he was, pulled in her gigantic mess.

He had been the only one to come looking for her. Still, she had never asked him for his help. Why was she such a hypocrite? When had her patients ever asked for her help? When had Nathan? Why in God's name was she still the one to blame even when she hadn't asked Dante to come? His life was in danger now and it was her fault. Oh, she'd never be able to make a decision without tears welling up in her eyes, wouldn't she?

Her head was so full with thoughts it was going to burst.

Then, lightning slashed through the air. Dante's urgency increased as the thunder started to rumble, droplets of rain tangling in his eyelashes. He looked different, Helene thought. Tired, like the fatigue had seeped in him until he couldn't breathe. There was no rage burning in him anymore. Instead, he just looked sad.

"Please, Helene," he breathed," I came to get you out of here. Don't let him catch us."

She watched him curiously, reaching for him, but stopping herself in time.

"You aren't real," she realized then, shaking her head as laughter started tumbling down her lips hysterically," of course you aren't! How stupid am I to think someone would want to rescue me. I must've gotten lost in a dream."

When she blinked his vision flickered, her sight as unreliable as her heart. How could she even have believed he was real? This all wasn't logical to begin with. If this was truly Dante, how had he found her? Nathan wouldn't have left a trace and everyone in that prison was most likely dead. Even if he had managed to track her down, what had lead him deep in this rose garden?

"What are you talking about?" Dante frowned," Helene, what has he done to you?"

"You know what I'm talking about," she said," after all, you're a figment of my imagination. Cruel, really, the way it spins visions for me."

Dante shook his head, clearly distressed by her, but when he took a step towards her she quickly took one back. Though she knew he was made out of nothing but air, she didn't know if she could take knowing how crazy she had become. Whether she reached out to him and felt him or not, either way, the outcome was the same. This wasn't the first time her mind was playing tricks on her. No wonder her senses were betraying her as well.

When he noticed her taking the step back, he froze, not attempting to touch her again. Instead, he slowly sunk down on his knees in front of her, holding up his hands as he looked up at her. He seemed so young now, his frown gone and his eyes gentle. The rain had made his hair a mess, a scratch across his cheek which she only noticed then. It was like he had gone running through something, his shoes muddy and blouse smeared with dirt. He paid no mind to the way his pants were ruined now as well as he tried to make himself smaller in an obvious attempt to make her feel safe. Even as a hallucination he was kind.