Daughter of Nyx (Book Three)

Chapter Ten

Okay, so, there is a scene in here that is really messy. My apologies. I don't have the brain power to fix it right now. 

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Chevonne sat at the computer, staring at the screen while sipping her coffee.

The word 'send' was taunting her.

After finding a Realtor that specialized in apartments like hers, she had typed out an e-mail asking to set up a time and date to look over hers. Yes, she still needed to clean it after what had been done, but having a time-frame in which to do it would be nice. She finished the document and signed and and now all she had to do was click one little button. The slightest pressure from her finger and the process would begin.

She couldn't do it.

Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her coffee and walked around the room.

Why was she having doubts now? She couldn't have them both. And she wanted that house.

But she also wanted that floor that she fell on when Jonathan dropped her during tipsy tango.

She wanted those memories. Even the one where Elliot scared her that first night, when she saw his reflection in the window. Right before she stumbled and he carried her. Even terrified, she wanted him.

"Good evening."

Chevonne turned, watching as Draven came in and sat behind the desk.

"A stressful one," she replied.

"Why?" He looked down where she had left the email open. "I see."

"I thought I could do it. It was supposed to be easy. And I can't click send."

"Memories are a double-edged sword."

She sat across from him. "What do you mean?"

"Emotions. I'm talking about memories and emotions and how easily they hold one frozen in place. I'm assuming that it's good memories that are making you hesitant?"

She leaned back in her chair. "Yes."

"Those memories make you happy?"

"Mostly."

"And here you are. Unable to move forward because of the joy of these memories. And the fear of the unknown future."

"What would you do, if you were me?" she asked.

"I can't answer that because I don't feel what you do. It would be nothing for me to press this button. Would this house burn tonight, I would remain unbothered. I feel nothing for it. Its simply protection from the sun."

"Not even your memories of your 'special room' bring you pleasure?"

His eyes seemed to look through her, deep in the recesses of her thoughts. "Memories are simply that for me. I derive my pleasure from action. Not thoughts. My mind is full of images, Chevonne. Countless bodies, overlapping screams. A literal cacophony of visual and audible delights that do nothing except take up space."

She almost believed him. But for a slight tightening around his eyes, she would have. Though, she didn't have it in her to press him on that. Not at that moment.

"Then," he continued, "for you people that feel, might you consider this. You can stay trapped by your memories, forever unable to take a step. Or, you realize those memories are your past and do nothing for your future. A future you didn't envision at the time. A future in which you live surrounded by those you care for. Those you love."