Chapter-84

She’s my muse.

A face to all my desires.

The memories in my veins were as fresh and deep as the wound in my gut. I hate this and I hate it more every second I remember the fearful look on Rara’s face. I lost her. Almost lost her. Like I once lost my mother.

The soft pitter patter of rain lingered in my ears.

There was another wavering moment before I remember to breathe. I didn’t wanted to think about her, yet here I was.

I was five—and foolish, when I lost my mother. Her death wasn’t as tragic as Killian’s mother, but it left a traumatising impact on my life.

My chest tightened as I stared in the front, the shadows play on the walls, echoing the turbulence within me. My mother's photograph resting in my hands, the edges worn out. The flickering candlelight casting an ethereal glow, emphasizing the nostalgia that lingered in every corner.

I had been awake for an hour or so now. I couldn’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, flashbacks of my mother’s terrified eyes and her dead bo