Theea
they may say you're too small, you're too young
to do it all, but you're a giant on the inside
to do it all, but you're a giant on the inside
Aria’s nose presses to my cheek and I can’t help the small smile that answers it. I scratch under her jaw, her pelt soft and soothing, a little bit of comfort against the ache.
So is Damien’s heartbeat—steady at first, then suddenly unsteady, a hard, fluttering thrum beneath my ear. His jaw tightens above my head and my brow knits. I let him work through it—whatever in what I said struck so hard. I think Damien carries much more pain than I knew.
When he speaks, his voice is so raw my chest tightens. The hand I’ve left on his chest strokes my thumb over his shirt, hoping it comforts. I ease back just enough to look up at him and offer the gentlest smile I can manage. Firelight catches the brown in his eyes, lighting them for the briefest flicker.
“No—you’re not the reason I’m hurt,” I tell him, steady. “I make my own decisions, and you’re not responsible for them.” My smile warms, tired eyes sparking with fresh earnestness. “I’m glad because we won, Damien. You and me. We saved people. We did something good. And don’t you dare tell me our lightning-fast reaction times were luck. Yeah, I’m learning; I shouldn’t have gotten that close—but I did, and if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be alive to learn that lesson. And if I’m going to be a monster hunter, I should probably learn fast.”
I draw a breath. I’m known for rambling, but I don’t apologize. He needs to hear this, clearly.
“These scars aren’t going to be a reminder of failure, you hear me?” I hold his gaze—dark, unwavering. “They won’t be monuments to what went wrong; they’ll be proof of what we chose and survived. Don’t rewrite them as loss.”
Then I tuck myself back into him, into his warmth. I’m exhausted and hurting, but I am proud of us. “Besides," I hum, "this’ll make a great story. I’m just happy you’re in it.”
So is Damien’s heartbeat—steady at first, then suddenly unsteady, a hard, fluttering thrum beneath my ear. His jaw tightens above my head and my brow knits. I let him work through it—whatever in what I said struck so hard. I think Damien carries much more pain than I knew.
When he speaks, his voice is so raw my chest tightens. The hand I’ve left on his chest strokes my thumb over his shirt, hoping it comforts. I ease back just enough to look up at him and offer the gentlest smile I can manage. Firelight catches the brown in his eyes, lighting them for the briefest flicker.
“No—you’re not the reason I’m hurt,” I tell him, steady. “I make my own decisions, and you’re not responsible for them.” My smile warms, tired eyes sparking with fresh earnestness. “I’m glad because we won, Damien. You and me. We saved people. We did something good. And don’t you dare tell me our lightning-fast reaction times were luck. Yeah, I’m learning; I shouldn’t have gotten that close—but I did, and if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be alive to learn that lesson. And if I’m going to be a monster hunter, I should probably learn fast.”
I draw a breath. I’m known for rambling, but I don’t apologize. He needs to hear this, clearly.
“These scars aren’t going to be a reminder of failure, you hear me?” I hold his gaze—dark, unwavering. “They won’t be monuments to what went wrong; they’ll be proof of what we chose and survived. Don’t rewrite them as loss.”
Then I tuck myself back into him, into his warmth. I’m exhausted and hurting, but I am proud of us. “Besides," I hum, "this’ll make a great story. I’m just happy you’re in it.”
