Corabelle followed him across the room, taking a seat in the armchair she’d pulled next to the bed to work. It felt both so recent and so long ago that she'd been in here, repairing those gods awful burns.

  Zaramir sat expectantly, waiting on her to speak first. They needed to talk, she knew that, but she wasn’t even remotely sure where to begin.

  She took a deep breath, trying to dispel the anxiety quivering in her chest, as she knotted her fingers around himself in her lap.

  Finally she found words, not good words, but words. Words that would hopefully get her some answers, “Do you… like me?”

  He stared at her blankly, as though she’d just spoken in a foreign language, “Of course.” He finally replied. “Why would you ask something like that? You’re one of the closest friends I've ever had. Have I done something--”

  She cut him off quickly, realizing he hadn’t understood her sentiment, “I know you like me. I mean, do you like me more than a friend?”

  His face paled, fiddling with the hem of his coat, eyes locked on it as though it were made of gold. He didn’t answer, seemingly equally at a loss for words as she was with the situation they found themselves in.

  “Zaramir?” She finally said, gently. “I promise I won’t be upset with the answer. I just… need to know.”

  He finally answered, his voice dry as sand, “Yes. Do you?” He still didn’t meet her gaze, as if afraid of the response.

  She was half hoping the kiss was going to be an amicable agreement that it was a simple, though not regrettable, mistake. That they would call it a one time thing and go about life as they had before. That would be so much easier.

  “I don’t know,” She finally said carefully, as his eyes flicked up to lock with hers.

  “You don’t have to lie.” While almost inaudible, the words oozed a thick venom, though he was no longer looking at her. His gaze had returned to the bunched up fabric in his hands.

  She reached over, placing her hand on top of his, “I’m not lying.” She said delicately. “I really don’t know. It’s just….” She gripped his hand more tightly. “This last…however long it's been… It’s been a lot, too much to think about. So, I would be lying if I gave you a real answer. It would be beyond unfair of me to lie to you. I do care about you. So, my answer is that I don’t know.”

  “Forgot I ever said anything.” He yanked his hand away, standing up, beginning to pace the room like a caged animal. “Forget anything ever happened. You are right. There’s too much happening in your life and I took advantage of that. It was wrong of me to kiss you. I’m sorry.”

  She stood up, “I’m not upset with you. That’s not what I was saying. I was just--- There’s too much happening right now for me to process. It would be unfair of me to promise anything one way or another.”

  “I understand. Of course. I understand. Let’s just leave this behind us.” He stumbled over his words. “Truly. Just forget this ever happened.”

  “I’m not saying--”

  “Just forget it!”

  The familiar serpent crawled over her mind, coiling, swallowing, consuming. Her mind fogged, a sharp headache forming in the core of her brain, like the creature had sunk in fangs into the recesses of her mind, taking something from her, swallowing its poisoned body whole. It was mere moments before the pain faded, leaving an eerie hollowness in its wake, like the feeling of death. But soon even that sensation was gone, replaced with an exhausted lightheadedness. Whatever the snake had taken was out of reach forever, and she didn’t even know what it was nor could she even find reason to care.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  She blinked, the snake coiling, sleeping, and vanishing from her brain. She squeezed the eerie feeling from her mind.

  She groaned. “You need to be more careful. What was so important this time that you couldn’t just tell me?”

  He turned back to face her, face full of confusion, “What?”

  “Stay out of my head.” She muttered.

  His face flushed, “What?” he repeated, more urgently.

  “I said, stay out of my head. I know you don’t mean to, but It feels really awful. I don’t know how you stand to communicate this way.”

  “What did I ask of you?” His voice was barely air, eyes wide as saucers.

  She shook her head, trying to think of what the message was this time, “I don’t know. I don’t remember. I don’t think you actually said anything?” She muttered, realizing she couldn’t recall why she was even here. “What were we talking about right before that? Gods, what was it? It was important...”

  His knuckles whitened as he balled his hands into fists at his sides, “You… forgot?”

  She shrugged with uncertainty, an uncanny feeling replacing her recollection, “I should remember. I know I should. I don’t know how I forgot.” She chuckled uncomfortably.

  He turned green, “You need to leave.”

  “You weren’t feeling well, that’s why I was here. I came to bring you tea.” She remembered. “You should drink it. It used to make me feel better when I was sick.”

  “I will.” He obviously lied. “But leave...please.”

  -------

  He managed to usher her out of the room before the acid burning his throat made its way up.

  The immense guilt eviscerated his stomach, leaving him coiled in a tight ball of pain after having made it to the bed. He could hardly move, self abomination shredding every fiber of his being.

  Her memories.

  He desperately wanted to take it back, but he had forcibly stolen her memories. No. Stolen would imply he could return them. He destroyed them. There was no way for him to repair this mistake.

  The only memories he’d ever planned on removing were those of her death and that was for her own good. His death were his only memories of his past life was the feeling of choking on sea water; Suffocating in icy darkness. That memory was moreterror, his heart feeling like it could stop any moment he remembered it. But, her death was so much worse. He wouldn’t let her live with that memory.

  Death was the only thing she should forget. But he'd taken the memory of their kiss. He’d done it without trying, with so much as thinking. He had wished she’d just forget that it’d ever happened. Let them go back to the way it was before when she didn’t feel that pity. Her friendship was enough, but he’d done something horrific to achieve that goal and he hadn’t even done it consciously.

  He was a danger to her. As much as he wished there was a way for him to safely forsake the role, he was her master. Control was too easy to take even when, especially when, he didn’t want to.

  He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t be around her, couldn’t let himself think about her without the agonizing risk he’d take her freewill.

  Even if he didn’t want her to remember what happened, it was her right to know, but he couldn't explain what he’d done without revealing the truth.

  He was trapped. There was no way of fixing it without endangering her further.

  How did this keep happening? How was he doing it without even thinking?

  A painful grip tightened around his heart as the correlation crept into his mind. His feelings toward her were the very thing that was unknowingly tormenting her. Both times he’d done this he’d been more than just thinking of her, he’d been letting his emotions for her run rampant.

  He could have pretended to deny his feelings forever, stamped them down and pretend to feel nothing but friendship, but now…

  It was no longer an option. He had to do more than pretend. He needed to make sure he would never do this again.

  He knew how to stop this, as much as he wished he wouldn’t have to.

  The last time he’d made the potion… poison….it had killed him slowly, taking away the strength from his Spark until he withered away to whatever was left to him besides magic. He was little more than a husk, a walking shell, like that of Corabelle’s old body. It was painful, excruciating, but he couldn’t care. That was the nature of the poison and it was what he wanted in the months following Kyrian’s death. After he was brought back, the Fae scorched the will to use it again out of him. This time he would have to find a way to be sure it didn’t kill him. It was imperative they wouldn’t care if he burned his spirit away.

  Because to be sure Corabelle lived a good, happy, peaceful life, he had to stop loving her.