I need that fire just to know that I'm awake

She can feel the tension beneath her silver skin, almost intangible against her fractured cheek. For a moment, she wishes she could erase it. Wishes she could give her exactly what she needed, to tell her everything she longed to hear. But she can’t. No matter how much she wishes it, she cannot pull memories from an empty well.

She squeezes her eyes closed against that perfect silver, a soft, tremulous breath escaping her pale lips, warm against Perse’s skin. As though closing her eyes might prolong the moment. Might help them forget how broken and empty she is.

‘You are,’ she insists.

Her smile is a little more hollow this time, and she presses her eyes more tightly closed, trying to prevent the tears that threaten to escape. She doesn’t know where they had come from. She only knows that her entire chest aches and her breath seems a little harder to draw.

Inhaling a sharp, shaky breath, she withdraws abruptly, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes. But still she meets her gaze boldly, uncaring that she might see too much within those golden eyes. There is a plea in Perse’s voice when she asks if she remembers anything at all, and the vice around her chest tightens. She can feel it there, just beyond her reach, so close yet always too far.

“No,” she finally says, her voice cracking on the word, her gaze dimming. She continues in a whisper, unable to help herself. “I didn’t even know my name, until someone told me.”

Joscelin