TWISTED ꜜ LOUIS PARTRIDGE

⟾ 18 | TOGETHER WE BURN

"Whatever happens in there," she whispered under her breath, "do nothing."

I furrowed my brows slightly. "Nothing?"

"I don't need you to defend me, and I don't need you to save me," she said, her voice sharp, "I know you're good at reading people, Partridge, so just stand there, listen, and read them."

"And what if they hurt you?"

"Then they hurt me," she said, "you of all people should know I'm used to it."

There was a slight edge to her voice, and I knew what she wanted to say. What she should have said. You of all people should know I'm used to it, because you were one of the people who hurt me. That's what she really meant.

But what could I apologize for? She wouldn't accept it even if I tried.

So the only thing I could do was do as she said, because maybe that would make up for it. Do nothing, read them, and listen. My regrets riddled in the partnership I formed with her. But now I'm finding myself regretting my own actions, not her.

Nearly drowning in my own revelations, I let the heavy air surround me as she slowly pushed open the stone door, the cool air of the building hitting our faces like wind. It should have been refreshing compared to the blistering Caribbean heat, but it only sent chills up my spine.

An abandoned castle on a beach—strange choice for the niche of the Ashes. There was nothing to burn here.

I knew nothing about the place we were walking into, but Ash seemed to know everything. I wondered if she just pretended to, and just went with her gut. I've been wondering a lot about her lately, and I know I shouldn't, but she's still written like a map—drawn out for the world to see, but still so hard to read.

Then again, these were her parents.

She knew them.

I stuck to her shadow, trailing behind her through rotting stone walls, the hairs on my skin standing up in alarm with every turn we took. I wasn't sure if I was prepared to defend myself or protect her first. But she said she didn't need protection. I'm not sure why that bothered me.

"Quiet," she said, stopping in front of a decaying door, "they're here."

Tell-tale signs of life were littered in the area we know stood, from the maniac laughter coming from behind the barrier separating us, as well as the soft glow of light protruding from underneath the cracks of the door.

"Are you okay?" I whispered.

She shrugged. "Define okay."

I opened my mouth to speak, but cut myself off when I saw her morph into another version of herself. Just like yesterday, she easily shape-shifted into someone else. That time she was nice, this time she was unreadable.

Her blank expression had hardened into one of anger, but her eyes seemed dim and void of emotion. Was this how she lived? Constantly changing her person to fit those around her?

I wondered who she became when she was around me.

I doubt it was her true self.

Putting the thoughts aside, I watched as she pressed the palm of her hand against the door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open.

And we were basked in the light.

Somehow, it didn't feel warm at all.

"We've been expecting you," a voice said, shielded by the bright kitchen aura that was now blinding my view, "[y/n]."