Rags To Royals (Royal #1: Book 1) | ✔

51

-• valentine's day •-

The roaring winds slice through my hair, horror freezes my limbs like a slab of ice, hard and unmoving. But the emotions that pass through me are anything but. I take a shaky step out, practically force myself before the elevator closes again. He hasn't noticed me. I don't think he is even in the right state of mind to be conscious of his surroundings. Tears brim my eyes and fall heedless, trickling down my jaw that trembles harshly, channeling all of its strength in forcing back the sob that insists to break through.

I clutch the tiffin box tightly in my hands, not wanting to drop it and startle him. The edge of the railing is hardly a few centimetres. His toes are almost curled, gripping onto them, as though he is afraid of the only possibility this situation brings forward if anything goes wrong. A slight sway of his body and he'd be going down fifty feet.

I take a deep breath to get rid of the light headiness consuming me. My vision almost turns black but I fist my hand, trying to stay conscious.

How are you supposed to react when you see a family member on the verge of their death?

The world never taught me.

Not when I lost my mother, neither now.

Grief never teaches you how to overcome it, rather how to live with it.

And I'm still living with it.

I don't want another company of misery.

It's a strong, almost unbearable realisation, but I truly love this man. This man, who entered my life with his beaming amber eyes, shining like the sun, offering me his warm smiles and kind words, this man who accepted the brotherhood he was thrust with so abruptly, and still did justice to it. I can't lose him. I can't lose another person I'm in love with. Because this time, the grief that might come, would consume me forever.

I don't know how to approach him. How to let him know I'm here, and that I'll be haunted with this memory for the rest of my life if he took the wrong step, that he'd be not only losing his life, but taking mine away as well.

I decide it's better to let him know my presence physically than audibly. So I slowly walk to the other side of the terrace. It forms a L, and he's on the end side of the letter. When my shadow falls in the light, he becomes aware and slowly turns his head.

"Don't," I mouth, pleading him through my eyes.

His face transforms into shock and he blinks, hastily getting down the railing instead of diving forward. The relief that surges through me almost drains me off the power and I collapse on the ground. The tiffin hits the floor first, rolling away from my feet.

"Ta- Tara," he rushes up to me and crouches to my level. "Tara, I was not-" I throw myself in his arms, locking my hands on his lower back tightly.

I just hug him, demanding no explanation, wildly grateful he didn't act according to his body language. Because despite him saying he wasn't going to, I knew he was contemplating it. It reflected on his face. The man who clings to hope, looked despaired and lonely.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, stroking my head gently, rocking us back and forth as I break down in sobs. The terror overshadowing every other emotion vanishes, causing anguish and gratitude to surge forward with force. I've felt helpless countless of times, but the one that stuck with me, was when I was compelled to unplug my mother's life support and now today, in the moment that almost snatched my brother from me.

"I thought I was going to lose you," my words don't make sense to my ears, but I hope they do to his. Because in my head, they are comprehensive, yet when I let go of them through my mouth, they sound blubbered, a messy string of words shakily strung together.