I took a deep breath, attempting to escape the world around me. Dr. Linda had told me to think of my happy place whenever these thoughts consumed me.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything will be fine.

Happy place, I repeated to myself, like a mantra. But where was my happy place? I struggled to find it, no matter how hard I tried. I once even went days with my eyes closed, hoping to find solace, but it only left the organization in disarray.

"Jax," a voice called out, and suddenly, the darkness behind my closed eyelids began to dissipate. It was a new sensation, something I had never experienced before. The shock nearly compelled me to open my eyes, but I resisted. I had come too far to let go now.

"Come here," Moon's voice beckoned, accompanied by a smile. Even in my imagination, his eyes seemed clouded and distant, but there was a change in the way he looked at me. It was as if I was the sole focus of his attention.

Taking a hesitant step, my physical body remained motionless as a rock. Yet, in this ethereal realm, I closed the distance between us effortlessly. Moon appeared breathtaking. In my happy place, the sky was usually cloudy, as I preferred such weather, but now, I longed to witness the sun's reflection on his dark brown hair.

The clouds parted, revealing a sun-drenched scene.

Moon sat on the ground, his legs spread open invitingly, and I found myself nestled between them, resting my head on his lap.

"You're both tender and unyielding, just as I remember," I murmured, gently caressing his cheek. Some parts of his body were firm, like his stomach, while others were semi-hard, like his thighs, and some were soft, like his cheeks.

"You are truly beautiful," I remarked, captivated by his eyes. They were the purest shade of green I had ever beheld—radiant and warm, reminiscent of precious jade.

"What is it that you desire from your happy place, Jax?" I recalled Dr. Linda's words from our last session. "Once you find it, what do you wish to make of it?"

My gaze lingered on the Moon in my mind. There was no denying it; he was my happy place. He encompassed everything I yearned for but could never possess.

Am I in love? I questioned, grappling with the ambiguity of my emotions. Only moments ago, I had tried to dismiss this feeling as mere physical attraction, yet here I was, in his presence—albeit imagined—and feeling more serene than ever before.

"I think I love you," I confessed to the Moon in my dreams, though uncertainty clouded my words. We hardly knew each other, having met just once. "Say that you love me."

Moon remained silent, his gaze fixed upon me. It sent a pulsating ache through my chest, a weightiness in my throat.

It made me feel sick, and yet, it fueled my desire for more.

"Moon," I pleaded once again, my hands grasping his shoulders, shaking him. This was my happy place, after all. Shouldn't the person I love reciprocate my feelings in this realm? "Say that you love me."

He remained mute, refusing to echo those words. He didn't love me. Was I even worthy of love within the confines of my own imagination? Too damaged to be embraced by something I had conjured?

"Why, Moon?" I exclaimed, sitting upright and clutching his shoulders. "Why won't you say it back?"

Tears? No, they couldn't be tears. As they cascaded to the ground, they stained it crimson. Even the grass had transformed, no longer vibrant green. I always believed grass was meant to be green.

But wait... No.

I glanced around, noticing patches of untouched green amidst the chaos. What was it?

Blood.

The realization hit me like a wave. The grass had turned dark from blood, and it originated from Moon.

Where was he? He had vanished from my sight. Wasn't he my happy place? Why did he leave? How could he abandon me? He was mine, my sanctuary. No one had the right to take away my happy place.

On the ground.

I forced my gaze downward, my heart pounding in my chest.

Indeed, blood stained the grass, painting it a somber hue.

Moon was bleeding, a gash marking his stomach.

What had transpired?

Dizziness and nausea engulfed me.

"Jax," Moon's voice called out weakly, his smile fading as the color drained from his face. "You're holding the knife."