The comment section was arguing again.

It always was.

I scrolled past paragraphs of people defending the female lead, praising her, saying she was smart for playing both sides, that she did what she had to do.

I didn’t get it. I didn’t get her. How could she mess with a person's feelings like that?

My thumb hovered over the screen, then dragged back up, back to the last chapter. Back to the part I’d already read twice.

The part I hated.

“…and in the end, Adrian Vale stood alone—”

My chest tightened.

I kept reading anyway.

Because maybe—maybe—it would change.

It didn’t.

There was no last-minute twist. No hidden plan. No sudden escape.

Just betrayal.

Just silence.

Just—

“…he did not resist when the blade was driven through him.”

I stopped. I felt like crying for Adrian. He didn't deserve that from her.

The words blurred for a second before snapping back into focus, sharp and unforgiving.

That was it? That was how it ended? I sat there, staring at the screen like if I looked long enough, something would rewrite itself. Like the story would realize it messed up.

It didn’t. A laugh slipped out of me, dry and wrong.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

My grip tightened around my phone.

“He trusted her.” 

"He protected and defended her."

"He helped her by getting everything she wanted. Yet, through everything she only thought of betraying him." 

"Ugh. If I had a man that devoted, hah! What I wouldn't do?!" 

The words came out louder this time. Bitter. After every sentence I said, I felt myself getting even more worked up.

“She knew exactly what she was doing, and he still—”

I cut myself off, jaw clenching.

Because it wasn’t just that he trusted her.

It was that he wanted to. That was the worst part. He gave without a second thought. This bit--

Taking a deep breath to try and calm down.  Yet, when I think about it again. All that power. All that control. And in the end, he let himself believe someone actually—

My chest felt tight again.

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face.

“If I were there…” I muttered, voice low, frustrated. “I wouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t have—”

What? Would I have Saved him? Yes. Without even stuttering.

The thought hit before I could stop it.

My fingers curled slightly against my palm.

“…I would’ve saved you. I would've choose you.”

The room went quiet after that.

Too quiet.

I locked my phone and tossed it onto the couch beside me, pushing myself up. My head felt off—light, buzzing in a way I didn’t like.

“Whatever,” I muttered. “It’s just a story.”

Didn’t feel like it. With how I was feeling, I bet I could given her a beating.

I hadn’t eaten yet. That was probably it. Gettting up and going to the Kitchen. With Food, hopefully I'll feel better. And Done.

Something quick. Something easy.

I didn’t even pay attention to what I grabbed—just tore it open, leaned against the counter, and started eating straight out of the container.

Too fast.

Didn’t matter.

My thoughts were still stuck on that last scene.

On him. On the way it ended.

“He Didn’t even fight back…” I scoffed under my breath, shaking my head. “What kind of—”

The bite went down wrong.

I froze.

It was small at first. Just a hitch. A pause.

Then—

I coughed.

Once.

Twice.

Harder.

My hand came up to my throat instinctively, fingers pressing in like that would fix it.

“—tch—”

Another cough. Sharper this time. Painful.

Air didn’t come.

My body went cold.

No—no, no, no—not yet. I didn't even get to write my review of it--

I pushed off the counter, grabbing onto the edge, trying to force a breath in.

Nothing.

Panic hit fast. Too fast.

I knew this.

I’d seen this.

Choking.

Clear the airway. Stay calm. Don’t panic.

Don’t panic—

My chest hitched uselessly.

I slammed a fist lightly against my sternum, coughing again, harder, trying to force it out.

It didn’t work.

My vision flickered.

“Come-e on-n…” I rasped, though no sound really came out. “C-come o-on—”

Think.

Think.

My movements got sloppy, uncoordinated. I tried to remember—what was it? What was the angle? The pressure?

Why couldn’t I—

My knees hit the floor.

The impact barely registered.

Everything felt distant now. Fuzzy.

My grip loosened against my shirt.

This was stupid.

This was so stupid.

A weak, almost breathless laugh left me—or maybe it didn’t. I couldn’t tell anymore.

Out of everything…This? This is how I die?

My vision dimmed further, darkness creeping in at the edges.

And for some reason—

The only thing that came to mind was him. Standing there. Alone. Not fighting. Not even resisting.

'…idiot,' I thought, though there was no heat behind it anymore.

Or maybe there was. I didn’t know.

My body slumped, strength slipping out of me like it had somewhere else to be.

'…if I were there…'

The thought came slower this time. Fainter.

'…I would’ve saved you.'

Darkness swallowed the rest.

~

Something was wrong. That was the first thought. Not fear. Not confusion.

Just—

Wrong.

My body felt… off. Heavy, but not in the way it should’ve been. My limbs didn’t respond immediately when I tried to move them, like there was a delay between thought and action.

My breathing hitched.

Air.

Air came.

Sharp. Sudden. Too much at once.

I sucked in a breath like I’d been drowning, chest rising too fast, too hard. My heart slammed against my ribs like it was trying to make up for lost time.

I was—

Alive?

My throat was fine.

My eyes snapped open.

The ceiling above me wasn’t mine.

Too clean. Too white. Too—

Unfamiliar.

I frowned, blinking rapidly as my vision struggled to focus.

“…what…?”

My voice came out hoarse. Dry.

Not quite right.

I pushed myself up too quickly.

The world tilted.

Pain flared behind my eyes, sharp enough to make me suck in a breath through my teeth. My hand flew to my head instinctively—

—and paused.

Something flickered.

Not a memory. Not fully.

Just—

A fragment. A room. Bright lights. The smell of antiseptic.

Hands. Steady. Precise.

Knowledge that didn’t feel like mine.

My breath caught.

“…what—”

Another flicker. This time stronger. Names. Procedures. Tools. Steps.

My fingers curled slightly, like they remembered something my mind didn’t.

I froze.

Slowly—very slowly—I looked down at my hands. They weren’t shaking. Even if They should’ve been. But they weren’t.

“…no,” I whispered.

My heart started racing again, but for a different reason now.

Not panic.

Not entirely.

Something worse.

“…where am I?”