Finally Rekindled

Selene’s POV

We’re arguing again. The kind of argument that begins with words but ends with silence—dangerous silence. The kind that hums with all the things we’re too afraid to admit.

My chest tightens with every syllable. His voice is steady, low, and restrained, while mine trembles, thin and sharp as glass. I hate the way I sound—angry, desperate, begging him to understand me while pushing him further away.

Then there’s a flash—movement, a stumble, the world tipping sideways. My head hits something hard. And suddenly I’m weightless.

The water swallows me whole.

The world is blue and endless, my thoughts scattering like air bubbles. My lungs burn. My body thrashes, but I can’t tell which way is up. Everything is quiet—terrifyingly quiet—except for the dull roar of blood in my ears.

A thin stream of red drifts past my face like silk. My own? I can’t tell. It’s strangely beautiful, painting ribbons through the water. My chest aches. My vision darkens.

And then—light. Warmth. Breath.

I