Chapter 66. Please Don’t Go

Chapter 66: Chapter 66. Please Don’t Go

Chapter 66. Please Don’t Go

Don’s eyes searched all over Rosa’s face. Her eyelids fluttered, tears continuing to spill from her glistening eyes, her lips parted as she fought for breath.

Worry overwhelmed him like a heavy mountain of rock. His fingers traced against her cheeks, gently wiping away the streams of tears.

"Rosa," he called out, his voice laced with extreme concern. "Rosa, are you okay?"

He patted her cheek softly. Her breath was still hitching. Her chest heaved up and down as she struggled to catch her breath, finding it hard to breathe.

"What the fuck?" he murmured, examining her with deep anxiety. He pressed his palm against her chest, noticing that her pulse was dangerously erratic.

"Rosa, are you okay?" he asked again.

She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t find the strength to bring out a single word. He pressed his hand firmly against her chest to anchor her.

"Breathe," he urged. "Calm down, take it easy."

There was still no response from her, only the ragged sound of her gasping.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

Cradling her in his arms, he lifted her off the cold ground and swiftly moved out of the studio. He walked as briskly as he could back toward her room, pushing the door open with his shoulder and slamming it shut with his foot. He rushed over to her bed and gently laid her down. Leaning over her, he examined her pale face, carefully brushing strands of her rough, sticky, wet brown hair away. His thumb gently traced the underside of her eyes and then her cheeks.

"Rosa," he called softly.

She was staring into space, her vision clouded, her eyes brimmed with tears. It was like she was staring at something else entirely—like she was seeing a phantom that was making it intensely hard for her to catch her breath. Her lips continued to tremble, tears poured endlessly down her temples, and her chest heaved as cold sweat broke out across her skin.

Don frowned intensely, his mind racing. What the fuck is the meaning of this? he wondered in desperation. I haven’t done anything. I haven’t triggered anything. What the hell is going on?

"Rosa," he called again, trying to keep his tone steady. "Calm down, calm down."

Gradually, her erratic breathing began to slow down just a little bit. He watched as her eyelids fluttered, her gaze slowly shifting until she turned her eyes to look at him, staring at him square in the eyes. Relief flooded through him.

"Rosa, can you see me?" he asked.

She slowly nodded her head. He saw her throat work up and down as she swallowed hard. He traced his palm against her face once more.

"Relax, breathe," he said softly.

Her lips parted, trembling violently. "I can’t... I can’t... I can’t breathe," she managed to choke out.

His eyebrows pulled together in worry. He felt her fear, saw the terror in her eyes as her hands lifted and instantly grabbed his shirt, her fists trembling violently against the fabric. She was obviously terrified, deeply scared by whatever was happening to her.

Don frowned, staring down at her. His mind flashed back to a similar experience from before—one where it had felt like she was standing at the very brink of death. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth together in frustration and pain.

This is happening again, he thought bitterly. Can’t you just have mercy? Why does everything have to be exactly the same? Why not just settle for a change? Why not just be lenient with me?

He swallowed hard, opening his eyes to stare back down at her. Gently, he placed his hand against the left side of her chest, right over her heart, feeling her thumping, erratic pulse beneath his palm. Rosa’s breathing remained harsh and uneven.

Closing his eyes, Don focused. Just like before, he felt a subtle pulse vibrate from his own nerves, filtering through his fingertips and caressing her skin. Slowly, he felt her rapid heartbeat begin to calm down under his touch. The frantic heaving of her chest reduced. She began to relax, her breathing gradually returning to a steady rhythm. Her eyelids fluttered, her lips hanging slightly open.

As he kept his hand still on her chest, he saw her eyes become hazy. Her eyelids drooped into sharp slits as she slowly drifted into a deep sleep. He observed her carefully, noting the peaceful way she now breathed, her body relaxing completely as the intense trembling faded away.

Don closed his eyes and let out a long breath, clenching his teeth tightly. He looked up at the ceiling, his own eyelids fluttering with raw anger and exhaustion.

"Fuck you," he whispered to the empty air—to whatever invisible force or fate was orchestrating this nightmare. "Just... fuck you so much. Did you really have to go this far?"

He shifted his focus back down to Rosa. Her head had tilted to the side, her breathing soft and normal now that she was fast asleep. Pure annoyance and heartache flooded him. He tilted his head back, letting out a bitter scoff, and used his free hand to brush back the strands of hair that had fallen into his own eyes.

Knelt beside her on the bed, he stared down at her sleeping form. Just what the hell was that? he thought.

His eyes raked over her, tracing the supple, soft shape of her full lips, which were slightly parted as she released soft puffs of air. He looked at her long dark lashes resting over her rosy cheeks, and her ruffled hair spread out across the pillow like a halo, giving her a magnificent, painful beauty. He gnashed his teeth together, closing his eyes and breathing out for what felt like the hundredth time.

I am at a crossroads, he thought to himself, a dark hopelessness creeping into his chest. I don’t know what to do anymore. At this point, isn’t it just better to end my life and forget about all of this? I can’t continue with this nightmare.

He stared down at her motionless body. His eyes traced down to her neck, still glistening with cold sweat, and down toward her chest where his hand rested. He frowned slightly, suddenly realizing what he was doing. His palm was resting right against her skin, feeling the faint warmth through her sweater.

Blood rushed through his veins, making his pulse spike. He closed his eyes, grinding his teeth and turning his head away. He quickly pulled his hand away.

Jesus, he thought in a sudden wave of guilt. What the fucking hell did you do, Don?

He rested his other palm hard against his stomach, trying to pull himself together. He could still feel the phantom sensation—the softness of her skin against his fingertips, the frantic heaving of her chest, the way she had grabbed his shirt like she was clinging to a lifeline and didn’t want to let him go. He took a slow, deep breath and shook his head to clear it.

What now? he asked himself.

He stayed frozen in that position for a few minutes, completely overwhelmed, before finally shaking his head.

Okay, I’m so done with this, he thought, panic mixing with exhaustion. This is going to fucking kill me.

Determined to put some distance between them, he tried to pull away from the bed to get as far from her as possible. But all of a sudden, he heard her let out a low groan.

When he turned back to look at her, Rosa’s hand unconsciously reached out and grabbed his right hand just as he was drawing away. Her fingers tightened around his wrist, pulling his hand back onto her chest and pressing it firmly against herself.

His fingers curled into the softness of her sweater, his breath instantly hitching in his throat.

How can someone be so soft and so evil at the same time? he wondered, a wave of sheer disbelief washing over him.

His heart pounded wildly as her grip tightened, pulling his hand firm against her chest and dragging him closer with a sudden strength that took him completely off guard. Before he could stop himself, he was hovering right over her, his face inches away from hers.

Her eyelids fluttered and slowly opened, her sleepy, dazed eyes staring straight into his. Don stared down at her with wide eyes, completely frozen in shock.

"Please don’t go," she muttered softly, her warm breath brushing against his face.