I didn't know peace could be more dangerous than swords.
Each night with her, the curse inside me grew louder, as if shouting: "Beware… what gives you warmth will snuff you out with fire."
But I plugged my ears, pretending not to hear.
I wanted to live a moment of peace, even if it was a lie.
---
One night I sat with her beneath the rain.
The sky wept, cold biting into my bones, yet she seemed happy as if the rain cleansed her of everything. She lifted her hands and laughed childishly:
— "Look! The rain writes on the ground… like secret ink."
I watched her in silence.
Inside me… I was tearing apart.
I said suddenly, my voice heavier than lead:
— "If you're an illusion… don't tell me. I want to believe you."
She turned slowly toward me, eyes full of questions.
She asked in a whisper nearly lost amid the rain:
— "Am I your illusion… or your salvation?"
I didn't answer.
Because I did not know.
---
In the following days I began to notice things I had not seen before.
Her looks that lingered too long at times.
Her silence when I mentioned the name "Mary," even if I could not finish it.
As if she knew something about me… more than she should.
I asked her once while staring into the fire:
— "Who told you I was someone else before this?"
She froze for a moment, then smiled quietly.
— "No one. But your eyes speak."
Her words did not convince me.
They only amplified the suspicion in my chest.
---
I began to dream strange nightmares.
I saw her standing over black blood, holding a broken rose.
She smiled at me… but the smile was not hers.
It was a dark smile, like a mask.
I woke up terrified and searched for her at my side.
I found her sleeping peacefully, her face innocent as an angel.
But inside me… a whisper: "Angels do not live in hell. She is not yours."
---
Yet I did not leave her.
I kept returning, like a slave bound to his master.
The curse tried to push me away… but it did not know I had begun to crave these chains.
But… one night I heard a voice that was not hers.
A faint murmur from her, and she did not know I was awake.
She murmured a name… my name.
Not how I call myself, but how I once was called.
My heart clenched.
How does she know?
How does she know who I was… when I myself cannot recall my old face?
---
In that moment… I felt the fracture begin.
The solace I had found… might have been a trap.
And the light I thought held my hand… might be another hand hiding a blade behind its back.