Seraphina's Point of View
Rain blurred the streetlights into golden smears against the glass as I stumbled out of Adrian's house, clutching my purse like it was the only thing keeping me from unraveling. The cool air hit my skin, but it didn't cool the fire that burned through my chest. My heart felt too big for my ribs, aching, raw, and heavy with everything that had just happened.
I didn't run. I couldn't. The sky cracked open above me, thunder rolling like mock applause, and fat droplets began to fall… slow at first, then harder, until the world dissolved into a downpour. The cold rain soaked through my hair, plastering it to my face, sliding down my cheeks like the tears I'd already run out of.
Of course it would rain. How poetic. The universe had a cruel sense of humor.
"Add to my misery, why don't you?" I muttered, half laughing, half choking. My voice broke on the sound. "Perfect timing."
But I didn't move. I didn't shield myself or look for cover. I just stood there in the middle of the road, numb and empty, letting the rain wash away everything.. his betrayal, her lies, my disbelief. The water was cold, almost biting, but it couldn't touch the hollow ache eating through me from the inside. I kept walking, aimless, shoes slapping against the wet pavement until the city blurred into shadow and neon.
What crime had I committed to deserve this? What did I do so wrong that life kept tearing away everything I tried to hold on to?
The doctor's voice echoed in my head like a curse I couldn't shake. "I'm sorry, Miss Seraphina, but there's no cure."
No cure. No chance. No hope. A year… if I was lucky. Six months, more likely. Maybe less.
And now Adrian. My Adrian. I could still see the way he looked at her, the way his body moved against hers. The sound of Kara's moan still lingered, sharp and ugly, slicing through my skull.
It wasn't just betrayal, it was annihilation.
I lifted a hand to my face, wiping at the tears that had already mixed with the rain. "You're dying anyway," I whispered to myself, the words trembling, bitter. "So why fight for what's already lost? Why hold onto what's not yours to begin with?"
A taxi slowed near the curb. I flagged it down, my arm heavy, my fingers trembling. The driver rolled the window down, frowning when he saw me drenched. "Miss, you okay? Where you headed?"
"To the Black Veil Lounge," I said, naming the first place that came to mind, a private bar I'd passed once but never entered. My voice sounded detached, like it belonged to someone else. "And don't worry about the meter," I added, pulling crumpled bills from my purse. "Whatever it costs, keep the change."
He hesitated, then nodded and drove. I stared out the window, watching the city rush past in watery streaks of gold and blue. My reflection stared back at me… pale, ruined, a ghost wearing the face of someone who used to dream about the future.
When we stopped, I paid him without looking and pushed the door open. The night air hit me again, sharp and cold. The Black Veil's entrance glowed faintly, a narrow doorway lit by crimson lights. Bass thumped softly from inside, a low, steady heartbeat that didn't match my own.
Inside, it was dim and warm. Smoke and perfume tangled in the air. People were laughing, drinking, moving, alive in a way I suddenly envied. I found a booth tucked in a shadowed corner. It wasn't hidden, but it was dark enough to pretend I was invisible.
A waitress appeared. Her smile faltered when she saw my soaked clothes and smudged makeup. "What can I get you?"
"Rum," I said. "Raw. Undiluted."
She blinked. "Are you sure? That's…"
"Just bring it," I interrupted, my voice quiet but sharp. "Please."
When she left, I leaned back against the velvet seat, feeling it cling to my damp skin. The air smelled of whiskey and regret. The noise around me dulled, distant. It was like I was sitting underwater, trapped beneath the surface while the world moved on above.
The glass landed on my table with a soft thud. I picked it up, staring at the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the bar lights. My reflection shimmered in it, a stranger with haunted eyes.
"I guess this is the part where I start doing reckless things," I murmured, almost smiling. "Why not?"
The first sip burned. The second seared. The third felt almost comforting.
I coughed, laughing weakly through the sting as it trailed down my throat like fire. "God, that's awful," I whispered. "How do people drink this willingly?"
But I kept going. Because it was something to feel… something other than the hollow, crushing weight in my chest. My hand shook as I poured another, and another. The edges of the room began to blur, the lights softening, the laughter melting into a low hum.
I pressed my fingers to my temples, whispering into the glass, "No pain could ever hurt more than this."
The tears came before I could stop them. Hot, relentless, and unstoppable. I tried to wipe them away, but they kept falling, blurring everything… the lights, the table, my hands. So I stopped fighting. I just sat there, letting them fall, letting the rum burn through the wreckage inside me.
Time slipped away. I didn't know how long I sat there… minutes, hours, maybe both. The glass was empty, and so was I.
My voice was barely a whisper when I spoke again. "Speaking of firsts…" I said, tracing the rim of the glass with trembling fingers. "I've never had sex before."
The words hung in the air, quiet but heavy, echoing off the dim walls. I laughed… soft at first, then bitter, until it cracked like glass breaking.
The last word escaped me in a gasp… half a sob, half a laugh.
"I'm going to die," I whispered, breath catching in my throat. "Am I really… going to die a virgin?"