Elara's point of view
"Elara, open the door!""
His voice made me jump. This time it wasn't soft. It wasn't peaceful. It was quick, sharp, and full of fear.
"Silas?" I said, "I whispered," as I ran down the hall. My heart was racing, as if it knew something bad was about to happen before my mind did.
When I got there, he was in the living room. Not going away. Not halfway there. He looked strong. For real. His face was pale and his eyes were dark and wide.
He said right away, "You have to leave this house." "Now."
"What?" I shook my head, not sure what to think. "What are you talking about?"
"Get your things together," he said as he got closer. His hands were shaking. "Go back to your friend. Go anywhere you want. "Not here."
My chest got tight. "Silas, take it easy. You're making me scared.
He said, "You should be scared." "Yes, I am."
I looked at him. This was the first time I had seen him like this. Not this terrible. Not this scared.
I said, "Tell me what's wrong." "Don't just yell at me and expect me to run."
He ran a hand through his hair. "I remembered something."
My stomach sank. "Remembered what?""
He didn't answer right away. He looked around the room, as if the walls could hear him.
"This house..." he said slowly. "It's not just empty. "It wants food."
I laughed once, even though I was scared and weak. "That's not funny."
He said, "I'm not kidding." "Elara, you don't get it. It eats people who stay too long. People who love too much. People who don't want to let go.
My chest got tight again. "You're talking about me."
"Yes," he said in a low voice. "And me."
I moved closer to him, my voice shaking. "So what? You want me to just go? Like this didn't mean anything?"
He looked at me then, really looked at me, and his eyes got softer.
"That's the problem," he said quietly. "It means a lot."
I could feel tears in my eyes. "Then don't ask me to leave."
He reached for me and stopped just short of touching my arms. "You'll disappear if you stay."
"I already feel like I am," I said. "With or without you."
He shut his eyes for a moment, as if what I said hurt him more than he thought it would.
He said, "You are stronger than you think." "You can leave."
I shook my head. "Not from you."
There was a pause between us. A lot. In its own way, it's loud.
He moved closer. I didn't stop him this time.
"You don't get to choose for me," I said. "You can't save me by leaving."
He said, "I'm not trying to save you." "I'm trying to keep you safe."
I laughed softly, broken. "Why should I live if I'm going to be alone again?""
He couldn't breathe. I could see it in his eyes. The same fear I had. The same need.
He whispered, "Elara..."
"I pick you," I said. "Even if it's not right. Even if it hurts." Even if it goes wrong."
He looked at me with a mix of emotions. He then slowly put his hands on my face. Warm. For real. I had trouble breathing.
He whispered, "You shouldn't say things like that." "You make it hard to leave."
"Then don't," I said.
He thought about it for a second.
He kissed me after that.
Not nice. Not being careful. It was desperate, deep, and full of everything we had been holding back. I held on to his shirt with my hands. It felt like my heart was going to burst. I could feel him—really feel him—solid, warm, and real.
This was not right. This was risky. And I had never wanted anything more.
He drew me in. I forgot about the house. Forget the fear. I forgot the rules.
I only knew him.
He then broke the kiss and breathed heavily.
He said, "No." "This is how it wins."
I blinked, confused. "What's going on?""
He said, "The house." "It wants this." It wants us to forget about everything else.
I shook my head. "You're lying to yourself." You don't want to admit that you want me too.
He looked at me like I had just told him the most horrible truth.
He whispered, "I want you so much it hurts." "That's the issue."
My chest hurt. "Then stay." "Let it kill us both."
He held my shoulders, not roughly, but firmly. "You're not paying attention. "I died here."
The words hit me like ice water.
"You... what?"
He said, "I died in this house," his voice shaking. "Years ago." I just remembered it.
My heart raced. "No... you said you didn't remember."
He said, "I didn't." "Until the house showed me."
My legs were weak. "How?""
He took a drink. "I was in love. I didn't want to go. I didn't pay attention to the signs. "I should have left, but I stayed."
My throat got tight. "Who stayed?""
He stared at me. Right into me.
"For someone just like you."
I took a step back and held my breath. "So, I'm taking her place?""
"No," he said quickly. "You are becoming her."
The room seemed smaller. The air was heavier.
He went on, "The house doesn't want me to remember." "It wants me to forget and fall in love again." Again and again.
"With other people?" I said softly.
"Yes."
"And they all... go away?""
He nodded slowly.
I thought I might pass out because my chest hurt so much.
"So what happens next?"Why?" I asked.
His voice was almost a whisper. "It makes a choice."
I cried. "What choice?""
"Who stays?" he asked. "And who fades."
I shook my head. "No. No, that's not true. You're just telling yourself that.
"I saw it," he said. "I felt it." The house won't let two hearts live together.
We were surrounded by silence.
There can only be one of them left.
The words rang in my head like a curse.
I said, "You're lying."
"I wish I was," he said.
I slowly walked toward him again because I was afraid he would disappear if I moved too quickly.
"Then pick me," I said. "Please let me stay."
His face broke.
"I can't," he said softly. "I already did it once." And I lost it all.
I grabbed his hand. This time, he didn't pull away.
"I don't care if loving you means I disappear," I said.
He held my hand tightly, and his eyes were full of pain.
"That's why the house will take you first."
The lights went out.
The walls made a low, deep noise, like something was breathing.
Silas looked around in a panic. "It's starting."
"What is starting?" I asked.
He looked at me with fear and truth in his eyes.
He said, "The house remembers how I died." "And now... so do I."