Author thoughts: I hope you're ready… tonight will be a long night..
Anamarija didn't say anything while I cried.
She just held me.
Her arms were steady around my shoulders, one hand slowly moving up and down my back like she was trying to calm a storm.
Minutes passed.
Maybe more.
I didn't know.
The house was quiet except for the rain hitting the windows and the sound of my uneven breathing.
Finally, Anamarija gently guided me toward the living room.
"Come," she said softly.
We walked slowly to the couch.
My legs felt weak, like the entire evening had drained every bit of strength from my body.
I sat down heavily.
Anamarija sat beside me.
For a while neither of us spoke.
She handed me a tissue from the table.
I wiped my face, taking a deep breath, trying to pull myself together.
The crying slowly stopped.
The tightness in my chest loosened just a little.
I leaned back against the couch and stared at the ceiling.
"I hate this," I whispered hoarsely.
Anamarija didn't rush to answer.
"I know," she said quietly.
Silence filled the room again.
But it wasn't as heavy as before.
After a few moments I sat up straighter and rubbed my face with both hands.
"I should take a shower," I said.
My voice still sounded tired.
"I feel like this entire day is stuck on my skin."
Anamarija nodded.
"That's probably a good idea."
I stood up slowly.
Before walking away, I looked at her.
"Thank you."
She gave me a small, warm smile.
"Go."
Then she added casually,
"I'll make some tea while you're in the shower."
That sounded… comforting.
Normal.
Something simple after such a chaotic night.
"Okay," I murmured.
I turned and walked toward the bathroom.
A few minutes later, warm water was running over my shoulders.
For the first time that night, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to breathe properly.
The warm water slowly washed over my shoulders.
For a while I just stood there under the shower, letting the heat sink into my skin. It felt like I was trying to wash away the entire day — the music, the whispers, the image of Chak dancing with Phalin… and that kiss.
My chest tightened again.
I quickly opened my eyes and rinsed the shampoo from my hair.
No.
I didn't want to think about it anymore.
After a few more minutes I turned off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. The mirror was slightly fogged, my reflection blurry and tired.
I wiped the glass with my hand.
My eyes were still a little red.
"Great," I muttered quietly.
After drying my hair, I walked back into my room and opened the wardrobe.
For a moment I hesitated.
Then I reached for the soft dark-blue pajamas that were folded on the shelf.
Chak's pajamas.
I had worn them before.
They were slightly bigger on me, but they smelled faintly like his detergent — clean and familiar.
I pulled them on and took a deep breath.
Then I went downstairs.
The warm scent of tea reached me before I even stepped into the living room.
Anamarija was already sitting on the couch, two mugs placed on the table.
She looked up when she saw me.
For a second her eyes paused on the pajamas, but she didn't comment.
"Feel better?" she asked.
"A little," I admitted.
I sat down on the couch across from her and picked up the mug. The warmth of it spread through my hands immediately.
For a while we just drank our tea quietly.
The rain outside had softened into a gentle drizzle.
The house felt calm.
Safe.
After a few minutes Anamarija placed her empty mug down and glanced at the clock on the wall.
"Wow," she said softly.
I followed her gaze.
It was already past eleven.
"It's late," she added, standing up.
She stretched her arms slightly and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I'm going to take a shower."
"Okay," I said quietly.
She gave me a small nod and walked toward to her room.
I stayed on the couch for another minute, finishing the last sip of tea.
Then I stood up.
For some reason I didn't feel tired.
Not even a little.
Instead, there was a restless energy sitting somewhere deep inside my chest.
Without thinking too much about it, my feet carried me down the familiar hallway.
Toward the art room.
I pushed the door open.
The faint smell of paint and charcoal greeted me immediately.
Moonlight slipped through the large window, illuminating the canvases stacked against the wall.
I walked slowly to the shelf and pulled out a blank canvas.
But not just any canvas.
This one was shaped like a heart.
I placed it carefully on the easel.
Then I picked up a pencil.
For a moment I just stood there.
My hand hovering above the surface.
Then I finally started drawing.
My pencil touched the canvas.
At first the lines were slow.
Careful.
Like my hand was still deciding what it wanted to say.
Then the movement became steadier.
I began drawing the shape I knew almost by heart.
The eagle.
The same eagle that hung on the necklace resting against my chest right now.
The one Chak had given me.
I reached up instinctively and touched the pendant through the soft fabric of the pajama shirt.
For a moment I just held it there between my fingers.
Then I looked back at the canvas.
The wings came first.
Wide.
Strong.
Every feather slowly forming under the pencil.
The sharp curve of the beak.
The proud angle of the head.
The eagle looked powerful… protective.
Just like the feeling I had the day Chak placed that necklace around my neck.
My pencil paused for a moment.
But the drawing wasn't finished yet.
Not even close.
I lowered the pencil again and began sketching something beneath the eagle.
Another symbol.
A simple pencil.
Long.
Slightly worn.
The kind used for sketching.
My kind of pencil.
The kind that had followed me everywhere since I was a kid.
I stared at the two images for a second.
The eagle.
And the pencil.
Then slowly, very carefully, I began drawing a thin ribbon-like line between them.
A soft connection.
Not tight.
Not forced.
Just… linked.
A bond.
Two completely different things.
Yet somehow connected.
My hand moved quietly across the canvas as the line curved gently between the two symbols.
Almost like a thread.
Almost like fate.
When I finally stopped, the room was completely silent.
I stepped back slightly and looked at the drawing.
The eagle.
The pencil.
And the bond tying them together.
My fingers unconsciously touched the necklace again.
And for the first time that night…
A small, quiet smile appeared on my lips.
When I finally stepped out of the art room, the house was quiet again.
The lights in the living room were still on.
Anamarija was sitting on the couch, her hair slightly damp from the shower, wearing comfortable clothes. She was holding a crossword puzzle and a pencil.
She looked up when I walked in.
"You're alright," she said lightly.
I sat down beside her, leaning back against the couch.
"Drawing always comforts me". I said with quietly voice.
"That explains it."
For a moment neither of us spoke.
The rain had stopped completely now.
The night outside the large windows was dark and still.
Anamarija glanced toward the wall clock.
Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
"It's already after one."
I followed her gaze.
1:12 AM.
Time had slipped by without me even noticing.
The house remained silent.
Too silent.
Chak still wasn't home.
My chest tightened a little at that thought.
Anamarija looked at me from the corner of her eye.
"Do you think he'll come back tonight?" she asked quietly.
For a moment I didn't answer.
My fingers slowly rubbed together as I stared at the floor.
Then I let out a small breath.
"I think…" I began softly.
But the words caught in my throat.
I swallowed and tried again.
"I think he went with Phalin."
The sentence tasted bitter.
Anamarija didn't interrupt.
She simply listened.
I forced a small, empty smile.
"It is their wedding night after all."
Saying the words out loud felt like pressing on a bruise.
I leaned back deeper into the couch and looked up at the ceiling.
The silence between us stretched.
Heavy.
Quiet.
But this time the ache in my chest was duller.
Not gone.
Just… tired.
And somewhere deep inside me, a small voice whispered something I wasn't sure I wanted to believe.
If Chak really chose to spend this night with Phalin…
Then maybe that was the answer I had been avoiding all along.
Anamarija leaned back deeper into the couch and stretched her arms above her head.
A small yawn escaped her.
"I swear," she muttered softly, rubbing one eye, "in twenty minutes I'm going to fall asleep right here."
I let out a quiet breath.
"Honestly… same."
The exhaustion of the entire day was finally catching up to me.
The emotions.
The tension.
Everything.
Neither of us had the energy to move upstairs.
So we simply shifted slightly on the couch, leaning back against the soft cushions.
The house was silent.
Only the faint ticking of the clock on the wall filled the room.
My eyelids slowly grew heavier.
Beside me, Anamarija adjusted the blanket lying on the couch and pulled it halfway over herself.
"Wake me up if he comes back," she murmured sleepily.
I gave a small nod, even though my eyes were already closing.
"Okay."
The last thing I saw was the dim light of the living room lamp.
Then darkness slowly pulled me under.