Chapter 2-Hearts apart.
"You remember everything, Sophia," Sonia said, her voice sharp with memory and blame.
"You remember, and you still pretend you don't," Sonia continued, pacing slowly in front of her.
"That's the cruelest part."
Sophia stood still. She always did when Sonia spoke like this.
Her calm was not confidence; it was restraint. Her hands were loose at her sides, fingers trembling slightly, heat flickering under her skin.
"I remember us," Sophia said softly. "I remember love."
Sonia laughed, but it wasn't warm.
"You remember comfort. You remember being chosen."
"That's not fair," Sophia replied.
"I never chose power over you."
"You didn't have to," Sonia snapped.
"Power chose you first."
Sophia lifted her eyes. "Is that what this is about again?"
Sonia stopped pacing.
Her dark eyes locked onto Sophia's face, searching, accusing.
"Again?" she repeated. "You say that like it's small."
"It's not small," Sophia said quickly.
"But it's not the truth you think it is."
Sonia stepped closer. "Then say it. Say you never felt different.
Say you never knew the world bent toward you."
Sophia swallowed. "I knew."
Sonia's jaw tightened. "There it is."
"But knowing isn't wanting," Sophia said.
"I wanted you."
"You had me," Sonia said. "That was the problem."
Silence stretched between them, thick and painful.
Sonia broke it. "Do you remember the night we promised each other?"
"Yes," Sophia said instantly.
"Say it."
"We promised not to let the fire come between us."
Sonia's lips curved into something bitter. "And yet here we are."
The air around them shifted, not with flames, but with words that burned deeper.
"You think I didn't try?" Sonia said, her voice lowering.
"You think I didn't bleed myself dry chasing the same light that followed you like a loyal animal?"
Sophia took a step forward. "I never asked you to chase."
"You never had to," Sonia replied.
"I was already running."
Sophia reached out. Sonia didn't pull away this time, but she didn't lean in either.
"Look at me," Sonia demanded.
Sophia did.
"Do you see how tired I am?" Sonia asked. "Do you see what loving you cost me?"
Sophia's voice cracked. "I see it. I always saw it."
"Then why didn't you stop me?" Sonia whispered.
Sophia closed her eyes. "Because I thought loving you meant trusting you."
Sonia's breath hitched. "And I thought loving you meant becoming you."
The fire stirred, responding to the weight of their words.
"You feel it, don't you?" Sonia said. "How it listens to you even now."
Sophia shook her head.
"I'm holding it back."
"Why?" Sonia asked. "Afraid of what it'll say?"
"I'm afraid of what you'll hear," Sophia replied.
Sonia stepped back, spreading her arms slightly. "Let it speak."
Sophia's voice was barely audible. "This doesn't have to end like this."
Sonia's eyes glistened. "It already has."
The fire flared, not exploding, but pulsing, like a heart caught between beats.
"You always stand there like you're innocent," Sonia said. "Like you didn't watch me change."
"I watched you suffer," Sophia said. "And I stayed."
"You stayed above me," Sonia corrected.
Sophia shook her head. "Beside you."
Sonia laughed softly. "If that were true, we wouldn't be standing on opposite sides now."
The space between them felt larger than the room itself.
"Do you love me?" Sonia asked suddenly.
Sophia didn't hesitate. "Yes."
"Even now?
"Yes."
"Even knowing what I've done?" Sonia pressed.
Sophia stepped closer. "Especially now."
Sonia's eyes burned. "That's not love. That's pity."
"No," Sophia said firmly. "It's choice."
Sonia turned away, shoulders tight. "I didn't want to choose darkness."
Sophia followed her. "You don't have to."
"But I wanted to be equal," Sonia said.
"I wanted to matter the same way."
"You already did," Sophia insisted. "Just not in the way you demanded."
Sonia spun back around. "Listen to you.
Still deciding what counts."
The fire surged higher, circling them, responding to the rising tension.
"Stop," Sophia pleaded. "This isn't a battle."
"It is to me," Sonia said. "Because I've been fighting it alone."
"You weren't alone," Sophia said.
Sonia's voice broke. "Then why do I feel like I'm disappearing next to you?"
Sophia reached for her again, slower this time.
"You're not disappearing. You're hurting."
Sonia didn't move. "And what do people do when they're hurting,
Sophia?"
Sophia whispered, "They ask for help."
Sonia's smile was thin. "Or they take what was denied to them."even if it should be pricey
The fire crackled sharply.
Sophia stiffened. "Sonia… don't."
"Why not?" Sonia asked.
"You were born with everything. I had to become something else."
Sophia felt the shift then—not in the fire, but in Sonia.
"You're not listening anymore," Sophia said.
"I listened my whole life," Sonia replied. "Now it's my turn to be heard."
The flames rose between them, not violent, but alive with tension.
"This is still us," Sophia said desperately.
"Underneath all of this."
Sonia met her gaze, tears shining. "That's what makes it unbearable."
They stood there, love and resentment tangled so tightly neither could tell where one ended.
Sonia took a
slow breath.
"If I walk away now, I lose myself."
Sophia whispered, "And if you don't?"
Sonia's eyes darkened. "Then I lose you."
The fire pulsed once, heavy and waiting.
Sophia stepped forward anyway.
"Sonia," she said gently.
Sonia looked at her, pain and longing colliding in her expression.
And in that moment, with memory and accusation burning side by side, Sonia made her choice—