48. Denial.
With a blanket over his legs, and a cloth wrapped around his side, Zuriel sat up in bed. His face was as pale as the sheet that covered him, and his lips had lost color. Silently, he stared out the window, seeing nothing, for he longed to see nothing.
At first when he had awoken, he had the belief that it was all a dream. The dream started beautifully with his entrance to Wisteria, and then it progressed gradually to one where he found a woman.
One who stole his mornings and captured his nights.
A woman who—like his brother had said in a letter—became his solace.
A woman to call his own.
His very own.
It was a beautiful dream.
Yet…
A wicked dream still.
Because at the end of that dream, he was betrayed by his lover.
Stabbed and left to bleed to death.
Thank Phineas, it was but a dream.
So he thought.
Aftet all, he could wake up from it, no matter how wicked it was. He would surely wake up. And he had woken up.
But then he had felt it.
