Chapter 32: The Thread That Never Was
The world outside the window lay still beneath a velvet sky, wrapped in the quiet tension of waiting. It wasn't the peace of the calm before a storm — it was the quiet after it. The silence that settled like a second skin, suffocating in its stillness.
The city had fallen, but in its absence, the weight of its silence hung heavy. No snarls. No distant cries. No signs of life beyond the four walls of the apartment.
Selene sat on the edge of the couch, her figure as composed as ever. Her silver — blonde hair shimmered softly in the low light, a stark contrast to her pale skin. The bandages were clean now, snug around her side. The bleeding had stopped, but Aria knew better.
Selene was still hurting.
Aria watched her. The steady rhythm of her breath, the quiet grace with which she moved. It didn't matter how much Selene hid it — Aria saw the small tremors in her fingers, the slight sharpness in her eyes that would always betray her strength.
The wound wasn't the only thing that bled.
But it was the one Aria could see.
Her fingers twisted in her lap, unable to rest. Her gaze flitted between Selene and the gauze. She wanted to fix it, to do something — anything — to make Selene whole again.
And yet, all she felt was helplessness, an ache that pulsed beneath her ribs like something darker than sorrow.
"It should've been me," Aria whispered, the words escaping before she could stop them.
Selene's eyes flicked to hers, sharp and cutting.
"Don't say that," she said, her voice steel.
"But I —"
"No."
Selene's tone brooked no argument. The finality in it cut deeper than any blade.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air thickened, but not with the usual tension. It was something softer. Something raw.
Selene turned slightly, her expression unreadable, but her eyes — her eyes were open in a way Aria had never seen. Vulnerable. Unarmored.
"I would bleed a thousand times," Selene said, quiet and deliberate, "before I let anything touch you."
Aria's breath caught.
It wasn't just the words. It was the truth in them. The quiet, shattering weight of what Selene meant. She would endure pain, ruin, death — anything — if it meant keeping Aria from breaking.
Aria reached forward before she could think. Her fingers trembled as they touched Selene's hand. A pause. A breath.
"Let me help this time," she murmured. "Let me do something."
Selene didn't answer. Her gaze searched Aria's face, as if trying to read the intention behind her plea, the shape of the storm brewing inside her.
Then Aria leaned in slowly, her hand brushing Selene's jaw with barely - there contact. Her heart pounded, wild and loud in her ears. She could feel Selene's breath — warm, fragile, defiant.
"I don't know how," Aria whispered, "but I feel it. In me. Like it's been waiting for you."
Selene blinked, confused — but she didn't pull away.
And Aria kissed her.
It wasn't rushed. It wasn't hesitant. It was reverent — like a vow whispered into the bones of the universe. Her lips pressed against Selene's with gentle pressure, but behind it was something else — something deeper. The fear of losing her. The hunger to save her. The ache that came from loving someone so much it became unbearable.
At first, there was nothing.
Then heat bloomed between them.
Selene gasped softly against her mouth as something warm sparked to life — golden and alive. A flicker. A pulse. The kiss deepened, fueled by something older than memory and brighter than blood. Aria felt it rising through her chest like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
And Selene felt it too.
The warmth coiled in her wound, weaving through torn tissue, flooding her with something that made her spine arch slightly. Her fingers gripped Aria's wrist — not to stop her, but to hold her closer.
When Aria finally pulled back, her lips parted and breath unsteady, she saw it. A soft glow where the bandages had slipped away. The wound had closed — completely. No blood. No tear. Only smooth skin, radiant and marked by the faintest shimmer.
A tiny sigil - like spiral, glowing faintly gold. Invisible to the world, except to Aria and the woman she loved.
Selene stared down at her side, then up at Aria, her voice caught somewhere between disbelief and awe.
"…What was that?"
"I… I don't know," Aria breathed. "But I felt it. I needed to help you and — and it happened."
Selene's fingers touched the now - healed flesh. "That wasn't just instinct. That was power."
Aria sat back slowly, her hand still hovering near Selene's. Her lips tingled with leftover magic. The air between them buzzed with a low, electric hum.
"You never healed me like that before," Selene whispered. "Not last time, our past life."
Aria's heart stuttered. "Last time?"
Selene froze.
There it was again — something unspoken. Some memory she wasn't sure she should have uttered aloud. Her eyes darkened with conflict, with shadows that Aria couldn't name.
"You said 'last time,'" Aria repeated. "What did you mean?"
Selene didn't look away. She didn't lie. But she said nothing.
Aria could've pushed. Could've demanded. But she didn't. Because deep inside, she already felt the truth — the thread of it pulling tighter.
This wasn't the first time.
Not for Selene.
Maybe not for either of them.
"I don't remember," Aria said softly. "But I feel it. When I touch you. When I kiss you. It's like I've done it before."
Selene's throat moved as she swallowed hard. "You have."
The words cut like silk — too soft to hurt, but impossible to ignore.
Aria's pulse roared. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I lost you once," Selene said, and this time, the pain bled through every syllable. "And I didn't know if I could bear losing you again."
A quiet bloomed between them, too loud and too full of everything they hadn't said.
Aria reached for her hand again, and this time Selene let her. Their fingers intertwined. Aria's thumb brushed the back of Selene's hand, feeling the tremble still hiding beneath her strength.
"I don't remember the past life," Aria whispered, "but I know what I feel right now."
Selene's gaze lifted to meet hers. It was searching. It was afraid. But it was also undone.
And in that moment, Aria leaned in again — not for healing this time, but for something else.
Selene met her halfway.
Their second kiss wasn't born of desperation. It was soft. Lingering. The kind of kiss that said I remember you even if you forget me.
Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling. Outside, the night stretched on, unknowable and dark. But in the apartment, beneath the hum of old lights and broken silence, something impossible had bloomed.
A connection neither of them fully understood. A thread that had no right to still exist.
But it did.
And it held.
Aria closed her eyes and let herself fall into the space between breath and heartbeat. The coldness of Selene's touch. The echo of something forgotten. The kiss that left a mark glowing beneath the skin — visible only to her and the woman she loved.
She didn't know what tomorrow would bring.
But she knew she wouldn't face it alone.