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The Love That Still Hurts
Lucan watched the smoke from his hookah glide slowly upwards, in front of his eyes. His eyes squinted, his hand coming over to lightly massage his chest. He could not sleep. He rarely did on nights like these. Nothing mattered. Nothing could move him. Not even the contents of the letter he had read. Not the kisses he knew they had exchanged. Nothing at all. He slowly closed his eyes, and like an invitation that the memories gladly accepted, they came flashing back, the screams, the blood, the yells. He felt like he was drowning again, the water filling his throat, scouring it, his body cold and helpless as he watched his own sister being taken over and over again by those princes. She had been buried in an open grave, and once he was resuscitated himself, he went t9 her grave himself. H
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