CHAPTER 9
1188 Words
The crack in the sky didn’t disappear this time.
It stayed.
Like it had learned patience.
Liora stood still on the balcony of Cael’s apartment, staring at it long after the city lights came on below. The world continued pretending everything was fine—cars moving, voices laughing, life behaving normally.
But she wasn’t fooled anymore.
Nothing stayed normal around her for long.
Behind her, Cael watched quietly from the doorway.
“You’ve been staring at it for twenty minutes,” he said softly.
Liora didn’t look away.
“It feels closer than before,” she replied.
Cael stepped out beside her, following her gaze.
“It is,” he admitted.
That made her finally turn.
“Then why are we still here?” she asked.
Cael didn’t answer immediately.
Because the truth wasn’t simple anymore.
It never had been.
The wind moved gently across the balcony, brushing between them like something uncertain.
Cael finally said, “Because running doesn’t change what we are.”
Liora frowned.
“And what exactly are we?”
That question always came back.
Always deeper each time.
Cael looked at her carefully.
“We are the point where everything resets,” he said.
Her chest tightened.
“I don’t like that answer,” she admitted.
“I know,” he replied.
That softness in his voice made it worse somehow.
Not fear.
But truth.
A sudden flicker passed through the sky crack.
Liora felt it instantly.
A pulse.
Like something inside her responding.
She stepped back slightly, pressing a hand to her chest.
Cael noticed immediately.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said quickly. “It feels like… it’s reacting to me again.”
Cael’s expression changed.
“Not reacting,” he corrected gently.
“Listening.”
That word made her freeze.
Inside the apartment, the lights dimmed slightly.
Not broken.
Just unstable.
Liora walked in slowly, as if the walls might shift if she moved too fast.
“This is getting worse,” she said quietly.
Cael followed her inside.
“It’s stabilizing around you,” he said.
“That doesn’t sound better,” she replied.
“It isn’t,” he admitted.
That honesty should have scared her more.
But instead, it grounded her.
She turned to face him fully now.
“Cael,” she said softly.
He looked at her.
“If I am really the reason all of this happens,” she said, “why do you stay?”
That question hung in the air longer than the silence that followed it.
Cael stepped closer.
“Because you are also the reason it stops,” he said.
Her breath caught.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does to me,” he said gently.
Liora shook her head slightly.
“I feel like I’m two people,” she admitted.
Cael’s eyes softened.
“You are,” he said.
That made her pause.
“What does that mean?”
He hesitated.
Then answered carefully.
“One part of you ends the world,” he said. “The other part remembers how to rebuild it.”
Her voice lowered.
“And which one am I right now?”
Cael looked at her for a long moment.
Then said quietly:
“Both.”
A silence followed.
Not uncomfortable.
Just heavy with understanding.
Liora looked down at her hands.
They looked normal.
But nothing about her felt normal anymore.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she whispered.
Cael stepped closer.
“You haven’t chosen to hurt anyone,” he said.
“But it keeps happening,” she replied.
Cael lifted her chin gently so she would look at him.
“Then we stop waiting for the world to decide what you are,” he said.
Her heart beat faster.
“What do we do instead?” she asked.
Cael’s voice softened.
“We decide together.”
For a moment, the world outside seemed to pause.
The sky crack dimmed slightly.
Like it was listening again.
Liora swallowed.
“You make it sound simple,” she said.
“It’s not,” Cael admitted.
A faint, almost sad smile appeared on her lips.
“Nothing about us is simple,” she said.
That made him smile too.
For the first time in a while.
He reached for her hand slowly.
Not urgent.
Not desperate.
Just sure.
Liora didn’t pull away.
She never did anymore.
“You’re scared,” he said gently.
“I am,” she admitted.
“Of what?” he asked.
She hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
“Of loving you too much,” she said.
That made Cael go still.
Because that was the truth neither of them had said out loud.
Not like that.
He stepped closer again.
Now there was barely space between them.
“Liora,” he said softly.
“Yes?”
“If loving me is what breaks the world,” he said, “then it’s already too late.”
Her breath shook slightly.
“That sounds like giving up,” she whispered.
Cael shook his head.
“No,” he said. “It sounds like choosing anyway.”
The sky crack pulsed again.
Stronger this time.
The apartment lights flickered.
Liora looked toward the window.
“It’s happening again,” she said.
Cael followed her gaze.
“Yes,” he said.
But this time, neither of them moved away from each other.
Liora turned back to him slowly.
“What happens if I stop fighting it?” she asked quietly.
Cael didn’t answer immediately.
Then said:
“Then you might remember everything.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
“And if I do?” she asked.
Cael stepped closer.
“Then you won’t be afraid of yourself anymore.”
That silence after his words felt different.
Less like fear.
More like possibility.
Liora’s voice softened.
“Cael…”
He looked at her.
“If I remember everything,” she said slowly, “will I still choose you?”
Cael didn’t hesitate.
“You already do,” he said.
That made her heart tighten.
“Even if I destroy everything?” she asked.
Cael lifted her hand gently.
“Then I’ll still be here,” he said.
A long silence followed.
The sky crack pulsed again outside.
But inside the apartment, something else was building.
Something quieter.
Stronger.
Liora stepped closer.
Until there was no space left between them.
“Cael,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“If this is the moment everything changes,” she said softly, “then don’t let me go.”
Something shifted in his expression.
Not fear.
Not hesitation.
Just certainty.
“I won’t,” he said.
And this time—
when he kissed her—
it wasn’t soft like before.
It wasn’t careful.
It was truth.
The kind that doesn’t ask permission.
The kind that accepts consequences.
The sky crack outside pulsed violently.
The world trembled slightly.
But inside that moment—
Liora didn’t feel like a danger.
Or a mistake.
Or a trigger.
She felt like someone being chosen.
Completely.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until even the world learned her name.
- Writer
