The way She Break Me Slowly
1069 Words
Chapter six: The Way She Breaks Me Slowly
The first thing I noticed…
was the silence.
Not the normal kind.
Not the quiet that settles when the world sleeps.
This silence watched me.
It pressed against my ears, thick and suffocating, like the air itself was waiting for something to happen… or someone to move first.
I didn’t breathe.
I couldn’t.
Because I already knew—
She was here.
“Still pretending you’re alone?”
Nyra’s voice slid through the darkness like a blade wrapped in velvet.
Soft.
Cold.
Too close.
My breath hitched violently, chest tightening as if invisible fingers had curled around my lungs. I turned sharply, heart slamming against my ribs so hard it hurt.
“N–Nyra…”
Her name broke in my mouth.
That was my first mistake.
A quiet laugh followed. Not loud—never loud. Nyra didn’t need volume to be heard. Her presence filled everything, bending the space around her until there was no room left for anything else.
“You say my name,” she murmured, stepping forward, “like it still belongs to you.”
The shadows shifted.
And then I saw her.
Leaning just outside the reach of light, like she refused to fully exist in my world. Her eyes caught what little glow there was—reflecting it, twisting it—turning something soft into something wrong.
My hands started shaking again.
Not small tremors.
Violent.
Uncontrollable.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice barely holding together. “What do you want from me?”
Another step.
Closer.
Too close.
“What I’ve always wanted,” she said.
Her head tilted slightly—that familiar, unsettling angle—as if she was studying something fragile… something she could break with just a touch.
“You.”
The word landed like a weight in my chest.
“No,” I whispered, backing away. “No, that’s not—this isn’t—”
“You don’t get to decide what this is.”
Her tone didn’t rise.
It didn’t need to.
The air shifted with it, colder now, sharper. My back hit the wall before I realized I’d been moving. There was nowhere else to go.
There never was.
Nyra stopped right in front of me.
Close enough that I could feel her breath.
Close enough that I should have been able to push her away.
But my body refused to listen.
“Look at you,” she said softly, almost gently.
Her fingers lifted.
I flinched before she even touched me.
That made her smile.
Not wide.
Not kind.
But satisfied.
“Still shaking,” she whispered.
Her fingertips brushed my wrist.
And everything inside me snapped.
A sharp inhale tore through my throat as heat spread under my skin—burning, crawling, like something alive was moving through my veins. My knees nearly gave out, but she caught me before I could fall.
Of course she did.
She always did.
“You feel that?” she asked, her voice right against my ear now.
I couldn’t answer.
My breath came in broken pieces, my chest rising too fast, too shallow. My thoughts were slipping—scattering—like I couldn’t hold onto anything solid anymore.
“That’s me,” she said.
Her grip tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me she could.
“I don’t have to chase you anymore.”
My heart stuttered.
“What…?” I managed.
Her lips brushed just barely against my cheek.
Not a kiss.
Worse.
A promise.
“I’m already inside.”
The words hit harder than anything else.
Inside.
No.
No, that wasn’t—
“That’s not possible,” I said quickly, too quickly. “You’re not—you can’t—this is just—”
“A nightmare?” she finished for me.
Silence.
Then—
A soft, almost pitying sigh.
“If it were just a nightmare,” Nyra said, pulling back just enough to look at me, “you would’ve woken up by now.”
My stomach dropped.
Because she was right.
Every time before—every time she had gotten close, too close—I had escaped.
Woken up.
Run.
Something.
But this time…
I was still here.
Still trapped.
Still with her.
“Why now?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Why is this happening now?”
Nyra watched me for a long moment.
Really watched me.
Like she was peeling me apart layer by layer, seeing everything I had tried so hard to hide—even from myself.
And then she smiled.
That smile.
The one that ruined everything.
“Because,” she said slowly, “this is the first time you stopped fighting me.”
My breath caught.
“No—”
“You did.”
Her voice hardened just slightly, enough to cut.
“You let me in.”
I shook my head, panic rising fast now, clawing its way up my throat. “I didn’t—I would never—”
“You already did.”
Her hand moved again—this time pressing flat against my chest.
Right over my heart.
And I felt it.
Not just my heartbeat.
Something else.
Something wrong.
A second rhythm.
Slower.
Deliberate.
Matching her.
My eyes widened.
“No… no, no, no—”
“Yes.”
Nyra leaned in again, her forehead nearly touching mine.
“Listen to it,” she whispered.
I didn’t want to.
I couldn’t stop.
Thump.
…Thump.
…Thump.
Not mine.
Not just mine.
Tears blurred my vision as the realization sank in, heavy and suffocating.
“You don’t belong to yourself anymore,” she said softly.
My chest tightened, breath breaking completely now as fear and something worse tangled together inside me.
“Nyra…”
Her name came out like a plea this time.
Like surrender.
And that—
That was her favorite sound.
She smiled again, slower now, deeper.
“Say it again,” she murmured.
My body trembled.
My mind screamed.
But my voice—
My voice betrayed me.
“…Nyra.”
Her eyes darkened, something possessive flickering through them.
“Good.”
Her fingers curled slightly against my chest, right over that second heartbeat.
“Now,” she said softly, “let’s see how much of you is still yours.”
The silence came back.
But this time—
It wasn’t empty.
It was hers.
- Writer
