And if life is repeated a thousand times still you, you, and again, you.
-Forough Farrokhzad.
|N I C O L A S|
I never thought it would come to this. My brother, Lorenzo, standing in my sight, his gun pointed at the woman I love, Zyra. Zyra pressed the nuzzle of her gun deeper in my temple, seething with rage as if she fails to compose it, control it. The tension in the room is suffocating as the seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Zyra's empty and distant eyes did not seem to be able to differentiate between a friend and a foe. She is trapped in a mental prison of her own making, a hell created in that head of hers by the sadistic Cillian. I could not bear to see her like this, lost, broken and hurt.
"Little volcano, please," I begged,my voice giving away the desper
