Chapter 31: ● T H I R T Y | Fear ●

† Q U I N N †

Fear runs only as deep as the mind allows—it's the silent thief of dreams. Often, we're more haunted by what we imagine than by anything real. We already brace for harm that hasn't come yet, letting fear hold us back. But everything you truly want waits just beyond it. Only when we let go of fear do we begin to truly live.

Rain, thunder, yet warm and quiet. It's the kind of night I've always wanted—just the steady sound of the rain and the deep rumble of thunder in the distance. She lies beside me, her hand resting on my face, and it's the warmest touch I've felt in a long time. Her emerald-green eyes meet mine, striking that comfortable feeling within me, like I belong here. Her smile reaches her eyes, radiating something so pure and genuine, it feels like home. She's like a delicate bubble resting on the ground—beautiful, fragile, and precious. And with that beauty comes a flicker of fear, as if even the smallest touch could shatter her into pieces, could break something so rare and real, could hurt her.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Her voice was warm and gentle, just like her hand resting on my cheek as her thumb brushed my skin so softly.

"I'm okay, baby," I said with a smile, hoping it was convincing. But inside, things were still heavy, tangled in a way I couldn't quite shake.

"No disturbing thoughts in your head anymore?" she asked, her eyes searching mine, looking for answers.

I shook my head. "No more, baby. I feel... comfortable, like I'm wrapped up in cotton wool." It was a lie, though—a soft one I told to keep her from worry. But inside, the heaviness lingered, tucked away, just out of sight.

My mind felt clouded and foggy, like I was lost in a thick haze where thoughts struggled to break through. I felt as if I were being pulled in a million different directions, each one leading to uncertainty, and I didn't know where to turn. I couldn't bring myself to let her know how I was feeling; I didn't want her to worry or to see me angry and witness me losing control. The last thing I wanted was to unintentionally hurt her or make her feel burdened by my struggles. I didn't want to share this weight with her because it felt too heavy to bear. So, I made the choice to keep it all inside, to pretend everything was fine, even when it wasn't.

"Good. Go to sleep now." Her smile was warm and genuine, reaching her eyes and filling the room with comfort. I nodded, grateful for her presence.

As I closed my eyes, her thumb continued to caress my cheek, a gentle reminder of her affection. In that moment, I wished time could stand still, that I could hold onto this moment a little longer. But as her touch lingered, my mind betrayed me, flooding with thoughts that grew heavier with each gentle stroke. My heart felt like it was about to explode, yet I remained calm and unmoved, my eyes shut tight. I didn't want her to see the chaos brewing inside me.

"Aren't you sleeping as well?" I asked, sensing her gaze even with my eyes closed.

"In a bit, baby. Just go to sleep," she replied. I nodded, sinking back into silence.

But sleep eluded me. The disturbing thoughts swirled relentlessly in my head, making it impossible to find solace. She kept stroking her thumb across my face so lightly, and I lost track of how long she had been doing it or how long I had pretended to be asleep. All I knew was that it felt like an eternity. I sensed her shift closer, her breath warming the space between us. Then, I felt it—her warm lips pressed softly against mine in a gentle peck.

But I remained unmoved, fighting hard to stay silent and calm, to maintain the facade of sleep.

"I love you, Quinn." Her whispered words hit me like a wave. I could no longer hold back. I gently pulled her closer, feeling a low groan escape me, as if I might whine, but I suppressed it, hoping she wouldn't notice. I rested my face against her head, feeling her warmth against my shoulder.

Yet beneath that calm exterior, I felt like I was about to explode. Tears hovered just behind my eyelids, threatening to spill over. I shut my eyes forcefully, willing them to stay contained. I held that moment for a while, cradling her against me, waiting until I was certain she was asleep.

The instant I opened my eyes, the tears I had fought to hold back began to flow. The weight of it all was too much; I felt heavy, lost in the depths of my own heartache.

I felt my lips trembling, and I blinked rapidly, trying to keep it together. All I wanted was to feel her—this way: calm, warm, comfortable. I wanted to feel like this every single day, wrapped in the security of her presence.

Chloe... God, damn it! I love you. So freaking much. I want to do right by you, always. I want to love you, to hold you close, to kiss you and make you laugh. I want you to feel safe, to know that I'll protect you. But more than anything, I want to protect you from me.

I want to be the person you can't stay away from, like that blanket you can't resist in the morning. It takes everything to leave its warmth, and at the end of the day, you always come back to wrap yourself in it.

But I know I'm someone you need to stay away from. I'm more like a fire—something you want to get close to, yet I keep burning you, hurting you. I am your destruction, and I hate that.

I never expected you'd love me on the days when I felt completely unlovable. And that's what scared me the most. Because you're so good—all the way down to your bones, you're kind and warm and true. And what if... what if I ruin that? What if my bruised heart is like a sickness, and in time, it seeps into yours and takes something away from you? So, if I pull away, please know it has nothing to do with you, with your beautiful heart. It's only because of the brokenness in mine.

Fear was starting to consume me—the fear of becoming like him. I am, after all, my father's daughter. Just that thought alone sent shivers down my spine. The idea of hurting her the way he hurt my Mama, is enough to make me feel like I'm unraveling—it terrifies me. The thought of losing control, of breaking apart while she try to piece me back together and bear it all—I couldn't bear the thought of that. I could never hurt her again, not even by accident. I don't want her to ever feel that pain—not because of me.

I love you, baby. I always do. You stepped into my chaotic, messy life without hesitation, without fear. You stayed, even when most would've run. I love you, and I want you to be safe, even if that means being safe from me. God, this is torture! I hope you know how much I want to be better, not just for me, but for you—for us. I want you to feel secure, wrapped up in my arms, never needing to doubt or fear. I want our love to be free of any shadows of inflicting pain, Chloe. I need that for us.

† C H L O E †

The only real thing to fear is fear itself. Don't let the worry of what could go wrong keep you from making anything happen at all. Life isn't meant to be feared; it's meant to be understood. The more we understand, the less there is to fear. And sometimes, it's not the obvious monsters we should be wary of, but the quiet, hidden ones we overlook.

Fear can cut deeper than any sword, and if we let it, it can take us down a dark road. It leads to anger, which can turn to hate, and ultimately, to suffering. But we don't have to be afraid. Our fate, our path, isn't something that can be stolen from us; it's something we're given, a gift to hold onto and live out. So, instead of fearing the unknown, we should step forward with courage and trust that we'll find our way.

Sunlight filtered softly through the blinds, casting warm stripes across the bed and nudging me from sleep. I reached over, my hand finding Quinn's side of the bed, still warm but already empty. I blinked my eyes open, realizing she'd gotten up before me. It was a lazy weekend morning, the kind that made staying wrapped in blankets sound perfect. But eventually, I knew I'd have to get moving.

With a stretch and a yawn, I finally slipped out of bed, making my way to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. As I opened the bedroom door, Rosie, our sweet tabby, was there to greet me.

"Hey, sweetie! Are you hungry?" I murmured, bending down to pet her as she wound herself around my legs, her soft fur warm from the morning sun.

I padded downstairs, noting the quietness in the apartment—no sign of Quinn. Maybe she had an early errand. I headed to the kitchen, reached under the cabinet for Rosie's food, and filled her bowl. She purred contentedly as she began to eat. It was still early, so I decided to flop onto the couch, grabbing my phone as I did.

Quinn had left me a simple message that brought a smile to my face:

My baby <3: I love you...

I typed a quick reply, teasing a little.

"Leaving with just a text before I wake up, huh? Can you grab us some coffee when you get back, please?"

But the message stayed unread. Rosie finished her breakfast and padded over to curl up next to me, her soft purr adding to the cozy quiet of the morning. I leaned back, stroking her fur as I waited for Quinn. Thirty minutes passed, and still no word. Frowning, I tried calling her. The line was unreachable.

Another hour passed, but there was still no word from Quinn, and her phone remained unreachable. A knot of unease settled in my stomach. I grabbed my keys, my heart pounding with worry, and drove over to the campus dormitory. When I arrived and knocked on the door, Elise opened it for me, her expression puzzled.

"Hey, Elise. Is Quinn here?" I asked, scanning her face for any sign of where Quinn might be. The confusion in Elise's eyes made my heart race even faster.

"I think she was here earlier, but I didn't see her," Elise said, her voice laced with uncertainty. My confusion deepened.

"What do you mean?" I pressed, hoping for more clarity.

"Well, when I woke up and opened my door, I found a sticky note on it." Elise disappeared into her room and returned, holding a small note.

Thank you, El.

I took the note from her hand, my fingers trembling slightly. Though it was just a simple sticky note, it felt heavier than anything I had ever held. The handwriting was unmistakably Quinn's—neat, slanted letters I'd memorized from countless shared notes and little reminders around our apartment.

"Chloe, are you okay? Is everything alright?" Elise asked, her voice soft but full of concern. I nodded, but my heart raced as I hurried to Quinn's room, hoping for answers.

Just as I expected, when I opened the door, Quinn was not there. The room looked the same, but something felt off. Her bed was still neatly made, untouched, as if she hadn't been there for a while. A chill crept over me as my eyes wandered around. I didn't know why, but I felt compelled to look in her closet. I opened the door slowly, and my heart dropped at the sight—nothing. The closet was completely empty, as if it had been swept clean. Panic surged within me, my hands shaking. Where did she go? Why was her phone unreachable?

The silence in Quinn's room was suffocating, pressing down on me as I stood frozen in front of her empty closet. My mind struggled to piece together what I was seeing—the bare hangers swaying slightly as if mocking me, the emptiness a stark contrast to the colorful chaos that usually filled the space. The knot in my chest tightened, squeezing until it hurt.

I took a shaky breath, my eyes darting around the room as if hoping for a clue, a sign that would tell me this was some kind of misunderstanding. But there was nothing—no half-read books on her nightstand, no stray sweatshirt draped over her chair, no sneakers kicked off by her bed. It was like she had vanished without a trace, leaving only questions behind.

"Chloe?" Elise's voice came from behind me, hesitant and unsure. I turned to see her standing in the doorway, worry etched deep into her expression. "Did you find anything?"

I swallowed hard, the taste of fear sharp on my tongue. "No... I mean, yes. But it doesn't make sense." I gestured weakly at the closet, my hand trembling. "All her stuff... it's gone, Elise."

Elise's eyes widened, and for a moment, we just stood there, the realization sinking in like a stone. The room felt colder, emptier, as if Quinn had taken the warmth with her when she left.

My phone felt heavy in my pocket, and I pulled it out, dialing her number again even though I knew it was useless. The number unreachable message on the other end made my pulse pound louder in my ears. Where did she go? And why hadn't she told me?

I clenched my jaw, fighting the rising panic. Whatever had driven Quinn to leave like this, I needed to find her. I needed answers. And more than anything, I needed her back.

Fear gripped me tightly as I drove, each passing moment intensifying my panic. My heart raced, pounding against my ribs like a frantic drum, and I could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill over. Just yesterday, everything was fine. Quinn had said she was okay, she assured me that nothing was bothering her. So why the hell was she gone now?

I pressed my phone to my ear again, listening to the frustratingly familiar ring that never led to her voice. Please pick up, Quinn. My grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles white as I searched the streets around me, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I drove past the café we loved, the park where we'd shared so many happy moments, but there was nothing—no sign of her anywhere.

Tears began to flow, blurring my vision as I navigated the roads. Where should I look? The questions swirled in my mind like a storm, each one heavier than the last. I felt utterly lost, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. I needed to find her, to understand why she had vanished without a trace, but every second that passed only deepened my dread.

I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself, but it was no use. The fear was overwhelming, and the thought of losing her clawed at my insides. Please, Quinn... where are you?

Author's Note:

***I'll see you after the weekend. Happy Halloween everyone!***