“...Don’t leave me...”

A soft breeze and the gentle rocking of a ceiling fan welcomed her. She blinked, her eyes feeling heavy, feeling...

Wet.

Her left shoulder was lifted, reaching towards that ceiling fan, and a sensation she hadn’t felt for a long time overwhelmed her. Her left side felt so heavy and empty, a sharp pain shooting up her shoulder, running through her harried nerves. She ground her teeth, closing her eyes as the fear, the pain, the loss erupted into a much more comforting emotion.

Rage.

“FUCK!“ Her right fist lifted and slammed down onto the nightstand. The granite top shattering and the wooden legs buckling underneath the impact. She hissed in fury of her own weakness, shuddering breaths accompanying her pounding heart. Can she have one peaceful night? One night where she is not tingling with blood lust or haunted by unwanted memories. She rested her left shoulder back against the softness of the pillow, sinking against it, drowning into the sheets.

She pulled her hand back to gaze at it, seeing trembling fingers, her rage bubbling down. Nothing, she felt nothing. She willed her heart to slow down, the adrenaline receding.

Ori was safe.

She was in no danger here.

Not anymore.

‘I’ll come back...’

“Liar.” Sizzling hatred underlined that word, her hand resting over her tired eyes, eyes that threatened to release unwanted burning drops. “You fucking liar...” Another shuddering breath, letting the anger take away that weakness, the fire consuming it, leaving nothing but ash.

She released a deep, calm sigh, her eyes fluttering a bit before she yawned, loudly. Oh, this sucked. Once more, it felt too early to be awake. She growled, trying to brush off those worthless ashes, sitting up and pressing the button above that trashed nightstand. Slowly the blinds opened, revealing the barely rising sun, casting pinks and yellows over the pale blue sky. She ground her teeth again, glaring at the view of the skyline, before leaning down to pick up her phone; thankfully not a victim of the nightstands collision with her fist. She stared, giving a groan.

5:30 am.

“It’s too fucking early for this shit!” God, she was pissed at Edward for his stupid proposal, at the two pests causing her family stress. At her mind, for conjuring up the WORST POSSIBLE memory as she slept. She stood up, moving over to her dresser to put on some leggings and a tank top, once in a while releasing a hungry growl like a large cat, waiting to pounce on its latest meal, “I need to beat the shit out of something.”