Gray Hearts by Raspberry | Content Warnings
“How dare you,” Winter spits, dropping my arm and stepping between me and the door.
“You promised I could talk to her! She was waking up!”
I jump to my feet, but I know it’s useless to try to overpower Winter to get back inside.
“She may have been swayed by your lies, but I won’t let her be deceived like that,” Winter shoots back, glaring into my eyes. “I won’t let her get hurt.”
I feel goosebumps prickle up and down my arms, but I hold her gaze. Her eyes are dark and fierce and…
Afraid.
There’s a look of fear behind her anger. It’s too raw, too vulnerable for this to be about possession. I remember the look of hurt on Prin’s face when she knew I was leaving. How she was desperate to hold on, not for my own good, but for hers. And the look on Yeo-reum’s face when I first mentioned leaving. That surprise of someone who had different plans than hers.
This isn’t either of those looks. It’s frightened, as if she knows something bad is coming. And I realize maybe, for her, it did.
“What happened to you?” I whisper.
She jerks her gaze from me quickly, like she was hit with an electric bolt. Her chest expands as she takes a deep breath.
“You need to leave. Now.”
“What happened to you?” I repeat, keeping my voice soft. “Who… who deceived and hurt you?”
Her face twitches, her steely mask slipping with a quivering lip, and she shakes her head.
“You’ve overstayed your welcome. We have nothing further to discuss.” Even her tone has a trace of a quiver.
“Someone hurt you?” I should close my mouth before I get turned to ice or something, but I press on. “Is that why you’re doing this?”
“Silence.”
“Do you think something bad will happen to Quinn? Because, yeah, life sucks sometimes, but you can’t just lock her away to protect her. Did you see her in there? She’s barely even alive.”
“That’s better than the alternative!” Winter snaps. “Better than what—” She clamps a hand over her lips.
“Better than what you went through?” I finish.
Her body slumps against the door and her robe cascades like a waterfall as she slinks to the floor. I take a seat across from her.
“I know I don’t know you,” I say softly. “And I know you don’t trust me.” I don’t add that I don’t trust her either. “But talking about it out loud can help sometimes.” I give a wry smile. “I just recently learned that.”
If she knows I’m talking about Autumn, she doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches between us so long, I wonder if she’s just decided to ignore me until I get up and leave.
“I’ve never talked to anyone,” she murmurs. “I’ve never said this out loud.”
I can see the thoughts flicked across her face, torn between wanting to open up and refusing to let out whatever it is that’s been trapped unsaid.
“I’m here… to listen,” I offer. “Only if you want to share.”
She sighs, and her hair drapes over her face in a curtain, muffling her voice.
“It was so long ago,” she whispers. “But it still hurts like a fresh wound. I… I was young. And foolish. Foolish to believe the words of someone who never cared for me the way I cared for her.”
My mind flicks back to the shopkeeper. The way she looked at the mirror, looked for someone in the mirror.
She always finds me again. I’m the one who caused her to give up on this world, and she’ll never let me forget her.
“I was ready to give up everything for her,” Winter continues. “I thought we would be together forever. But when I gave her my heart, she ran away.”
Her voice trails off, and I wonder if that’s all I’m going to know of the story. I glance away from her face. Her arm slowly extends into the air, like it’s reaching for something.
I brush my hand against hers and let her cold fingers wrap around mine.
I’m standing outside. The full moon is out, its glow illuminating the barren branches on the tree above me. I’m ankle-deep in powdery snow, but I don’t feel cold.
A peal of laughter comes from behind me. I glance around. There’s a pond, its frozen surface reflecting the stars as two skaters glide in circles with held hands.
I recognize Winter first. She’s dressed almost the same, but her face looks younger and more radiant. She’s laughing, looking at the girl next to her with undisguised love.
I’m sure the girl holding her hand is the woman from the shop. Her hair is in a long braid that trails down her back, and a large fluffy fur hat hides her face from my view.
“I need a break!” she calls with another laugh, pulling Winter towards me.
I take a step back, barely noting how I’m not leaving any tracks in the snow. The pair shuffle and waddle up the snowy bank and plop onto the ground, falling into each other.
I feel like I shouldn’t be here, watching as they wrap their arms around each other and stare up at the sky. I wonder if I should try to pinch myself to get out of this vision, or if there’s some doorway I need to go through.
“I wish we could stay like this forever.” Winter’s voice sighs through the silence.
“Well, why can’t we?” the girl next to her asks.
“I have to leave soon,” Winter replies. “My sister, Prin, gets upset if I stay for too long. She moans about the late blooms and frosts that ruin the seeds.”
“There can only be one of you here at a time?”
“I suppose not,” Winter says slowly. “But we couldn’t both use our auras here. That’s how the out-of-season phenomena occur, and it never ends up well. If I stayed… I’d have to dim my aura for her.”
“Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t hurt exactly. But it feels… strange. I guess like, maybe, having to actively hold a part of yourself back.”
“Sounds like me every day,” the girl says with a laugh, but this one has no humor in it. “I can’t wait until I graduate. I can leave this place and never look back.”
“Is it that bad? Being around others?” Winter sounds wistful, and I’m almost kicking myself as I remember how alone she is.
“They don’t understand me,” the girl says. “Everyone says I should find a nice boy and settle down. They don’t get why I’d want to travel the world. Or why I’m not interested in any boys.”
At this, she glances over to Winter, and I can see her flush even in the darkness. She glances down shyly.
“Well, it’s not the world, or this one at least,” she murmurs. “But you could come back with me. To the Realm of the Seasons. I have my own place, and no one there would tease you or mock you.”
There’s a long silence that follows. The puff of air in front of Winter disappears, and I realize she’s holding her breath. And that I am too.
“I… I can’t,” the girl says with a deep sigh. “I mean, wait.” She grabs Winter’s hand as Winter starts to move away. “I love you. I mean it, really. I just… I can’t leave this world only knowing my small corner of it.”
“I understand.” Winter’s voice is barely above a whisper.
“But.” It’s the girl’s turn to take a deep breath. “You could come with me. I mean, we could see my world together. And then yours. If you want.”
“Really?” Winter’s face lights up with a grin so luminous it puts the moon to shame.
“If you want,” the girl says, her hand coming up to hold Winter’s cheek.
“I would go anywhere with you,” Winter replies.
They lean in, brushing their lips together, and I look away quickly, not wanting to intrude on their moment.
A flash of light nearly blinds me, and the two girls spring to their feet.
“I knew it!” a boy whoops, jumping from behind the tree and waving a camera in the air.
“Teddy!” the girl shouts, pushing herself away from Winter and lunging towards him. “Give that to me! It’s not what it looks like!”
The boy jumps away from her, dangling the camera in front of her like a matador’s cape.
“Wait ‘til everyone sees this,” he goads. “You and your little girlfriend.”
He sticks his tongue out and waggles it. Winter takes a step towards them.
“Gina, wait!” Winter grabs the girl’s arm.
“She’s not my girlfriend!” the girl, Gina, yells as Teddy backs up with a satisfied smirk. She shakes off Winter’s hand. “Let go of me.”
“Gina—”
“She kissed me! I’m not like that! I don’t even like girls like that!” Gina continues, her face turning scarlet.
I can tell from Teddy’s leer that he isn’t convinced. The stricken look on Winter’s face tells me she is.
“Gina—” her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Stay away from me!” Gina cries shrilly, taking a step away from Winter.
I can see Gina’s lower lip quiver and her eyes water, even as she tries to glower at Winter.
Winter is silent, her hand still suspended in the air from when Gina pushed it away. I want to push them together. To sit them down and make them talk. To take Teddy’s camera and shove it up his—
“Just… stay away from me,” Gina repeats, stepping further from Winter. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”
She takes off, pushing past Teddy, her long braid trailing in the wind like an unmoored kite.
“Freaks,” Teddy mutters, kicking the snow at Winter and trudging away.
Winter sinks into the snow, her face frozen in shock. She wraps her arms around herself, letting her hair fall over her face as her body begins to shake in sobs.
The scene disappears, and I’m sitting in front of Winter, back in the hallway. I can see the same vulnerability—the same heartbreak—from so long ago still etched on her face.
“Winter…” I begin.
I want to tell her that Gina looked heartbroken too. That she—they—were both young. That it was a time when it might not have been safe for Gina to be out, and that she probably panicked. I think of Quinn, and how many times she smiled through her pain when her parents would tease her about never having a boyfriend. How much worse would it have been when the old antique store owner was our age?
But instead I give her hand a squeeze.
“Thank you for sharing with me,” I say. “I know that couldn’t have been easy to relive.”
“I relive that every day,” she replies, wiping her eyes. “Every time I see that look of despair on someone’s face.” She tosses her hair behind her shoulder and stands.
“You try to spare them the pain you felt,” I guess.
“I try to ease their pain and help them recover from that feeling,” she replies. “Only…”
“It never works?”
She shakes her head slowly.
“I can’t even help myself. Why did I think I could help anyone else?” she asks, but I don’t know who she’s talking to. “Instead I just stand by helplessly while they fade away. While I’m stuck here. Alone.” She gives a wry smile. “Or at least, I will be alone soon. Once you take Quinn away.”
My heart squeezes at my chest. I know that’s what I’m here to do, but hearing her say it like that… this all feels so wrong.
I open my mouth, unsure what to say, but a creak of the door interrupts us. The door behind Winter swings open, and Quinn takes a step out.
JAAM Writing 