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Dropping my hands I exhaled and began to stand. I needed a cigarette. Scratch that, I needed a joint, a big fatty. She caught my fingers as I rose to my feet, my fingers twining around hers. Holding her hand, it felt like nothing and everything at the same time. Grasping her fingers with a bit too much strength, I felt my nails dig into her palm. I heard her take in a quick breath, pulling her up, it was hard not to notice how small she could appear. “I love you…” It was all I could say, the words seeming oh so insufficient. I had to swallow the fierceness that was threatening to thread and knit its way into my pretty words. I didn’t want her to see that, but she knew. Beyond love, there is that need that arises so often its thought myth. But I felt it with her, undeniably. We felt it, something instinctual that drew us together. “I love you too.” Her words were wet with unshed tears, torn with un-mastered thoughts. It wasn’t easy to be the one inbetween, especially when both of. I reach up to hold him but he is already holding me, pulling me up from the dirty, bloody floor, holding me so tightly I feel safe for a second. I try to hush him, but can’t speak because I am crying. He adjusts his grasp and heaves me up. My leg screams bright colors into the night but I clench my jaw shut. Andy is puzzled but realizes I am hurt, and helps me to favor the wound. We stumble forwards into the blackness, sometimes tripping over bodies, sometimes half-running. I think of Sophie and try to live up to her. I stiffen myself like metal against the pain. Andy is ahead and getting the door. He had killed the guards and is wearing their uniform. I stop and watch him for the first time ever in a lantern’s wavering light. A thick turban casts a deep shadow over his soft eyes, but I know it is my love. He has risked and probably ruined his life by coming so far into this hell. He pulls me out into a corridor I can’t remember and takes me to places I never thought existed. I.
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