When There Is Nothing Left But Love

He picked up the bottle of sulfuric acid, slowly swivelling his head to face me. An eyebrow raised, he asked in an annoyed tone, “Want me to do it for you?”

My face scrunched up out of fear, instinctively taking a step back and increasing the distance between us. “Jared, listen. There’s still a way out for you if you stop now.”

His lips pulled back in an ugly sneer. “Scared, Scarlett?”

No sh*t, Sherlock. Anyone would be.

He took slow, lazy steps towards me, and I unconsciously kept backing away from him. “Jared, you can’t bring back people from the dead, but you can still treasure the living while they’re still alive,” I tried to convince him.

He merely jeered at me, refusing to listen to anything I said as he twisted open the bottle cap.

Waving the bottle in the air menacingly, he went on to say, “You look so much like Naomi right now. She was this scared and vulnerable when she died, too. I remember thinking: she must have wanted to continue living, but she couldn’t find a good reason to do so anymore. Why couldn’t I have been her reason? Why couldn’t she have continued living for me?”

I felt my back hit a wall. I’m cornered.

Delighted by my new predicament, a wide grin spread across his face as he splashed the contents of the bottle in my direction.

I reflexively reached up and tried to cover my face with my hands, but only managed to block some of the liquid.

I heard the blood-curdling sound of something dissolving, as well as caught a

man’s voice hissed into my ear in pain as a group of people suddenly

snapped awake from my daze, I realized that it was Ashton. He’d

eye, I could somewhat see that all the blood was drained from Jared’s face as he stared at Ashton, dumbfounded while

my mouth to

front of me. There was a constant ringing in my brain as I stood there blankly, watching someone else

my brain finally registered that my face hurt slightly, and I realized that the sulfuric acid must have burnt some parts

isn’t damaged, so you don’t have to worry about blindness,”

I now knew that my

at all in the beginning? Maybe it all happened too fast that

over my hand and not finding any prominent veins, she glanced up at me. “Please hold your

was told. She carefully inspected the back of my hand and then picked up the needle, setting it upon a certain

needle into my flesh. My pain tolerance had always been

done,” the nurse helpfully supplied

spot on the back of my left hand where the IV needle had pierced hurt slightly, and

the wrong vein? It looks like the wound

to the drip bag was

a double take. When she tried to pull out the IV needle,