I got a really good grade on my second final, so as promised, here's another surprise chapter!! If my next two final exams go well, you can expect more surprise chapters heheh!

PS: Don't you just love unnecessarily long titles? 😌

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Zelda's POV

I drift in and out of sleep, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. I feel my body tilting forward into fatigue, and my eyelids betray me by staying shut when I blink, but before I tip over, a jolt jerks me awake, my phone still cradled in my hand.

Every couple of hours, I ask Pik the same question. Each time, he replies with the same answer.

1 AM: "Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

3:30 AM: "Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

5 AM, "Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

The night feels endless, even for Malice, who wakes up periodically from nightmares. Sometimes she talks in her sleep, calling out the words "No" and "Go away" or "Don't."

She startles awake, her body wracked with shivers and pain. I offer her medications and gentle reassurance, urging her to rest.

✤ ✤ ✤

The morning finally arrives when the birds begin to chirp outside the window. I stretch my stiff muscles and rub the sleep from my eyes.

"Pik?" I whisper into the phone.

It takes a few seconds, but he quietly murmurs back, "Still here."

"Thank you for staying with me all night," I say, feeling beyond grateful. "Get some rest now."

"You sure? I can stay on the line if you need me," he says, his voice more raspy than usual.

I want him to stay on the line. I want him here with me in person, if I'm being fully honest. But I could never ask that of him. I already feel guilty for calling him in the first place.

I thank Pik again and make him promise to get some rest after he makes me promise to call him if I need to.

Just as I press 'End Call', Malice grunts, "More pills."

"It hasn't been 6 hours since your last dose," I tell her.

"Don't be such a cunt," she whales, then her body folds violently and she empties her stomach into the bin next to the bed.

"Karma," is all I say, finding no pleasure in my remark. I get up and hand her some water. She gulps down half of the bottle and hands it back to me without even looking at me. "You know, it wouldn't hurt to say thanks sometimes."

"Everything hurts," she says.

"Even saying thank you?"

"Especially saying thank you."

I roll my eyes when I catch a little smirk on her face. It's a hint of her old self returning, which I never thought would comfort me one day.

I plunge down next to her on the bed. I can't believe how soft it is! My pelvic is aching from sitting on the floor all night. I shut my eyes for a moment and spread my limbs.... My hands flat on the sheets.... They're so soft and cool..... Fluffy..... They smell like linen. Like a cloud.... And.....

I open my eyes in shock. "Did I fall asleep?!"

Malice is facing me, unbothered and calm. "Maybe for like 20 minutes."

My first thought is, yay Malice gets points for not stabbing me in my sleep! My second thought is Link... Where is he?

I check my phone for any messages from him or other people who might be in touch with him.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

I get up to check his phone next but there is no text addressed to me. Most of his notifications come from the fraternity group chat that he is still a member of. I check my bedroom with the hope that he came home last night but he didn't.

I'm praying for his well-being, wherever he may be. I was too harsh with him yesterday. I should have never told him to leave, I should have taken care of his wounds... But he said some hurtful things and he needed to calm down somewhere else before saying something he can't take back. 

I use the restroom for the first time in hours and cleanse my face with cold water. 

I feel dead, like a walking corpse. My eyes are burning, my neck is stiff, my skin feels unnaturally dry. If I was also craving brains, I'd assume Malice infected me with zombieism. Our antidote: sleep.

I return to the guest bedroom and find that Malice has vanished.

For a second I question whether I dreamed the whole thing and she was never here in the first place. But the stains on the carpet and the medications on the nightstand are a harsh reminder that all of this did not happen in my imagination.

I scan the whole room even behind the bed thinking that she must have tried to get up and collapsed again. But no, she's no longer in the bedroom. When the bathroom is also deserted, I switch over to panic mode.

Malice is gone, on the loose, and I have to find her before catastrophe strikes!

I rush down the hall and nearly trip down the stairs in an attempt to skip five steps at a time. My guess is that Malice is trying to get to my car, to her drugs. And my guess is spot on. Fortunately, she didn't make it that far. She didn't even make it to the front door. I find her sitting on the floor in the hallway between the living room and the foyer.

I catch up with her, my steps echoing in the spacious corridor. "Malice? What are you doing out here?"

She's breathing heavily, her head dangling between her shoulders. "I told you... I'm dying. Help me to your car, or get me my stuff... I really need it."

Desperation is heavy in her voice. I gently place a hand on her arm, trying to steady her. "Malice, you have to try to fight the urge."

"Just a gram," she begs and I don't know what that entails but I shake my head again.

"You really want to go back to that life?"

"I can't fight this," she says. "I'm in so much pain, Zelda. Your weak ass medicine can't fix that!"

"Have you ever tried to detox before?"

"I've tried a couple of times but it never works."

"Ever tried with someone by your side to help you through it?"

The question lingers in the air, and I wouldn't be surprised if she's never experienced such a form of help. Ganon and Karusa likely weren't the best influences.

"You don't have to do this alone this time. I can help you through it. We'll find a way to manage the pain, but you have to be willing to fight. Can you do that?"

"Why? What's the point?"

"Is that really a question you don't already know the answer to?" I try to see things from her perspective. The concept of relying on substances is foreign to me, but I understand the weight of despair. "Consider this, Malice: if you could snap your fingers and make it all go away, all the drug-related cravings and dependence, would you?"

Her eyes leave my gaze to look down at her hands. They are shaking. The silence between us is heavy, until a few moments later, a weak little snap finally echoes through the big space.

She snaps again. And again. Her eyes search for a change that doesn't come. "Too bad a snap can't fix this," she mutters. The desire for healing battles with her disbelief in the possibility.

"It can't, you're right. But now that we know that drugs are not something you desire, and that you would like to be clean, we can start working toward that goal. You are stronger than you think, Malice. You've survived so much already. One snap won't work miracles, but this is a battle worth fighting. And I can promise you that I'll be right there beside you every step of the way. If you'll let me."

"Promises don't mean shit."

"Maybe mine don't. But yours do. Whether you like it or not, promises mean a great deal when you make them to yourself. You have to believe in yourself and in the possibility of a better life. Once you see that vision, you can make a promise to yourself, the promise to work toward that vision. All that's left after that is staying loyal to yourself, don't ever break that promise."

"Whether I believe in recovery or not won't change anything... Either way, my body parts will end up somewhere at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean when Ganondorf finds me... Might as well go out feeling high as the clouds..."

"You're not going to die. Not for a long time, okay? You've got at least 60 more years ahead of you, you hear me?"

Her tired eyes look up at me. "Make it 80 and we have a deal."

"80 it is!" I say, a little more hopeful. "So from now on, every time you feel the craving, just imagine celebrating your 100th birthday with 100 candles and 100 balloons."

"And 100 strippers," she adds, a glimmer of humor in her eyes.

I chuckle, "100 strippers, sure. Anything else for the birthday granny?"

"100 grandkids," she says, surprising us both. I never saw her as a mother or grandmother, but I won't ask questions. If that's what will keep her clean, I'm all for it.

"100 grandkids. Got it. Let's stay alive so you can meet each and every one of them, okay?"

Malice's head drops down again. "It's hard..."

"No shit, Malice," I purposefully swear to get her attention. "Life is ridiculously hard. But you don't have to face it all alone."

She doesn't respond immediately, but the vulnerability in her eyes tells me that my words are beginning to reach her. She gives me a subtle nod, so tiny, she probably didn't intend for me to see it.

"Let's get you back to bed then, okay?"

"Alright..."

We get up cautiously, and as I help her stand, I feel the strain in my own muscles from a sleepless night.

"Can I ask you something?" she says, walking behind me.

"Sure, if it'll get you up the stairs."

"Are you actually scared of Link?" Her question takes me by surprise, but I respond without hesitation.

"No."

"He thinks you are."

"He knows better than to think that."

"You sure?"

I stop at the bottom of the stairs, giving her a warning glare to drop the topic, a glare she ignores.

"'Cause he sure as hell didn't leave because you asked him so kindly. He left 'cause you looked fucking terrified."

"I did?"

Malice nods. "Link was acting crazy though, so you had every right to kick him out."

"I don't know... I don't think sending him away was the right thing to do."

"He blamed you for getting assaulted. That's fucked up."

"He wasn't blaming me," I defend Link, unsure if it's true.

"Can I ask you another question?"

I sigh, leaning against the railing of the stairs. "What?"

"Do you like Karusa?"

The thought of liking him, in any way, sends shivers down my spine. "I detest him," I quickly respond. "Why would you even ask that?"

"Because Karusa and Link aren't that different."

I narrow my eyes at her, growing defensive. "Malice, cut it out."

"What makes Link so much better than Karusa? Huh?"

I laugh annoyed and continue up the stairs. "Karusa is a bad person," I say.

"Why? Just because you and him don't get along? What makes him a through and through bad person?"

"He hurts people."

"He hurt you. Who else, hm?" She asks.

"Link. Karusa hurt Link.

"And Link hurt Karusa. You're proving my point," she says and I stay quiet. "So, if Link hurts people it doesn't make him a bad person?"

"Do you even understand the concept of good and bad?"

"Do you? I can tell you right now that Link doesn't side with the good."

"Oh but Karusa does?" I huff sarcastically.

"Karusa takes care of me like a big brother! He didn't deserve to get beat up like that!"

"I agree with you." I've reached the top of the stairs and turn to face her. "He deserved worse."

"Zelda, open your goddamn eyes," Malice glares at me. "Link threw the first punch! He's got anger issues and when something doesn't go his way, he turns to violence! How much more can he take before he turns to you for violence. Sooner or later, you'll turn into his punishing bag."

"Do you really want to play the whose-boyfriend-is-more-abusive game?" I ask. "Ganon and Karusa hospitalized Link! Your boyfriend, or ex boyfriend or fling or prison hubby or whatever you call him these days, brings weapons to campus and hits girls. And then there's Karusa who claims he doesn't hit girls but proudly admits he molests them. I don't know why you like him so much, or why you want people like that as your friends. There's no way you feel safe around them."

"Do you feel safe around Link?"

"Link isn't perfect, I know that. But–"

"But you want him to be," she cuts in, unwilling to hear me out because she knows I'm right. "You want a perfect relationship, like out of a romance novel. But you're too stubborn to accept that it will never be as perfect as you want it to be.This is not a rom-com! You'll never have the kind of love story you see on TV, but you keep treating it as such. And then you'll blame Link for your disappointments even though it's not his fault that you set your expectations too damn high."

I refuse to let her words touch me. Link and I are far from perfect and I always knew that. I don't need him to be Prince Charming, but I don't want him to be a knight in silver armor either. I never wanted the chaos, the danger. The drama. I just wanted to live a simple, happy life. I wanted to succeed in college. And then I met Link, and with him came Malice.

The words Link hurled at me yesterday still echo through my head. I wish he was wrong, I wish my heart wasn't so big. I wish I could have just turned my back on Malice in that alley. But something inside of me wants to help her and see her succeed the way I wished for myself.

"I'm hungry," Malice grumbles, pulling her sleeves over her hands. She settles on the stairs. "And s–so fucking cold."

"You have a fever," I say annoyed. "Maybe if you had stayed in bed..." I don't finish the sentence. She knows full well she should have stayed in bed. "Get up," I tell her, pulling on her arm. "Go back to the room and lie down. I'll get some breakfast for you."