Before I can enter the dreamland, and my hand can even knock on its door, a loud scream yanks me from trying to enter this land of rest, and I quickly open my eyes.

"Mom! Mom!" I look at Stella who is shaking and calling her mom, breathing heavily and sobbing.

Within the second I get up, and rush to her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Mom! Please, don't leave me!" The tears fall down her cheeks so quickly that I struggle to wipe them all off.

"Shhh, Stella! Stella!" She keeps panting, looking around her in panic. "Stella, look at me!" I try to gain her attention, and when she focuses her watery eyes on me, her sad face breaks my heart.

"She left." She wraps her arms around my neck, and buries her head in the crook of it, so fast that I need a second to realize that it was her who hugged me. It was not me who hugged her first.

"But, I am here", I whisper, in her hair, fondling it, still in shock of her action.

But, it must have happened in panic, and pain, so that is why she is hugging me. There cannot be any other reason, unfortunately. And, selfishly I am grateful that she is doing this, that she is grabbing my shoulders, trying to pull me closer to her, still sobbing. And I know that it is greedy that I like it because it took her to suffer through a terrible nightmare so she can be here, in my arms.

"S-she always comes in my dreams only to leave immediately", her voice creaks a little. I take her shaking hand in mine and pull her away from me reluctantly.

"Hey, I am here", I tell her, softly. "Now drink this." I drop her hand only for a second to pour water from the bottle into a plastic cup. Wait. Where are these bottles from? Who gave them to her?

"Here." I hand her the small cup.

"No", she shakes her head, and her hair strands whip her face, "I c-can't." Her breathing is shallow and I can see droplets of sweat on her forehead, where some strands of hair are glued to it, wet.

I put the cup on the nightstand where it was, and move the strands from her face, cupping it with my hand.

"Look, I am here like I promised." I smile widely, hoping the piece of my positivity can move to her. "You are okay. That was just a nightmare."

"W-why I a-always have nightmares? T-this is the third... no, fourth I h-ha..." She tries to inhale and exhale, putting her small hand on her chest, probably scared because she cannot feel the air in her lungs.

I notice how her fingers are without her significant rings, yet her nails are still painted in black nail polish that is chopped a little from some parts. I think that they are, as well as her necklace in the drawer, where I put it after the nurses gave it to me. Usually, the process is to keep the belongings of the patients with themselves and once they are discharged they get their things back, but nurses decided to give Stella's jewelry to me, scared that they will lose it in a bunch of other belongings. Unfortunately, her clothes were ripped in the quick process of trying to give her the best treatment and save her heart that almost got hurt by the drugs she consumed. I just know she would scold me if she could hear my thoughts, saying that she only took one pill, and here I am talking as if she took six lines of cocaine.

And instantly I get reminded of Christopher and the way he would sniff cocaine so effortlessly. But that image of his fades quickly, when the new one of the pink-haired girl whose hand reached for the small bag of this white powder, replaces it. She was in such pain back then, having to suffer and I was so blind, when in fact my twin was hurting her in ways I could never even think of.

Wait, this is her thir... fourth nightmare today? What? Why? Why does she have to suffer like this?

"I do not know, baby." I start stroking her head when I realize what I have said. Ups. Why did I have to say that? Why? Stupid Myles. Stupid. I am mentally slapping myself on the forehead, and I would rather do this in person, but I cannot, not wanting to upset Stella.

Her eyes widen, as she focuses them on mine. Just great. How am I going to escape from this?

"I-I am sorry. I d-did not mean to say that."

"N-no. It's okay." Her lips slowly turn into a smile, and her hand finds mine, and takes it, gently. I briefly glance at our hands, realizing that she is not mad that I called her baby. It just slipped from my mouth, I should have been more careful. But, what can I do when I am dying to touch her, call her by cute nicknames and shower her with love, and sweet gestures that she deserves?

"Chloe's mom called me a pumpkin when she was leaving. A pumpkin!", she squeaks sweetly, and her face enlightens and happiness replaces the fear that it was holding a few seconds ago.

"That is so nice." I smile as well while absorbing her beautiful smile that looks so perfect on her tired face.

"Yeah, she is so nice." She pulls her hand away from mine, and I almost wince at the lack of sweet touch. She places her hands on her lap, playing with the edge of her hospital gown's sleeve. Seems like her breathing is steady now.

"Did she bring you those bottles?" I point at them.

"Mhm." She nods, not looking at me. "And she brought me some candies, but I am not hungry. If you are hungry, I can give them to you." She lifts her head, studying my face.

"No, I am not." The moment those words leave my mouth, my stomach growls loud, crying out for food and discovering my lie. Oh, God, what an embarrassment.

"Yeah, sure", she giggles, covering her mouth with her hand, and I wish she did not hide her gorgeous smile.

"The nurse brought this croissant and tea." I point behind me, on the table where the metal plate is resting, with a metal cup, as well, right next to it.

"Well, I am not hungry", she imitates me, which makes me chuckle. And then her stomach repeats what mine did seconds ago.

"Yeah, sure." Now I imitate her and we both burst into a laugh.

"Okay, maybe I am a little."

"Then, I will call her to bring you another tea, because this one must be cold."

"Okay. But we cannot eat only one croissant." She adjusts the pillow and leans onto it, and I scold myself for not doing it myself, so she does not have to hurt herself more.

"Oh, no I can go without it", I say, neglecting the pain in my stomach as it twists, begging me to feed it. I am so sorry, but Stella has to eat, too. She needs it more than me.

"That's not the choice", she pouts, crossing her arms. "Either both of us eat or none."

I groan. This girl is so stubborn sometimes. I love her, God knows how much, but she is so stubborn that I think not even my patience is helping me to put up with her stubbornness.

"Ask her to bring us some leftovers. I'm sure no one eats hospital food, anyway. It's gross."

I remember how this morning we were about to eat breakfast that consisted of ham, and bread. That does not sound awful to me. My stomach growl again, agreeing with my thoughts. Shut up, please, will you?

Sighing, I get up, realizing that she will not let me get away from this without eating.

"Okay. I will be right back."

"Trust me, I am not going anywhere", she giggles, biting her lower lip, and I join her, face-palming myself again.

"Right."

He is so funny with his clumsiness and being shy. I laugh to myself, shaking my head when he leaves the room. My stomach growls again and I scold it:

"If you vomit what I will eat now, then I'm not going to feed you anymore at all, understood?" It growls again, and I take that as a yes. "Good."

I take a sip of water which actually helps me, just like Elen said. I mean, of course, she is right. She is a mother after all. It doesn't matter if she lost her baby, she still deserves a chance to finally care about someone, like it was her own child. And I am happy that chance turned out to be Chloe. They both deserve happiness and I can see in Elen's eyes that she will do anything for my blonde friend. And when it comes to Jason, well...

I am kinda clueless about fathers because I never had one in my life, and whenever I meet a man I expect him to hurt me. And I would continue to believe in that if I hadn't met Myles and if he wasn't here right now, caring about me as if I was a baby, who doesn't know anything except to cry whenever she is hungry, or she needs something.

Baby. He called me baby. I must admit that it surprised me, but at the same time, I like it. When he called me like that, my breathing immediately stopped being shallow and heavy, returning to its normal rhythm. But, fuck my breathing. My heart. My heart jumped and it filled with so much happiness. Just like when Elen called me pumpkin. But this... this is something else. It is...

"I hope I do not spill something." Myles enters the room, holding three plates, and trying to balance them with a cup of tea, hoping not to spill it.

I let out a small laugh, not being able to hold it, when he is this clumsy, it's kinda cute. "Wait, I'll help ya."

"No, no, no!" He stops and looks at me briefly, then focuses his eyes on... Well, our dinner you could say. "Do not leave the bed. I got this."

"Yeah, you certainly do", I chuckle, trying to stop myself from laughing. When he comes closer to the bed I stretch my hand to take the tea because that is the thing that is slowing him down. "There you go. You got it, now."

He smiles when he puts the plates on the bed, proud that he brought our dinner in one piece. Ugh, he is so cute! I wish I could cup his cheeks and kiss them. "Yeah, I got it."

"Where did you get all of this?" I take one croissant and shove it in my mouth, moaning. "Oh, they are with chocolate!"

"Um, the nurse gave them to me. But, honestly, I think this was not dinner, nor leftovers, because she took them from some box from the room for nurses."

"Wow! We have perks!", I joke, laughing, still with a full mouth. "Try it!"

"Um, yeah, we do." He scratches his neck, and I know that people do that when they are nervous, and I try my best not to get reminded of the person who taught me that. Why the hell is he nervous now?

"Um, okay." He takes one piece of the croissant shyly, and shoves it in his mouth, slowly chewing, unlike me who is shoving them aggressively, only swallowing them without any previous chewing. I'm hungry, blame me!

"It's good, right?"

"Um, yeah it is", he smiles, eating slowly, glancing at me shyly, again.

We sit in the silence and sometimes his gaze would catch mine and then he would avert it. Sometimes I would catch him staring at me, but then he would just smile politely, and sheepishly and stop looking at me.

"Oh, gosh, I am full!", I say, laying on the back, and patting my stomach.

"Me too."

"Wanna water?"

"Um... I do not want to take..."

"Okay", I cut him off, pouring it in the plastic cup. "I'm sorry, I don't have another cup. You can have it from this one. I don't mind." I know that he doesn't want to drink from the same cup, because he thinks that I won't like it, scared that...

"No, I'm not thirsty." I frown, trying to realize why he doesn't want to drink from the same cup. Is he afraid that I will infect him with something?

"Myles, I'm not ill. I won't infect you."

"I know, b... Stella, I know." I kinda wish he didn't stop himself and gave me the satisfaction of hearing him saying that simple word that for some unknown reason I begin to like...

"Then?", I press. "Tell me", I add, softer, taking his hand, and I don't miss to hear the small gasp falling from his mouth.

"I am a little bit ill", he finally says, glancing at me, and quickly averts his gaze, letting it fall on the white sheets on the bed.

"What? But what's wrong? Is it...", I trail off, covering my mouth. "Sc..."

"No, no!" He grabs my both hands, pulling them to his chest. "It is not him. It is just that I might have caught some cold, that is all. But I am fine, do not worry. I just do not want to infect you, considering that your organism is already weak."

"I don't care!", I snap, scooting closer to him. "You are gonna drink water. And I'll take care of you when I come back, okay?" I raise my eyebrow, looking at him, over my shoulder, while I take the cup and hand it to him, putting it in front of his chest, and he glances down at it.

"Just like you took care of me, remember?" I smile, hoping he didn't forget.

"Of course I do", he whispers, and I take his hand, wrapping his fingers around the cup, and forcing him to drink. "But I am.."

"Drink it, Myles. No room for discussion. You never gave me choice while you were taking care of me. I will also make you a lot of teas, to see how that is. Just you wait till I leave this place." I wink, chuckling, biting my lower lip, and he chugs the water, revealing how thirsty he actually was.

"I drank on this side, remember, so you can drink from an...."

"Shut up!" I grab the cup, and toss it on the nightstand almost breaking it when it makes the loud sound. . "I don't care if I get a little cold. Trust me, I am used to it."

"Stella...", he trails off, shaking his head. "Who is then going to take care of me if you are sick, too?" He raises his eyebrow, and I narrow my eyes, putting my finger on my chin, thinking. That is a good one.

"Exactly. I will take the plates back." He gets up, not letting me a chance to say anything.

"Mhm." I lay my head on the pillow and close my burning eyes.

After a couple of moments, he comes back, and I sense his presence, while he is slowly walking on his toes.

"I'm not asleep. You can walk normally", I say, not opening my eyes.

"Um, okay." Even without looking, I know that he is scratching his neck.

"I found another cup. It is a clean one", he announces and I feel him putting something on the nightstand, and I just mumble okay.

When I don't feel him next to me anymore, I open my eyes, searching for him. I see him throwing something in the bin I didn't know was there, and then he walks to the armchair and sits there. I frown, parting my lips.

"Why are you sitting there?"

"Um..."

"Don't tell me that it is because you are ill? I told you I didn't care."

"No, um, I do not want to disturb you, and I want to give you space."

I roll my eyes. "Seriously?" He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "Hoop in here. C'mon!" I scoot to make the space for him, taking the blanket off me. "C'mon!"

"Are you sure?" He gets up, hesitating.

"Of course I am. I don't want you to sleep there, and hurt your back. If we slept last night in this bed, why can't we do it again?" What I mean is, please, sleep with me, I didn't have nightmares last night when you were next to me, but I had four this afternoon when you weren't there.

"Or you don't want to sleep here?" I frown, thinking that maybe he isn't going to stay the night this time. "Y-you are going back t-to that h-house?"

Get it together, Stella. Stop stuttering.

"No. No, no, no." He comes to me quickly, and my expression softens, hoping he will caress my cheek, just how he did yesterday and beforehand, but he doesn't. "I will sleep here. I mean if you want me to."

"I want you to." I need you to. I beckon the space I made for him, and he finally starts taking off his boots, putting them neatly on the floor, and lays next to me. I put a blanket on his body, covering it as I stare at his eyes, and he does the same.

"You have crumbs", he says, chuckling a little.

"Oh, do I?" I try to take them off, brushing my cheek with my hand.

"You still have them", he chuckles again. Oh, does he find his amusing?

"Still? Ugh!" This time I use my sleeve to take them off. How rude of me, I know. Ugh, but I don't care. "Now?" He bits his lip, trying not to laugh.

"Well, you still have them. You keep missing the spot." He stretches his hand, reaching for my face, but suddenly stops. "Sorry... I..."

"No, it's okay. If I keep missing the spot, then you do it." He gently brushes my cheek with his thumb and I close my eyes, enjoying the simple, sweet, and tender gesture. When I open them, his pupils are dilated and his warm hand is still on my cheek. He moves it, and I find myself wishing he didn't do that.

"I am sorry for calling you b..."

"Oh, no! It's okay!" I roll my eyes. "Why are you apologizing anyway? It's totally okay. I.. well... I kinda like it", I whisper, looking at his chest, not at his eyes.

Even though I shouldn't, my mind finishes.

He is not Michael.

Yeah, you are right, he isn't.

He never hurt you. He is the one who is still here.

Yeah, but you love Michael. Not him.

Yeah, I do. But is it a crime that I feel safe in his arms, while my head is on his strong warm chest? Is that bad? Is that forbidden? Please, don't let it be, I need some peace, and he is the only one who is giving it to me right now.

"Can I...", I trail off. He opens his arms for me before I can finish the question and my lips curl in a smile. He knew what I wanted to ask him. When I lay my head on his chest, I feel him stiffening under my body, and a silent grunt leaving his mouth.

I quickly move from him, looking at him, confused, and worried, searching for his brown eyes in the darkness of this hospital lonely room that suddenly became my favorite place because he is with me here, and he turned it into the best room, as if it was a room in some expensive hotel in Paris, and not a basic room in the hospital that holds that awful scent I hate so much.

"Is everything okay?" He nods, frowning and I can read the pain on his face, as wrinkles between his ginger eyebrows tell me. "Are you hurt?", I panic, my palm touching his chest, brushing the buttons of his black long-sleeved shirt that I've never seen him wearing before. But, maybe I just never paid attention, since I was too busy with the boy who broke me.

"N-no, I am not", he lies, wincing.

"Don't lie to me, Myles!", I warn, starting to panic. I tilt my head, slightly frowning, but worry covers my whole face.

"I am not." He lays on his hip, but again pain is covering his ginger face, and he can't stop whimpering.

"He beat you, didn't he?", I sob.

"No, he..."

"He did. Because of me." He lifts his upper body off the bed, and cups my face, wiping the tears away. Why do I always cry? I hate tears. Despise them. They always appear when I need them the least.

"No, no. It is not your fault, okay?"

"And you still came back here. You..."

"No one is going to stop me from being next to you. Not even his spanking. Okay? I can..."

"No, you can't!", I cut him off, yelling, but sniffling at the same time. "Look at you! You are in pain! Show me! Show me where he hit you! Show me what that bastard did to you!"

"Stella..." He takes my hand, but I shake my head, swallowing tears.

"Show me...", my voice breaks. "Please... I deserve to see what you got because you want to be next to me."

"Stella..." I tilt my head and sniffle, and soon he takes off his shirt over his head, taking me off guard, surprising me totally.

Wow, I didn't expect this. His muscles tense and his abs, as well, his abdomen sucking in as he inhales. He... is... hot. But, when he turns his back to me, I gasp, immediately forgetting about his handsome and muscular body. There are bruises and hematomas all over it. Red ones. Dark red, and they are, as well, on his hips, which are green and yellow from wounds, and Gosh where do they end?

"Myles... I... I am so sorry.." I slowly touch one of them, and he hisses. Dumb Stella. Why did you do that? "Sorry, I... This is..."

"It is okay." He looks at me over his shoulder, his expression a warm one, and his eyes, too, dispersing the coldness in my body. "Klaus cleaned them. They are going to heal. The pain is just temporary. Do not worry, ba..."

There is that word again. And he is scared that I don't like it. But I love it. "Do not worry, okay?"

I shake my head. "You... You cannot do this anymore. You cannot live like this, anymore. Being beaten all the time. Getting spanking, no. You cannot. I'm... You... Let's go!" I find his eyes widening in the dark. "Let's escape!"

"W-what? L-like now?"

"Tomorrow. Let's leave this shitty life and try to live on our own. Without punches, without warnings and forbidden things, without those bastards and illegal shits, we are surrounded by!"

I search for hope and determination in his eyes. I want to see what he is seeing in my eyes right now, what must be radiating from them. Determination to leave this miserable life of ours and start over. Without things we despise and without hatred that we can feel from both Scott and Alexia.

"I'm not going to let him beat you, anymore. Please, let's just go. I don't want to come back and I don't want to see you like this. In pain. Hurt. You don't deserve this."

She is saying and asking me the exact thing I wanted to ask her. But now...
Now I am hesitating. Why? Because are we really able to really get away from Scott and his people who are spread all over Madison? Where are we going to go? How are we going to succeed?

"Myles.."

Before I can control myself I put my hand on her cheek, and she nuzzles in it, her eyes shining with....hope. She has hope. Hope that we can really succeed. Finally after a long time, maybe years, she has hope. And I cannot destroy it because I am scared. Hope is supposed to be stronger than fear, right?

"I want. I want to escape with you." I continue caressing her cheek, and she seems to be okay with it. I do not know why I cannot stop showing her my love tonight.

I called her baby almost twice, and I cannot stop touching her perfect skin and soft face that is now without all that dark makeup she always put on it, trying to make a mask, and hide behind it. Now, she is without that mask, and I love every single second of it, every single millimeter of her skin without that toxic coverage that keeps ruining her skin, hiding her natural beauty.

But, I have to stop touching her, because I know that my hands and my whole appearance, actually remind her of someone she does not like. And I do not want to tempt it. Instead, I want to see her always like this. With hope.

"I am just scared", I admit. If she is being without her mask, tonight, then I have to be without it, as well. "But I am willing to come with you. I will never leave your side. Never. I will do anything you ask from me."

A tear falls from her eye and rolls down her cheek, and I quickly wipe it. "Please, do not cry. I am okay. I promise."

"I'm crying because I cannot believe how much you care about me. I-I don't deserve it."

"Stella..." I cup both of her cheeks and more tears stream from her emerald eyes. "You deserve everything. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. And much more. So, do not ever think that you do not deserve me, and my care, because trust me you do. And I am going to give you everything I am able to. And I will give you my best to be even better and stronger for you. "

"But you don't have to be. You are already perfect. I..." She bows her head, and tears fall on the sheets under us.

"You what, Stella?" I lift her chin with my finger.

"I just want to stop this shit. Will you help me?"

"Of course. Always." She hugs me for the second time today, but when she touches my bruises she quickly pulls away, and I curse them because I want her in my arms, longer. I do not mind the pain if she is holding me.

"Ugh, shit! Sorry! I'm going to bring some cream to ease the pain. Wait here!" She jumps from the bed before I can stop her, pulling the infusion stand, and tells me one more time not to go. As if I would.

"Trust me I am not going anywhere."

"Hey, is everything okay? You want more croissants?" The brown-haired nurse whom Myles kept mentioning, and who found me after the third nightmare, approaches me.

"Oh, no. Thank you so much for them, though. They were delicious. Um, I way, wondering, if you could give me some cream, um.. for bruises."

"Oh, my God, you two are unbelievable!", the nurse with the blonde hair and black roots that are bigger than they should be, yells annoyed. "You act like this is a hotel, and you can just order anything."

"Shut up, please. Kids have every right to ask for anything. And that is why we are here. To help them."

"And what do you need a cream for?", the evil nurse snaps at me, putting her hands on the desk in a very intimidating way, and I bounce back, scared.

"Um, my... my friend hurt himself and he has bruises and I want t-to help him heal."

"Aw, you two really care for each other", the curly nice nurse coos, smiling.

"Um, well, yeah, we do", I say proudly. We care for each other, and we are willing to do anything for one another.

"I'm sure he isn't your friend, but boy friend." I catch the wink of the nurse with an olive tan, and an eye roll of the blonde nurse. "Don't pay attention to her, she got a leg recently", she whispers. C'mon, I think I have something to help you."

I lay my head on the pillow and turn on my hip because my back is wounded and it hurts when I press them on the sheets. I put my palms under my head and look at the ceiling with millions of tiny dots, that can be seen blurry in the dark room since the light of it is turned off.

We are going to escape. We are actually running away. Together. Finally, it is time for us to leave the place where our social workers put us. But, I like to think that it is destiny the one that put us in the same foster family. It wanted to unite us, so we could find ourselves. So we could build our own strong characters and stop living in the shadow of our foster parents who do not care for our well-being at all.

We are finally getting to continue living the life that was taken from us when our parents decided to ruin it for us. Finally, after all those years, we are going to be able to continue the life we were living when we were children. The carefree one, pure and innocent, without problems, spanking, pain, and sadness. Without darkness that seems to be stronger than us sometimes. Do not think that darkness is not trying to pull me in its abyss, too, and bury me deep, somewhere where I cannot get out from. It is. It is trying so hard. It has been trying since forever. It is just that I never let it take me down. I have been fighting so long, fighting to resist it, and run away from it, though it just does not look as if I was fighting, too, since I always intend to be positive and happy, never wanting to believe in anything bad, you already saw how that turned out. So, I have been fighting for my life, and not letting the darkness overtake it. No. Now, this is going to be our life. Mine and Stella's together.

I close my eyes and try to imagine how our life is going to look, while the smile is dancing on my lips. We are going to laugh every single day, think about positive things, try to overcome our past, and build the best future we can have. We are always going to think of the brightest things and how we are happy that we have each other by our sides. We are never going to give up even if we stumble, albeit if we fall in the mud. We are going to pull each other from it, and clean one another, ready to finish the fight and take the winning place. Because we are winners of our own lives. No one else can take that win. This is our race, and we are going to win it. Not our demons, not angels, not sadness, depression, darkness, not even the devil himself. No, we are going to win the race of our lives.

When I open my eyes, the vision filled with Stella laughing, and being happy, it breaks, seeing her thin body with infusion stand next to her, leaning on the wall, with a sad expression on her beautiful, but tired face.

When I approach the room I see him laying on the bed, on his right hip, because his back is hurt and in pain, not allowing him to sleep and rest in peace. It's all my fault. But now it's over. We are going to save ourselves from that hell our parents put us in. It's their fault that we have to fight for our well-being like this, like wolves, in these young ages, still not understanding life and learning how to survive. Yet we have to fight for ourselves against bad people who are trying to hurt us and take our lives away. But we are now able to fight it, we are now stronger because the fighting is being done together now. If we are going to be together at the field and to cross our weapons not alone, but together, then we can do anything. We can win everyone and we are not going to be scared, because we have each other.

But we are doing the right thing though, are we? Am I doing the right thing by choosing him and not Michael? Can Myles and I fight better, and stronger than Michael and I ever could? Which duo is stronger? Who is stronger? Which duo is able to win the demons who united and are ready to devour us, and leave our bones on the floor, cracked, for the dogs to finish them.

The question stays to wander through the air, without an answer as I stare at Myles cute face with freckles and his thin lips slightly parted. His palms are under his head, and I wonder did he fall asleep. I feel an urge to run my hand through his short ginger hair. I tilt my head and absorb his features as I smile happy, so happy, that he chose to come with me to the unknown without any hesitation, though admitting to me that he is scared. I'm not scared. I'm terrified. But I know that I have him by my side and I feel safe like I've never felt before. Since the moment my mother left me I've never felt safe. Until now. Until this moment. When this cute and handsome boy is next to me. Ready to fight not only evil people, but any kind of creature and even his brother if that is what it takes to keep me safe. But not only safe. He also fights for my happiness and he is the one who wipes my tears even if he feels like a reserve.

And I know he does. It must have crossed his head that I'm just sad and that maybe this care for him is temporary because I'm lonely, so I'm just using him. And at that moment I felt the same. I felt bad for using his kindness when I actually loved the completely another guy. But this ginger boy was my only chance. The only chance I had left after Michael. And I didn't know that I was going to fall in love with the only chance I had left. It was the last shot for happiness and it worked.

But after that moment in the hospital, we've been through a lot. Both him and I. And now while I'm writing this in my cozy room of our apartment, I can't even believe how we had all that strength to fight that hard. To fight for our happiness. To fight for us. But we did it. And as you all hope we won. No, I'm not going to make you wait till the end to let you know that we succeeded. Myles and I succeeded. Together. But at that moment while I was leaning on the door frame I was beginning to realize that I was feeling something for this ginger boy as much as I doubted our actions we hadn't even started yet.

And at that moment when he opened his eyes and they instantly laid on mine, shining in the dark room while I was standing there enlightened by the light coming from the hospital, I felt that everything was possible if I'm going to have him looking at me like this. Like I'm his everything.

"Come", I whisper, stretching my hand to beckon her, slowly getting up, and coming in a sitting position. She pulls the stand and walks to the bed. I move so she can get in, my eyes never leaving her.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You." My eyes widen when she locks hers with them, and I confuse. "How kind and caring you are."

"Do not start about that thing where you do not deserve me", I warn, smiling.

"Okay." She shrugs, bowing her head, and hugging her knees.

"Just that? You were not thinking about anything else?"

"Yeah, I did." She tilts her head. "About how we can get caught, and this game of ours can be ruined. This escape", she makes air quotes, "can turn to be just a failure."

"Hey." I lift her chin with my thumb, grazing her soft skin there, and she looks at me with a worried expression. "This is not a game of ours", I correct her with a serious tone, though trying not to intimidate her, since I know she easily gets scared. "This is the fight for our lives, okay? And we cannot be scared because there is a risk. Yeah, maybe we could get caught, but Stella", I take her hand in mine, warming it, when I realize how cold it is, "just think about the freedom we could have. Just think of not seeing him..."

Her pulse quickens I feel it on her hand, which becomes to shake, and her eyes widen in fear. So, I squeeze it gently, caressing it slowly with my thumb.

"B-but... He is still your brother. You are ready to sacrifice not seeing him again just because of me?" She bows her head but still keeps looking at me, with her sad eyes.

"Not, just because, but because of you", I correct her once again. "Because of your happiness. I already told you that I would do anything. And he... he committed a crime. I am not ready to forgive him. To forgive him for hurting you." I slightly shake my head, decisive.

She is the one who is lifting my chin, now and her eyes are filling with tears. She puts her cold hand on my cheek, but I do not flinch from coldness, as she caresses my jaw with her thumb. Her gaze falls on my lips, but she quickly moves it to my eyes.

"Turn around and take off your shirt. I'll put this on your wounds." She waves the little tube that her little hand is squeezing.

As much as I would love to kiss her, I know that it would be wrong and disrespectful. She is still hurting. She still loves him and she is suffering and I know how much she does not want to admit that she is hoping that he could return her love in a way she is giving him. That he can love her unconditionally, how she loves him. And I know that she is going to be healing for a long time. And I am totally okay with that. She can be healing however much she needs to. I will wait. I will be waiting for the rest of my life if it is needed.

Maybe our purpose is to fight for our lives and maybe the gift that is waiting for us at the end of the race is freedom and happiness, but I am fighting for her love, and I hope that is the gift that is waiting for me. The gift is her love. And whenever I will feel as I want to give up, whenever I will feel too weak to continue, I will remember that gift that is finally going to be mine. One day. But not today. Not tonight. But some day.

She applies the cold cream on my wounds, and I wince, frowning from the sudden burning that has not stopped but now is increasing. But when I feel her soft hands spreading it on my whole back I slightly smile, feeling as her hands are the only thing I actually need to heal. As her touch is my salvation. I do not need any other medicine, or pomade to heal my physical bruises. Her touch is enough for that.

But when her lips collide with my bare skin, and she kisses my bruises not only that I do not feel pain, but I feel as I immediately healed. She repeats the action, which surprises me, and I close my eyes, trying to absorb this moment perfectly and the feeling her lips on my skin are giving me. She then continues spreading the cold cream on my back with her hands and when I turn my head to look at her over my shoulder, our gazes lock immediately, and she weakly smiles as my heart skips a beat for seeing her this happy.

For a long time, I could see her feeling relieved, and I think this is the moment when her back is free from holding the burden, just like mine is, too, despite the wounds that are burning with my opened and sensitive skin. This is the moment where we can imagine that our race is going to be filled with flowers that are going to blossom and surround our path and their smell is going to mesmerize us, even though that is not what is going to happen. Even though our path is going to be filled with a lot of obstacles and holes in which we can fall, and one of us may not be able to pull the other out, we still want to imagine that behavior floral field that is going to be our path where whenever we get tired we can just lay on the grass and relax, inhaling the scent of all kind of flowers.

That night is when our hopes were the highest when we were most decisive to do something. Tonight in the hospital bed, Stella and I believe that our destiny can be changed if we try the best we can. If we unit our powers and fight not against each other, but against the others who want to take our lives. We believe. At this night. And as soon as the night is over it is when our journey will begin and that is when we are actually going to feel our body burning, and the heavy burden on our hurt back, all over again. But now we still can dream a little more and enjoy the night before our battle begins.

"We are going to make it. Believe it, Stella."

She leans her forehead on mine, closing her emerald eyes.

"I believe."