Summary: âJake can't escape his own desires: in every dream, he finds you. Between the flight of his pursuers and the intensity of his longing, the only thing keeping him going is the desperate need to see you again.â
Do i know you? (Jake x MC)
Summary: "Jake never dreamed, but when he did, he saw her⊠and loved her in a life that wasn't his. Years later, in a simple coffee shop, reality and dream intersect, and he realizes that she was always his destiny."
Ephemeral (Jake x MC)
After the events of Do I Know You?, Jake needed to do one last thing.
Summary: "For Jake, life has always been defined as ephemeral, but after unexpected turns, he ultimately discovers the concept of eternity. A single constant in a chaotic worldâa woman who has changed everything for him.
Summary: "Since the tragedy that took everything from her, she lives trapped between the smoke of memories and the shadows of the forest. Nightmares and guilt consumes her. But when the past knocks again, bringing with it the one person she swore to forget, she must decide: keep running, or finally face the fire that never stopped burning."
Well... after what felt like an eternity, I'm finally a little freer đ«
I'll be focusing on new stories again soon, and I've also been thinking about taking requests from anyone who'd like me to try writing about something specific. I can't promise I'll be able to fulfill every request, but if you'd like to suggest something, I'd be delighted to give it a try đ«Ąâšïž
I always think that my MC wouldn't fall for Jake so quickly in a normal context; maybe she'd see him more as a friend than a potential romance, and that's really conflicting for my brain because why on earth wouldn't my MC like Jake from the very beginning?
I look at her photos over and over again, wondering how a woman like her could have noticed a man like me.
She is at least too perfect in my eyes, as if she were someone who should not exist.
Her smile lights up every photograph, outshining the people she is with.
Even in those photos where she looks like she just woke up, with messy hair, I find her to be a goddess.
When she asked me my name, saying that she liked me, I could not believe it. I wanted to ignore it, to take it as a joke. I am not perfect, I look haggard since I ran away, without worrying about how I looked or trying to hide my features a little so that no one could notice too much about me if they asked about me. I know it would be the last option for anyone right now, but for Macie? I am trying to understand what she saw in me.
Perhaps that is why I dared to ask if she was seeing anyone. Why would not she? I know she's told me several times that she's not with anyone, but it is hard to believe when I see her photos. It is impossible that someone could see her and not think, 'I wish I were with her'. She is funny and her way of thinking is curious, with a need to know everything. I take too much of a risk when I talk to her and tell her something about myself, because all I want to do is talk to her.
Or at least listen to her. She is always talking, but it does not bother me. I like listening to her talk; the sound of her voice draws me in. I want to listen to her forever.
And yet, I know it is impossible.
But how can I control it when she is near? I do my best to control myself as I have done until now, even though that attraction to her grows stronger every day. All I can think is, the more forbidden it is, the more attractive it becomes. You know you cannot and should not touch it, but you just wish you could, to know what it feels like. That small touch has been proof that my impulses should stop, that I cannot let that barrier that separates us collapse. She is the one who would be hurt the most if she knew the truth. She is full of light, something I could extinguish at any moment by dragging her into my life.
I like Macie just the way she is: Untouched by my problems, by the dangers of my world. If I let her get involved with it, I could lose her. I do not want to do that, even if we are going to separate someday. Yes, conflicting thoughts. I should clarify all these confusing thoughts if I want to continue investigating. But I cannot. It is impossible for me.
  <<How do you stop a bird that only longs for freedom?>>
I long to love her even though I should not, to be able to be honest with her and explain everything I am starting to feel. It is impossible. I cannot keep her locked away in my darkness and loneliness when she is the complete opposite.
I put my hand to my chest, feeling a sharp pain. My feelings are out of control; it is been so many years since I have felt anything but loneliness and emptiness, that when I met her, it is as if everything wants to come out of the depths where I buried it.
I take a breath almost desperately, feeling a great weight on top of me.
I look up and see her photos. It hurts so much that when she is so close to me, I cannot do anything.
I raise my hand and trace her blonde hair with my finger, until I reach her lips. I feel like a pervert doing this, but it is the closest I know I will be to touching her the way I want to.
Because I sm sure that if I ever touch it, I will feel like I am taking possession of a light that should not belong to me.
I want Macie's light to move away from my darkness.
I want her to keep smiling in the photos.
I wish I could love her without anything stopping me.
----
I miss the Jake from the game, I needed to write something canon and at the same time inspired by my story 'What if...? Duskwood', that conflicted Jake drives me crazy.
A veces me pregunto si el destino tiene un sentido del humor retorcido o si simplemente soy un imĂĄn para las tragedias.
Duskwood todavĂa se siente como una herida abierta, un zumbido constante en la base de mi crĂĄneo que no me deja dormir. No puedo olvidar, no puedo fingir que nada ha sucedido y tampoco puedo dejar de notar las piezas faltantes a mi alrededor.
Cleo me esperaba a la entrada, encogida por el frĂo. Al verme, sus hombros se relajaron y pareciĂł soltar una carga invisible. No creo que esperara que de verdad me presentase aquĂ, no con el FBI aĂșn rondando por la zona y con Alan todavĂa queriendo interrogarme.
Mis botas crujieron sobre las piedras del camino, triturando la gravilla hĂșmeda bajo las suelas; un sonido seco y regular. El lugar olĂa a tierra mojada, y cada exhalaciĂłn se volvĂa una nube pĂĄlida frente a mi cara.
âEs por aquĂ âdijo ella, guiĂĄndome hacia el interior.
La cantera era enorme, perfecta para esconderse un tiempo debido a la inmensidad de las instalaciones. Con los carteles de peligro de derrumbe custodiando la entrada, era poco probable que alguien se arriesgara a merodear por allĂ.
ExceptuĂĄndonos.
No quise creer lo que vi en aquella videollamada. HabĂa intentado de convencerme que era algo imposible, que Richard Rogers de verdad estaba muerto y que en caso contrario, se habrĂa entregado.
Pero Richy estaba allĂ.
Bajo una capa de mugre que le cubrĂa el rostro, allĂ estaba.
El desprecio debĂa de estar dibujado en mi cara para cuando sus ojos se fijaron en mi presencia. PodĂa notarlo en la contracciĂłn que mis labios mantenĂan para no gritarle y en el ligero temblor debajo de mi ojo.
Al final, obtuve mi confirmaciĂłn en cuanto el antiguo mecĂĄnico asintiĂł con un gesto lento.
âDebiĂł ser cuando intentĂł sacarme de allĂ.. âRichy bajĂł la mirada, y mi mandĂbula se tensĂł al oĂrloâ. El fuego estaba demasiado cerca de nosotros cuando me encontrĂł.
Un zumbido ensordecedor comenzĂł a crecer en mis oĂdos.
âÂĄMC, basta! âEl grito de Cleo detrĂĄs mĂo llegĂł distorsionado.
No quiero detenerme.
Los oscuros ojos de Richy se clavaron en los mĂos. No se resistiĂł ni intentĂł alejarme, simplemente lo aceptĂł. SĂłlo aceptĂł el castigo con una resignaciĂłn que me dio nĂĄuseas, y eso me hizo odiarlo mĂĄs.
No podĂa reconocerlo como un antiguo amigo ni como un enemigo.
âRichy, es importante que lo encontremos. Si pudieras decirnos dĂłnde estĂĄ... âLa urgencia de Cleo era evidente, pero Richy se limitĂł a negar con la cabeza.
âSĂłlo mencionĂł que debĂa encontrarte âmurmurĂł mirĂĄndome directamente a los ojos.
âMe salvĂł, aunque me dio una buena golpiza una vez que estuvimos seguros Richy soltĂł una risa aunque manteniendo una expresiĂłn apagadaâ. Tiene un gancho derecho impresionante.
Richy se deslizĂł por la pared hasta quedar sentado de nuevo, jadeando. Se cubriĂł el rostro con las manos sucias y, por primera vez, el silencio entre los cuatro fue absoluto. Ya ninguno de nosotros era como al principio, o mejor dicho, nuestras mĂĄscaras habĂan desaparecido.
Realmente no podĂa entender cĂłmo pudo llegar a la conclusiĂłn de que yo serĂa capaz de ocultarle algo como esto a Jessy.
âNo puedo hacer esto...
Los labios de Cleo se movieron mientras retrocedĂa con cierta torpeza. Su mano intentĂł alcanzarme, pero mis piernas habĂan recuperado una fuerza y estabilidad nuevas que me obligaron a bajar las escaleras lo mĂĄs rĂĄpido posible.
"No me siento como yo."
âSiento ira todo el tiempo...â
El recuerdo de mis propias palabras âlas que le habĂa confesado a Nolan hacĂa un par de semanas atrĂĄsâ consiguieron hacerme perder el equilibrio en el Ășltimo escalĂłn.
El peso de la culpa era fĂsico, una presiĂłn en el pecho que me recordaba que pude haber hecho mĂĄs.
Todo esto estaba sucediendo solo por mĂ.
PodrĂa haber insistido mĂĄs, ignorar cualquier palabra de Jake o de los demĂĄs y simplemente ir a la mina de hierro aquella noche. Cargar con todo sola y en el peor de los casos se habrĂa terminado para mĂ.
ÂżEra peligroso para mĂ estar allĂ? Pues, si. Casi tanto como haberme atrevido a pisar Duskwood, tal vez incluso mĂĄs, pero lo cierto es que ya estaba cansada de ser la Ășnica que no se arriesgaba.
Redlog era demasiado tranquilo, una pequeña ciudad, aunque mås grande que Duskwood. Los årboles eran abundantes en la zona, y las personas no estaban tan acostumbradas a los visitantes.
Violet estaba atendiendo a algunos clientes mientras Charlie, Ash y Eric se encontraban sentados en una mesa cercana a las ventanas donde la luz de la tarde entraba de lleno.
Eric fue el primero en verme, su rostro se iluminĂł de inmediato. Vi cĂłmo su sonrisa crecĂa, transformĂĄndose de una lĂnea tĂmida a un gesto amplio que enseñaba los dientes.
âPues para estar tan cansada, tienes una punterĂa excelente para aparecer justo cuando la comida estĂĄ por salir âse burlĂł Charlie, dĂĄndole un sorbo a su bebida y lanzĂĄndome una mirada cargada de picardĂaâ. ÂżO es que usas tus habilidades de detective para oler el pastel desde la biblioteca?
Periodista insoportable
Tuve que taparme la boca para reprimir una carcajada en cuando Ash lo golpeĂł en la cabeza con su cuaderno de anotaciones.
Ash se interrumpiĂł al ver que Eric ya no estaba sentado con nosotros.
âÂżA dĂłnde ha ido? âpreguntĂł Ash, confundida.
âDijo que necesitaba estirar las piernas o algo asĂ ârespondiĂł Charlie restĂĄndole importancia, volviendo a sumergirse en las pistas esparcidas por la mesaâ. Mencionaste que en la cinta escucharon a dos niños, Adam y otra niña que...
Antes de seguir serpenteando por mis pensamientos, unas manos conocidas aparecieron en mi campo de visiĂłn y depositaron un macchiato humeante junto con un pastel de chocolate.
Un pequeño sonido de asombro, casi un suspiro, escapĂł de mis labios sin permiso y todo el cansancio y la amargura de la Ășltima hora se convirtiĂł en un murmullo lejano.
Eric se sentĂł junto a Ash, justo frente a mĂ y sigue sonriendo para sĂ mismo, casi como si se sintiera orgulloso. Apenas sonreĂ un poco por aquella tonterĂa cuando desvĂe mis ojos hacia la barra. Un hombre se habĂa detenido en el camino y nos miraba fijamente. Recordaba haberlo cruzado en estos dĂas, era el mismo hombre que habĂa tropezado conmigo hacĂa dos dĂas.
El hombre se quedĂł estĂĄtico, como si no pudiera comprender lo que habĂa sucedido, incluso me pareciĂł verlo mover sus labios, aunque nada saliĂł de ellos.
âDiablos, esto no puede estar pasando âLa chica empezĂł a protestar, con el rostro encendido por la indignaciĂłn.
IntentĂł asomarse por encima de mi hombro, pero me movĂ con ella, bloqueĂĄndole el paso de forma accidental para tenderle un par de servilletas con torpeza.
âÂĄOye! ÂĄVuelve aquĂ, maldito...! âgritĂł ella, soltando un bufido de completa frustraciĂłn.
Yo solo esperaba que mi intuiciĂłn no me hubiera traicionado.
El viento frĂo me golpeĂł en la cara apenas salĂ de la cafeterĂa. Por supuesto, me habĂa olvidado la campera adentro por lo que reprimĂ un gemido, arrugando la nariz con molestia, antes de dirigirme al auto.
SacudĂ la cabeza, pero no fue suficiente para quitarme la imagen de aquellos ojos azules. Su mirada me habĂa escaneado con una familiaridad tan intensa, como si me conociera de otra vida, o peor, de una parte de mi vida que intentaba mantener bajo llave.
La zona en la que me estaba quedando era tranquila y algo alejada del centro del pueblo. Casi nadie solĂa pasearse demasiado rato por aquĂ.
Me dirigĂ hacia el portal con la vista fija en el suelo, buscando la llave correcta, pero algo me hizo detenerme en seco.
Todo se veĂa normal frente a mĂ. No habĂa movimiento, ni ruido, nada que indicase peligro. Y aĂșn asĂ, sentĂ ese peso incĂłmodo sobre mĂ. La certeza de que no estaba sola allĂ.
âNo me gusta que me observen, Âżsabes? âMe atrevĂ a decir al aire, algo insegura, pero aĂșn asĂ poniendo toda la firmeza en mis palabras al hablar.
Por un momento no sucediĂł nada, lo cual me hizo preguntarme si el cansancio estaba provocandome cosas o si la locura habĂa empezado a asentarse en mĂ.
HabĂa crecido en un entorno en el que siempre debĂa mirar demasiado, observar cada detalle, interpretar rostros y silencios. Por lo que si eso estaba comenzando a fallarme estarĂa perdida.
Entonces lo vi aparecer, el mismo hombre del restaurante.
No tenĂa el aspecto impecable de alguien que busca llamar la atenciĂłn, pero sus facciones afiladas, marcadas por el cansancio, mostraban un atractivo Ășnico que provocarĂa cosas en cualquiera.
âEs un mal hĂĄbito ârespondiĂł con una calma extrañamente reconfortanteâ. Ya me lo han mencionado antes.
Escuchar su voz me produjo un calor interno, como si una melodĂa familiar regresara de golpe y pudiera reconocerla sĂłlo con la primera nota. JamĂĄs habĂa escuchado hablar a este hombre asĂ como tampoco podrĂa reconocerlo con sĂłlo mirarlo. No era un rostro que hubiera visto antes, y sin embargo, sentĂ que lo conocĂa de una vida anterior.
âÂżAh si? ÂżNo has pensado en corregirlo?
Ăl inclinĂł apenas la cabeza, como si la pregunta le hubiera causado gracia.
Sus ojos se quedaron sobre mĂ demasiado tiempo. No de una forma invasiva, sino con una intensidad silenciosa que me hizo olvidar todas las preocupaciones que venĂa cargando conmigo.
Una sombra de sonrisa apareció en la comisura de sus labios. Pequeña. Casi inexistente. Pero suficiente para transformarle el rostro cansado por un segundo.
No podĂa soportar esto. No cuando me desarmaba con tanta facilidad.
SubiĂł otro escalĂłn despacio, pero sin el gramo de duda que me estaba consumiendo. Sus ojos se mantuvieron fijos en los mĂos mientras subĂa las escaleras acortando la distancia con una determinaciĂłn silenciosa que me llevĂł a retroceder un milimetro.
âY no lo he hecho âdijo, y su voz, ahora que estaba ahĂ, sonĂł aĂșn mĂĄs baja, mĂĄs densaâ. Te prometĂ que no lo harĂa, MC.
LevantĂł una de sus manos, dĂĄndome tiempo para apartarme si quisiera, pero yo sabĂa bien que no lo harĂa, no cuando su toque era lo que mĂĄs habĂa anhelado. Sus dedos tibios rozaron la lĂnea de mi mandibula con suma cautela, como si tuviera miedo de que me escapase.
âEstĂĄs temblando âmurmurĂł, era una observaciĂłn dolorosamente tierna. Su pulgar delineĂł lentamente el borde de mi pĂłmulo, inclinando apenas mi rostro hacia arriba.
âEs el frĂo âmentĂ en un hilo de voz, aunque ambos sabĂamos que no tenĂa nada que ver con eso.
Ăl no respondiĂł con palabras. Se inclinĂł un poco mĂĄs, reduciendo los Ășltimos centĂmetros con una lentitud que me obligĂł a cerrar los ojos, anticipando el impacto.
Nuestros labios se encontraron despacio, casi con cautela, como si ninguno de los dos quisiera romper ese instante demasiado pronto. Fue un roce suave, exploratorio... una pregunta suspendida entre nosotros.
El beso se volviĂł intenso, hambriento, como si estuviera tratando de recuperar cada segundo de los meses de silencio en un solo contacto.
Cada vez que nuestras lenguas se rozaban, el mundo exterior âel FBI, las desapariciones, las sospechasâ se desvanecĂa hasta quedar reducido a cenizas. Solo existĂa el roce de su chaqueta contra mi ropa, el sonido de nuestra respiraciĂłn entrecortada y esa forma suya de buscar mi boca, como quien encuentra agua en mitad del desierto.
Pero en cuanto mis dedos ejercieron presiĂłn en el costado izquierdo de su espalda, Jake se tensĂł por completo.
SoltĂł un ahogo contenido, un quejido agudo que ahogĂł contra mis labios, interrumpiendo el beso de golpe. Se quedĂł inmĂłvil, con la frente apoyada en mi hombro y la respiraciĂłn rota, acelerada por algo que no era pasiĂłn.
Jake notĂł cĂłmo yo cedĂa silenciosamente a su pedido, y sus manos soltaron mis muñecas antes de entrelazar sus dedos con los mĂos, dispuesto a que lo guiase.
Sometimes i wonder if fate has a twisted sense of humor, or if iâm simply a magnet for tragedy.
Duskwood still feels like an open wound, a constant buzzing at the base of my skull that wonât let me sleep. I canât forget, i canât pretend nothing happened, and i canât stop noticing the missing pieces all around me.
Cleoâs call was the trigger that shattered my fragile calm. Seeing Richyâs face on that video call, after all the pain... It didnât amuse me in the slightest. On the contrary, I felt the blood rush straight to my head.
How did Cleo expect me to keep something like that secret? How did she expect me to look the other way while Jessy was still broken by his absence?
Keeping the truth from her felt like a betrayal of my own, a burden I wasnât willing to carry.
I turned off the car engine, glancing over what Dan had called the old gravel plant.
Cleo was waiting for me at the entrance, hunched against the cold. When she saw me, her shoulders relaxed and she seemed to let go of some invisible weight. I donât think she actually expected me to show up hereânot with the FBI still circling the area and Alan still wanting to question me.
My boots crunched over the stones on the path, grinding the damp gravel beneath my soles; a dry, steady sound. The place smelled of wet earth, and every exhale turned into a pale cloud in front of my face.
âItâs this wayâ she said, leading me further inside.
The gravel plant was enormous, the perfect place to hide for a while thanks to the sheer size of the facilities. With warning signs about cave-ins guarding the entrance, it was unlikely anyone would risk wandering around there.
Anyone except us.
I didnât want to believe what I had seen during that video call. I had tried to convince myself it was impossible, that Richard Rogers was truly dead and that, if he werenât, he would have turned himself in.
But Richy was there.
Beneath the layer of grime covering his face, he was there.
Alive.
Injured.
Pathetic.
I could still recognize him even from several feet away. His dark blond hair, his tired eyes, those thin lips.
There was something deeply insulting about his survival, a mixture of fragility and guilt that churned my stomach. Seeing him there, accepting Cleoâs backpack with an evasive look in his eyes, didnât make me feel pity, only an indignation that burned my throat.
The contempt must have been written all over my face by the time his eyes landed on me. I could feel it in the tightness of my lips as I fought not to scream at him, and in the slight twitch beneath my eye.
âMC...â he whispered, surprised to see me there.
His voice sent a sharp pang through me. For a moment, I remembered our past conversations, those times when nothing seemed to be what it was, when it felt impossible that he could be capable of hurting Jessy, kidnapping Hannah, lying to all of them⊠lying to me.
So many times I tried to deceive myself, to believe that maybe, for once, my suspicions were wrong.
Even though deep down I had always known the truth.
Cleo remained silent, waiting for my reaction just like the ghost standing before me. I wanted to feel nothing but anger, wanted Richyâs mere presence to disgust me, but somewhere deep downâburied nowâthere was still sadness for someone I had once considered my friend.
âWhere is he?â My voice came out sharper than i intended, stripped of any kindness.
Richy hesitated before answering, uncertain of how he should act around me. During our last conversation, he had asked if I believed him when he said he was sorry, and yet even now, standing in front of him, I still couldnât find the answer.
âHeâs not here,â he said, tightening his grip on the backpack straps. âHe left shortly after we managed to get out of the tunnels.â
Jake wouldnât stay in one place for long.
He couldnât, especially not with him.
âThere were helicopters searching for him that night... maybe two or three. I managed to guide us toward another exit, farther away, enough to buy us some time,â he explained, his eyelids lowering over his brown eyes for a few seconds. âHe didnât stay here with me, if thatâs what you want to know. We split up in the woods after I pointed him toward somewhere he could go.â
From his expression, i knew he hadnât the faintest idea whether Jake had followed his advice. I could also tell he wouldnât be able to help me find him.
I had held onto the hope of finally learning something more about him, something that could tell me where he was and how I could help him, but now I felt farther away than ever.
âWas he hurt?â I asked. The image of the torn jacket Alan had shown in that video flashed through my mind like lightning, burning through me.
What condition was he in now, if that was the case?
How badly had he been hurt?
In the end, i got my confirmation the moment the former mechanic nodded slowly.
âIt mustâve happened when he tried to get me out of there...â Richy lowered his gaze, and my jaw tightened at his words. âThe fire was too close to us when he found me.â
A deafening buzzing began to grow in my ears.
Jake had risked his life. He was injured and alone, with the FBI probably closer to him than ever.
Maybe they had caught him. Maybe Dan was right, and the only reason they were pulling back was because they already had him.
Before I could process it, and with a force I didnât know I possessed, I shoved Richy against the wall. My fingers dug hard into the fabric of his filthy clothes. Cleo let out a choked gasp at the sharp sound of the impact.
My breathing trembled.
If i lost someone else...
If i lost him...
âAnd you just let him go like that?â I hissed through clenched teeth. The air around me seemed to vibrate with tension. âYou just split up? You just pointed him somewhere and left?â
âI had no choice.â
âYou had no choice?â I repeated. âHe saved your life!â
I felt capable of tearing the skin from his face if I wanted to.
No one had forced him into this. He alone was responsible for everything spiraling out of control.
âYouâre a coward. A damn hypocrite, thatâs what you are,â I spat, pouring every ounce of contempt and rage i could into the words.
I felt so helpless that i could simply...
It wasnât just anger. It was the need to demand justice, to force someone to pay after so much suffering, the visceral need to unload the suffocating fear of losing Jake onto someone.
âHow can you still stand here? How do you sleep after everything youâve done?â I couldnât understand it. I couldnât understand how Richy had chosen to hide, to run from his crimes.
âMC, stop!â Cleoâs shout behind me sounded distorted.
I donât want to stop.
Richyâs dark eyes locked onto mine. He didnât resist or try to push me away. He simply accepted it. He accepted the punishment with a resignation that made me sick, and that only made me hate him more.
I couldnât recognize him as either an old friend or an enemy.
âRichy, itâs important that we find him. If you could tell us where he is...â Cleoâs urgency was obvious, but Richy only shook his head.
âHe only said he needed to find youâ he murmured, looking directly into my eyes.
My lower lip twitched at his words. I tightened my fists around his jacket, feeling the air leave my lungs.
He was looking for me.
Jake.
A burning knot settled in my throat, suffocating me. I fought to keep my gaze fixed on him, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to blur everything.
âHe saved me, even though he beat the hell out of me once we were safe,â Richy let out a weak laugh while keeping that hollow expression. âHeâs got an impressive right hook."
I imagined Jake, injured and exhausted, using what strength he had left not to run, but to make Richy answer for what he had done to me.
My chest ached when i thought about him, alone somewhere in the shadows. I clenched my teeth until my jaw hurt, swallowing down the sob fighting to escape my chest.
âIâm sorry...â Richy stammered, his eyes glassy.
I avoided his gaze, trying to hide any trace of my own weakness. He couldnât see my tears. I couldnât allow it.
âIâm tired of your apologies.â My voice came out broken, heavy with a weariness that bent my spine.
My hands released his clothes, and I staggered backward, painfully aware of the blood pounding in my ears.
Richy slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor again, gasping for breath. He covered his face with his dirty hands and, for the first time, the silence between the three of us became absolute. None of us were the same anymoreâor rather, our masks had fallen away.
The sweet, innocent mechanic and the benevolent stranger.
I turned toward Cleo, and unable to withstand the icy fury radiating from my eyes, she immediately lowered her gaze, seeking refuge in the shadows on the ground.
I truly couldnât understand how she had come to the conclusion that iâd be capable of hiding something like this from Jessy.
âI canât do this...â
Cleoâs lips moved as she stepped back clumsily. Her hand reached toward me, but my legs had regained a sudden strength and steadiness that forced me down the stairs as quickly as possible.
âI donât feel like myself.â
âI feel angry all the time...â
The memory of my own wordsâthe ones i had confessed to Nolan a couple of weeks agoâmade me stumble on the last step.
I ducked to avoid the debris at the entrance, but the movement was a mistake. The world tilted violently and I lost my balance, forcing me to reach for support that wasnât there. I tried to breathe, but the attempt was useless; my throat had become a narrow passage that closed tighter every time I tried to inhale.
My knees slammed against the ground with an impact i barely felt, eclipsed by the terror of not being able to breathe. I ended up crawling across the dirt, scraping my palms against the gravel until i reached the shadow of my car.
I hid there like a child, curled into myself with my arms wrapped around my legs, unable to stop the tears and pathetic whimpers of anguish.
The weight of guilt was physical, a pressure in my chest reminding me that i could have done more.
All of this was happening because of me.
I could have insisted harder, ignored every word from Jake and everyone else, and simply gone to the iron mine that night. Taken it all on alone, and in the worst-case scenario, it would have ended with me.
If something had happened to him, it would haunt me for the rest of my life.
I stayed there for a while, listening to my breathing slowly steady itself against the silence of the quarry. And when the trembling in my hands eased a little, I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket to get rid of the tears.
I rested my hand on the car door handle and forced myself inside, determined to avoid a conversation with Cleo because I would most likely fall apart in front of her.
Once inside, the silence of the car wrapped around me. I instinctively pulled out my phone, my heart lurching at the slightest possibility of finding something. But the screen lit up showing only my usual wallpaper.
There were no encrypted messages on my phone, no signs of life from Nym-os, only emptiness.
Where would you go, Jake? If you were hurt, if you couldnât hide here anymore... where would you look for shelter in a place like this?
â€
An hour later, I had managed to make it to Bekyâs restaurant. The group was waiting for me inside, since they had grown somewhat used to us gathering to organize our next steps regarding Adamâs disappearance.
Was it dangerous for me to be there? Well, yes. Almost as dangerous as daring to set foot in Duskwoodâmaybe even moreâbut the truth was that I was tired of being the only one who never took risks.
I took a second to send Cleo a message. I knew her intention in having me see Richy had never been for me to unleash my anger on him, but to find Jake.
MC:
Sorry for leaving like that.
Iâll talk to you later.
I slipped my phone back into the pocket of my jacket before pushing the door open and heading downstairs.
Redlog was too quiet. A small town, though bigger than Duskwood. Trees were abundant in the area, and people werenât particularly used to visitors.
Violet was serving a few customers while Charlie, Ash, and Eric sat at a table near the windows where the afternoon light poured in.
Eric was the first to notice me, his face lighting up immediately. I watched his smile grow, changing from a shy line into a wide grin that showed his teeth.
I greeted him with a small wave from the doorway, smiling only as much as my body would allow.
âMC! We thought youâd fallen asleep buried under your booksâ Charlie joked, making room for me at the table.
âAlmost.â I smiled faintly as i dropped into the seat beside him. âBut hunger won over exhaustion.â
Eric, seated directly across from me, gave me one last look filled with understanding before glancing toward the counter. I noticed him shifting slightly in his seat, but Charlieâs voice claimed all my attention, becoming the center of the noise around me.
âWell, for someone so tired, youâve got excellent timing showing up right when the foodâs about to come out,â Charlie teased, taking a sip of his drink and shooting me a mischievous look. âOr do you use your detective skills to smell cake all the way from the library?â
Insufferable journalist.
I had to cover my mouth to suppress a laugh when Ash smacked him over the head with her notebook.
âWill you shut up already? Weâve had enough of you,â Ash snapped. Charlie rolled his eyes while rubbing the spot where sheâd hit him. âEric, what do you think aboutââ
Ash cut herself off when she noticed Eric was no longer sitting with us.
âWhere did he go?â she asked, confused.
âHe said he needed to stretch his legs or something,â Charlie replied dismissively, diving back into the clues scattered across the table. âYou mentioned that on the tape they heard two children, Adam and another girl whoââ
I stayed quiet for a moment, listening to them while mentally reviewing everything we knew so far.
Adam and the forest.
Whitmore.
The Greenside Motel.
The stranger.
The recording.
The body.
As for the corpse, the silence remained absolute. No one had even managed to confirm whether it belonged to a man or a woman. Charlie, in a reckless burst of curiosity, had been caught right at the crime scene after slipping under the police tape, only to be dragged back out by officers seconds later.
Two days had passed. What were they waiting for?
Before i could spiral deeper into my thoughts, familiar hands appeared in my line of sight and placed a steaming macchiato alongside a slice of chocolate cake in front of me.
A tiny sound of surpriseâalmost a sighâescaped my lips without permission, and all the exhaustion and bitterness of the past hour faded into a distant murmur.
Chocolate...
I looked up at Eric, feeling my eyes brighten for the first time all day with genuine, almost childlike gratitude.
âYou said you liked itâ he pointed out with a shrug.
I didnât know what to say beyond a soft, quiet âthank youâ confused by the sudden gesture and the fact that he had remembered such an offhand comment. Sweetness flooded my mouth when I tasted the macchiato. It had exactly the right amount of sugar.
Eric sat back down beside Ash, directly across from me, still smiling to himself as though he felt oddly proud. I smiled faintly at the silliness of it before my eyes drifted toward the counter.
A man had stopped in the middle of the room and was staring at us.
I recognized him. Iâd crossed paths with him over the past few days. He was the same man who had bumped into me two days ago.
The way he looked at us intrigued me, as though he were trying to see some kind of connection. His blue eyes fixed on me and then on the coffee.
He studied me as if i were a ghostâor an answer he hadnât expected to find.
Whatâs wrong with him?
Suddenly, as though waking from a trance, the man stepped backward awkwardly, completely unaware of the woman walking behind him holding a cup of coffee.
The coffee flew into the air before splattering across the floor and all over much of his shirt.
âGood lord,â I murmured as I watched the disaster unfold within seconds.
The man froze, as if he couldnât comprehend what had happened. I even thought I saw his lips move, though no sound came out.
I stood up with a speed I barely recognized in myself and grabbed the woman by the shoulders to stop her from charging at the stranger. I gave her a smile polished by years of practice, feeling strength return to me, as though strings had appeared on each of my limbs and some puppeteer was guiding every movement with precision.
The manâs eyesâan electric, deep blueâlocked onto mine with an intensity that stole my breath.
A gaze filled with silent, almost desperate recognition.
For a moment, I felt as though I could lose myself in those eyes, that there was something dangerous enough there to make me forget why i had stood up from my seat in the first place.
Pushing my curiosity aside, I adopted a worried expression and turned back toward the woman.
âOh, sweetheart... your shirt!â I exclaimed with feigned urgency, quickly positioning myself between her and the exit.
âDamn it, this cannot be happening,â the woman protested, her face burning with indignation.
She tried to peer over my shoulder, but I moved with her, accidentally blocking her path while clumsily offering her a few napkins.
âHey! Get back here, you damnâ!â she shouted, huffing in complete frustration.
At that exact moment, from the corner of my eye, I saw the manâs shadow cross the doorway and disappear.
I started doubting my own actions.
Did i really let him go just because of a feeling?
âYou find idiots like that everywhere,â I assured her, trying to downplay it. âI should have something in my car for that stain.â
The woman let out another frustrated huff, but the tension in her shoulders eased at my insistence. That was when Violet materialized beside us, setting her tray down on a nearby table to help the woman while another employee approached with a mop to clean the spilled coffee.
I could only hope my instincts hadnât betrayed me.
I didnât need to look around to know the man had vanished. Something deep inside me told me that even if I had gone after him, I wouldnât have caught him. It was as though the street itself had swallowed him whole.
I had given him an opportunity, and he had taken it.
The metallic sound of the trunk echoed through the nearly empty street. Between the mess of clothes, folders, and remnants of my nomadic life because of work, I found the emergency kit I always carried with me.
âGod, iâm going to have to organize all of this,â I muttered to myself, instantly irritated. If there was one thing I hated, it was how quickly everything could fall into disorder.
Disorder.
Chaos and more chaos.
A pair of eyes like sea glass.
I shook my head, but it wasnât enough to erase the image of those blue eyes. His gaze had scanned me with such intense familiarity, as though he knew me from another lifeâor worse, from a part of my life I tried to keep locked away.
I know you.
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a stab of anxiety as my fingers tightened against the metal edge of the trunk.
I didnât want to listen to what my intuition seemed to be roaring at me. I couldnât keep searching for him in every stranger.
Jake wouldnât risk himself like that. Why would he?
I had to apologize to Eric for not finishing the macchiato he had bought me, and I even offered to pay him back, though he refused with a sad smile that made me feel even worse.
The area where I was staying was quiet and somewhat far from the town center. Hardly anyone lingered around here for long.
I headed toward the entrance with my eyes fixed on the ground, searching for the right key, but something made me stop dead in my tracks.
Everything looked normal in front of me. No movement, no sound, nothing suggesting danger.
And yet, I felt that uncomfortable weight pressing down on me.
The certainty that I wasnât alone there.
âI donât like being watched, you know?â I dared to say into the empty air, uncertain but still forcing firmness into my voice.
For a moment, nothing happened, which made me wonder whether exhaustion was making me imagine thingsâor whether madness had finally started settling inside me.
I had grown up in an environment where I always had to look too closely, observe every detail, interpret faces and silences. So if that instinct was beginning to fail me, then I was lost.
Then I saw him step forward.
The same man from the restaurant.
The hood no longer concealed his face, allowing me to see him completely. His hair was the deepest black I had ever seen; not even under the faint light could I detect a trace of brown. A few strands fell over part of his forehead, though they also seemed to bother his eyes a little.
He didnât have the polished appearance of someone trying to draw attention, but his sharp features, marked by exhaustion, carried a unique kind of attractiveness capable of stirring something in anyone.
âDo you enjoy spying on people?â I asked, arching a brow.
I crossed my arms, putting distance between us. I should have been uneasy finding him there, so close to my building and only a few steps away from me, but i wasnât.
He didnât scare me.
âItâs a bad habit,â he replied with a strangely comforting calmness. âIâve been told that before.â
Hearing his voice sent warmth through me, like a familiar melody suddenly returning, recognizable from the very first note. I had never heard this man speak before, just as I wouldnât have recognized him by sight alone.
âOh really? Havenât you thought about fixing it?â
He tilted his head slightly, as if the question amused him.
âI tried once, but I discovered there are some people who are impossible to ignoreâ He dared to take a step toward me. Slow and subtle. âI pay attention to what intrigues me.â
His eyes lingered on me for far too long. Not in an invasive way, but with a silent intensity that made me forget every worry I had been carrying with me.
âI hate unnecessary scenesâ I replied, looking away, trying to focus on anything other than him, even if only for a few seconds.
âI know thatâs not why.â
My fingers tightened around my keys. I had the cowardly urge to run away from there, from that conversation, but i forced myself to stay where I was. My heart was racing, not out of fear, but because of an absurd suspicion that was beginning to take shape in my mind.
âYou should be more careful where you walkâ I pointed out, catching him off guard. He blinked a couple of times, confused. âIf youâre going to keep crossing paths with me, you should work on your balance. Youâre a walking accident.â
He let out a short breath, almost a laugh.
âYou can call me many things...â His voice was low and rough. âCareless isnât one of them."
Something inside me struggled to break free, forcing its way through the hardness around my heart. That feeling again, the same one that had hit me in the parking lot.
Two days ago in the park.
And half an hour earlier at the restaurant.
âThatâs not what youâve been implyingâ I murmured, feeling myself soften around him.
A shadow of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips. Small. Almost nonexistent. But enough to transform his tired face for a second.
I couldnât handle this. Not when he unraveled me so easily.
âWell, if thatâs all, i should go⊠Good night.â I rushed the words out, and before he could stop me, I headed toward the entrance.
I turned around before he could respond and climbed the first steps of the building, trying to get away from him and from all the doubts eating me alive inside.
âMCâ His voice came out almost like a plea.
I froze on the last step, the master key clenched tightly in my fist. Hearing my name fall from his lips was all the proof I needed. A complete stranger would never say my name like that, much less stand still just from seeing me.
It was impossible for a stranger to cross my path three times in less than a week.
My lips pressed together, holding back the knot of emotions beginning to form in my throat.
I slowly turned my head, looking at him from the top of the stairs. I found him with one foot already on the first step, as if he had been ready to come after me.
âYou said you wouldnât disappearâ I shot back, my voice trembling but firm.
My words seemed to trigger something inside him, because just the mention of that promise appeared to break the last barrier keeping him away from me.
He climbed another step slowly, but without a trace of the doubt consuming me. His eyes stayed fixed on mine as he moved closer with a silent determination that made me take a tiny step back.
âAnd I havenâtâ he said, and his voice, now that he was so close, sounded even lower, heavier. âI promised you i wouldnât, MC.â
My heart threatened to burst out of my chest. For a moment, I almost thought he might hear it because of how little space separated us, though Jake had already noticed the effect he had on me.
Neither of us moved. My eyes traveled over his face, lingering on the curve of his lips before meeting his gaze again. He seemed to notice that tiny glance away, because his breathing grew heavier, caught in the narrow space between us.
He lifted one hand, giving me time to pull away if i wanted to, but I knew perfectly well that i wouldnâtânot when his touch was what I had longed for most. His warm fingers brushed along my jawline with extreme care, as if he were afraid I might slip away.
Once he realized i wasnât going to move away, his hand cupped my cheek, and as if drawn by something magnetic, I leaned into his touch, searching for his warmth.
âYouâre tremblingâ he murmured. It was an unbearably tender observation. His thumb slowly traced the edge of my cheekbone, tilting my face slightly upward.
âItâs the coldâ I lied softly, though we both knew it had nothing to do with that.
He didnât answer with words. He leaned in closer, closing the last few inches between us with a slowness that forced me to close my eyes, anticipating the impact.
Our lips met gently, almost cautiously, as if neither of us wanted to break the moment too soon. It was a soft, exploratory touch⊠a question suspended between us.
I stayed there a second longer than necessary, feeling the warmth, the faint tremor that i couldnât tell was his or mine.
And then my hands gripped him tightly, my fingers tangling in the fabric of his jacket, trying to pull him as close as possible.
The kiss became intense, hungry, as if he were trying to reclaim every second of the months of silence in a single touch.
Each time our tongues brushed, the outside worldâthe FBI, the disappearances, the suspicionsâfaded away to ashes. Only the rustle of his jacket against my clothes, the sound of our ragged breaths, and the way he sought my mouth, like someone finding water in the desert, existed.
"I found you..." he whispered against my lips, his voice thick with an almost painful relief that finally broke down my last defenses.
"Yes, you did" I nodded between kisses, smiling and seeking his lips again.
I no longer knew when the cold outside had ceased to exist. The next sound I registered was the metallic click of the key turning in the lock and the dull thud of the front door closing behind us.
I gasped against his mouth when his fingers tangled in my hair, tugging with a possessive gentleness that made me arch toward him.
âDonât goâ I managed to whisper between kisses, my voice trembling and my heart pounding against my ribs. âDonât disappear again.â
âI wonât leaveâ he promised, and the weight of those words made me tremble more than the winter cold ever could.
I slipped my hands beneath his coat, searching for the warmth of his body through his shirt, then slid them up along his sides to wrap around his back, wanting to hold him so tightly it would be impossible for him to vanish again.
But the moment my fingers pressed against the left side of his back, Jake tensed completely.
A strangled gasp escaped him, a sharp groan muffled against my lips as the kiss abruptly broke apart. He went still, his forehead resting against my shoulder, his breathing ragged and uneven from something that wasnât passion.
âJake?â Panic snapped me back to reality in an instant. I pulled my hands away as if burned. âWhatâs wrong?â
Suddenly, Richyâs words came rushing back to me.
âThe fire was too close to us when he found me.â
Driven by fear, I tried to lift his shirt to confirm my suspicions. Guilt twisted in my chest for forgetting what Richy had told me, but before I could move the fabric aside, Jake caught my wrists midair with a quick yet gentle motion.
He looked at me silently, his blue eyes fixed on mine, trying to calm me without words, but that only made my alarm grow stronger. I held his gaze with clear frustration, challenging him silently, demanding with my eyes that he let me see.
He read the anger on my face, and the stiffness in his grip softened, his thumbs brushing tenderly over my skin.
âNot hereâŠâ he murmured, his voice so low and rough it sent shivers down my spine. âCan we go upstairs?â
As much as I wanted to argue, i knew he was right. We were still on the ground floor, nowhere near my apartment. If I wanted to see how serious his injuries were and help him, we needed to go upstairs first.
He noticed the moment I silently gave in to his request, and his hands released my wrists before his fingers intertwined with mine, ready for me to lead him.
As we climbed toward the seventh floor, I studied his exhausted profile, trying to process the fact that the distance between us had finally been reduced to zero.
When we stepped into my apartment, the silence welcomed us like a balm. Jake had finally come back to me, carrying the marks of a dangerous escape that could have cost him his life. Seeing him there, beneath my roof, I understood that the waiting was over. It was my turn to keep him safe, and I would do whatever was necessary to care for him just as he had cared for me.
If you made it to the end, i appreciate your patience and hope i've somehow comforted your heart after the end of episode 3 đ„čâ€ïž
I'm going through a rough patch, so i did my best to finish this little story. It's really hard to concentrate when you're sad or have too many problems to focus on just one thing. So i really appreciate you taking the time to read this.
Duskwood really became a kind of safe haven for me all these years. I remember seeing the game for the first time around 2019, but I didn't fully experience it until 2022, and i haven't let it go since.
I love the work Everbyte has done and continues to do; the dedication and effort they put into creating these two games is truly impressive. They are absolutely geniuses.
Damn, I'm watching as almost everyone else has finished episode 3 of Moonvale and i've only managed to complete part of it, while i'm dying to play the rest.
