Fisilti - Becca Fitzpatrick -

The world tilted. The rain stopped mid-air. And for the first time since I woke up empty, I remembered what falling felt like.

Then I saw him. Leaning against a graveyard oak, black jeans soaked through, a crooked smile that didn't reach his haunted eyes. The rain parted around him, as if even the sky knew to kneel. Fisilti - Becca Fitzpatrick

"Who are you?"

His name was a hole in my chest.

But at night, the fisilti came. Whispers in the dark. A voice like cold fire, saying my name like a prayer and a warning all at once. Patch. The world tilted

"Do I know you?" I asked, my voice a stranger's. black jeans soaked through